Home, Finally.

I just got back from a weekend wedding, and I spent a loooong time in the car getting there and back.

We bought a new navigation system, and it gave us the shortest distance to the wedding, through the Bronx. It would have been the fastest if there wasn't Memorial Day traffic; our supposed-to-be-6 hour drive turned into nearly eleven.

We took a different route back home, and at one point, we stopped at a greasy diner in the middle of nowhere. The waitresses were hanging out at the counter comparing their freakishly long, fake, multi-colored nails with a level of seriousness that I felt the topic shouldn't warrant. ("All hand done!" said one of them, with her bleached hair teased to heaven. She wiggling her rainbow daggers. "Ooooo!" said the others, showing off their smokers wrinkles.) I'm pretty sure there's not a lot to do out there except get tacky beauty treatments, look at cows, and drive motorcycles around.