Every time I land at the Des Moines International Airport after a trip, I think to myself, “Why do people live here?”.  On Monday, this thought was exacerbated by the bajillionth blizzard of the season and the accompanying crosswinds daring to blow the plane back to where it came from.  I wouldn’t have minded.

Apparently, Los Angeles was “chilly”, but I spent the weekend basking in the relative warmth.  Walking?  No problem.  Open sunroof?  Yes, please.  Lunch seating in the direct sunlight?  All me.  December snows are pretty.  Now, Des Moines is dirty, gray, and depressing.  Then again, I’m pretty sure I said that exact same thing about Lithuania.  I lose interest in locations quickly.  I should probably work on that…

Anyway…

I lucked out and landed in California after one bout of rain and before another.  My sister and I spent the weekend eating awesome food, shopping, talking, and enjoying a drink here and there.  I’m just glad that I discovered relatively inexpensive, nonstop flights.  Hopefully she’s not sick of me yet, or I’m going to have to resort to camping out by her apartment.  My brother has plenty of camping gear after a successful mountaineering adventure in Chile (more on South America later), but that whole scenario would probably just be creepy.  Or, I’ll go find my favorite homeless person of the trip: a young-ish guy holding a sign stating, “My wife had a better lawyer…”