Stressed-out gypsy

My adventure with More Fun was not as carefree as I would have liked it to have been. If I weren't so loathe to admit it, I would say that the sucky situation of last week brought on by the putrid behavior of it (leaving him/her genderless) who shall now be called the Nemesis of Medusa was a bit too much to be overcome during my short trip. More Fun did his best to make me feel better, including affectionately demanding many times that I marry him, tell the Nemesis to fuck right off, and move to Rock-n-Roll Circus Land.

I think more than anything I am jealous of my gypsy friends. I was too aware that I had to come back to this. How dare NoM fuck with my gypsy time and my summer adventures, as few and far between as they are! I don't even feel like doing my work--work that I was excited about and work that makes the gypsy time all the more fun--since NoM pissed all over my career.

At least it has come to a showdown. I have to try to remember that and to move ahead, even though I am uncertain of what's ahead. Isn't that the gypsy way, after all? Day after tomorrow I leave for the Deep Red for a long visit with my family. I hope that change of scenery does a bit more to dispel the NoM nastiness in my head.

The Chalupa will be joining me on my travels! We are very excited but a little nervous about the long plane ride(s). Any advice on how to handle a wily Chalupa in a airplane cabin? Chalupas on a plane! Chalupas on a plane!

OK. . .I am going to end this disjointed and kind of nutty and kind of ranty and kind of maudlin post and go to the gym or drink some wine or both (but not at the same time obviously). The Nemesis just fucking sucks so fucking much, for fuck's sake! (Ahh . . .cursing does help, it really does.)