Let's start at the beginning

I just got back from my 6th job interview (ye gods- when will it end???), and am ready to tell about our troubled, but fun vacation.

We left with high hopes last Thursday. We had a 2 hour layover in Chicago, and expected to be in Montreal by 11:00 PM or so. Well. I saw Morgan Freeman in the Seattle airport- that was nice. And I didn't make a starfucker ass of myself, I left him alone. The Seattle moving walkway told Spouse that "matter can be neither seated nor destroyed" - cryptic enough, but fine.

On our flight to Chicago there was a nasty florid little man who made an ass of himself when he wanted more than one canned beverege. We shunned him. I called him Princess pouty pants.

Then it got interesting. In Chicago, we found that our connecting flight to Montreal was delayed. By 4 hours. So our layover was 6 hours in duration- and we were shuttled off to the LAND THAT TIME FORGOT in the airport basement. We waited, and watched people, and I read almost 200 pages of Proust. When we finally got in the air, all was well.

We arrived in Montreal around 2:00 AM. Our friends were already asleep in the dorm of McGill University- where we were staying. It was really hot and muggy, and our cab driver ripped us off by charging too much to take us to the dorm. The fucker.

Once there, we made friends with the drunken Canadians at the door, and finally got to our room. It was on the 7th floor, aka "The Penthouse", and had one twin bed. And all along I thought that I would never have another dorm room sleepover! It was fine, though, as practice was the next day, and we would get to see the cars, track and drivers.

At 3:00 AM we finally slept. To awaken again at 8:00.