yiassou, babies!

It was a fabulous trip; a wonderful journey, an experience of a lifetime.

And as with those oft-dreaded dinner parties of yore; the ones after which guests payed for their feast by viewing their hosts' interminably narrated vacation film (god, I miss those parties. Hey ~ it's me in front of the Temple of Athena! Now, from over this side!) I fully intend to bore everyone to tears with tales of it before long. It's what I do.

We got in late Tuesday night following a grueling 17 hour flight with the good people of Delta Airlines (motto: happily breaking kneecaps since 1975!) and spent yesterday in some sort of peanut-induced coma. Rather than unpacking, and before uploading my 537 pictures of the Parthenon taken from 87 different angles and in varying lights (At sunset! At dawn! At 5 minutes after dawn! In widescreen! Slightly bigger than widescreen! A movie!) I hit the net to make a quick survey of my fave blogs to ensure that everyone was well and whole and not under indictment or fleeing the country or anything. Most of them were not, I'm surprised and perhaps even a little disappointed to say.

Honestly people, I expect more from you. Don't make me go back to Europe for my entertainments. Or do.

Anyway, after spending 3 weeks mercifully campaign-free ~ CNN was available at only a few of the hotels in which we stayed, and American newspapers a hit-and- miss affair ~ I was leery of once again entering the fray. When last we saw our heroine, Sarah I-can't-name-a-newspaper-because-I-read-all-of-them Palin, the right-wing press was swooning over Caribou Barbie and her obvious feminist credentials (look~ she's a girl!) and I wondered how well that image had played out with the American people.

Seems I needn't have worried. Way to go, my fellow Americans! And when I found this at Girly Shoes, my best source for such pithy links and always the best damn ANTM and Project Runway recaps ever, I laughed so hard I was almost glad to be home. Almost.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to pick up 3 weeks worth of junk mail, which means I have to go rent a truck. In the meantime, if you haven't seen it, enjoy.

For my part, if this woman gets in you can find me and the Turk nursing our wounds with a bottle of ouzo, a bowl of olives and a pack of Sante's on the beautiful isle of Crete.

Sante'.