We're at the airport, and yes, the adventures have already begun, even with things as small as us eating lunch at Wolfgang Puck, adding table after table to our original table as more and more people keep joining us.
"Moral of the story, let your kids eat dirt and they'll be fine," says Grace, as we discuss Americans and their germophobia.
Our flight is at two-ish, and we'll land at Chicago O'Hare, where we'll get on the 9-hour flight to Rome.
I'm excited about the flight, really really. I'm one of those people who actually likes airplane food, and I use the awesome TV thingy on the back of the airplane seats to catch up on my embarrassingly low list of movies I've seen.
I've finished my butternut squash soup, and probably ought to be social at the table. Time to join in on the intelligent, philosophical, and mind-blowing conversations that are typical of this group of friends. Now we'll be having intelligent, philosophical, mind-blowing conversations -- in Rome and London.
Yes.
