We're well into Day 4 of 11 at the adequate Brighton Inn, and I will say this about this particular hotel: I've never before stayed at a place that so flaunts its hotel adequacy. Yes, I believe that makes sense.
Our apartment sits empty a couple miles away, and will remain empty until the movers bring our furniture and stuff from Houston on the 19th. (Thus the reason for the projected 11-day Brighton Inn stint.) Our apartment, by the way, smells strongly of pickles. And if that particular smell doesn't go away we will either do something to fix it or maybe grow to love it?
Anyway, the Relocation folks are paying commercial movers to get our stuff up to Colorado, which I realize could easily be deduced from the previous paragraph. So all we had to transport was ourselves, Jack, and our two cars (we are very much in debt to
Jenna for being an extra driver and providing Jack assistance). The 2-day drive meant the iPod saw quite a bit of action, which means I can do another round of the random lyrics running tally:
- That's all he got left 'cause the alligator bit it.
- And all the time she laughs at those who shout her name and steal her clothes.
- And sometimes it seems that all I have to do is worry.
- You tell any one who'll listen that you feel ignored.
- In the garden I was playing the tart.
- Uncry these tears I cried so many nights. (How'd this get on there?)
- I fell for you like a child.
- Want to be enlightened like I want to be told the end.
- You've got to see the show, it's a dynamo.
- We bluff our souls on canteen patios.
Aside A)
I think that every hotel television should have one of these sitting next to it.
Aside B)
And I don't care what you say,
this is great news.
