I like simple pleasures, like butter in my ass, lollipops in my mouth. That's just me. That's just something that I enjoy.

Nearly as soon as I posted the last post, I got a phone call from my MOH's Ex, who was at the airport and had gotten the message that MOH had lost her wallet on the train in Chicago. I started to go pick him up, but then another phone call came along: they were letting her fly anyway. Now don't get me wrong, I am thrilled to pieces they let her on the plane. But damn. Could my country be any more goddamn ridiculous? Take off your shoes, your belt, give me that toothpaste, take off your two year old's shoes (which my sister had to do), but hey, don't have an ID? Eh, we'll let it slide. That's Chicago for you, everyone, let's go.

That was the easy part. Then came the car rental establishment, who was far less eager to help anyone without proper ID. And she realized (AFTER she'd been given the go-ahead on the flight) that she did have a xerox copy of her passport on her (from travelling abroad numerous times). This doesn't mean dick to anyone but the US Consulate, by the way. Especially the savory folk at the DMV, where we had to go to try to get a temp issued. Do not attempt to get a temp unless you have THREE original documents clarifying who you are, which is more than a little tricky when you are travelling without your wallet. But it's good enough for the US Consulate. DMV, no fucking way.

On the hugely plus side, someone turned in her wallet, but turned it into her bank rather than the train station. The bank was far from helpful, refusing to let her pay to have it FedEx-ed overnight or to even FedEx JUST the driver's license. This involved me calling them back and getting it sent (I didn't even have to be rude, I just went on about how shit DFW was and they weren't going to be as open-minded as Chicago come airport time). However, the bank lady, I suppose, was a little suspicious having just spoken with Emily not long before. Long story short, we totally got busted and MOH got quite a little talking-to from the bank lady. But they're sending the wallet. Again, this is what irritates the fuck out of me. Why didn't she send it on the first phone call? How fucking hard must it be to travel without ID? Why not help your customer out? They had no problem with knowing it was her--that wasn't their issue; they just "couldn't be liable." But come the second phone call, they "make an exception." So it's not that you CAN'T help me, it's that you WON'T. I hate you all, you irritating morons from hell.

So this will be good to get her wallet as Kiwi Derek rented the car in the end and had to cart us around all day. I enjoyed most immensely not driving.

Veloute and Triana have been busy in the kitchen making blood-red cake. I have never seen so much butter and chocolate set aside for one purpose. I cannot wait to suck down massive amounts of buttercream.

And this morning, MOH and I are off to get our facials, divineness that it is. Better than yesterday's event of shooting off guns! I myself did not partake, as they tuned out to only rent shotguns, which I have no desire whatsoever to fuck with. Both MOH and Ex did a good job with it; MOH only shot off a few but scored each time (skeet shooting). Ex is quite the academic type and was naturally a little more awkward with it (but they should have seen ME with that thing...which is another reason I did not make a go at it); Kiwi D was quite the pro with it and did most of the shooting.

And then it was off to Denton where my mother had really gone out of her way to make plenty of food, all of which was incredibly tasty as always. Everyone loved it and everyone got to see everyone else and have a really good time. I got to see Fiona and Sophia mucking about briefly before they departed for the hotel, and I got to spend plenty of time with Joe and Jean, who are always so much fun to see. I even got some great wedding gifts opened, especially from my sister Alex who dropped a shocking jaw-dropping load at Lush (watch me not link, ask me if I care!). It is GORGEOUS. It is HUGE. I want to marry it as well tomorrow. I already tried Butterball, which smells a little like Christmas. The bubbles were OBSCENE in the Jet Black Jet Tub. OBSCENE, I tell you.

So let's see how today goes...hopefully the bubbles of Lush will continue to be the only thing obscene about my weekend...aside from me, that is.