I have learned an important lesson today. Traveling with a sore throat that desperately wants to grow up to be an ear infection is just about the least fun way to fly. I've been on the ground for almost seven hours, and my right ear is still screeching and squeaking in the worst way. But I am happy to ignore the annoyance in my ear and throat, and to pretend that I'm not that soft-in-the-middle-aged woman who has trouble adjusting to altitude and can't keep up with the fast-walking hill climbers here. I am in my chosen home again, and I love it. It was a close thing, but we managed to get our luggage, acquire a rental car, and make it to Boulder in time to collect our daughters and find our seats at the events center before the introduction of the starting lineup of basketball players. My number one goal was met. Unfortunately, with the top player on the team freshly injured (as of Sunday), the kids couldn't pull out a win to make the night perfect. Can't have everything.
I've had a few "only in Colorado" moments already. We hadn't made it off the concourse at DIA before we passed a youngish man wearing a smart top, socks and dress shoes, and American flag boxers. We managed not to stare, but as soon as he was out of earshot, I said, "That looked like a dare." My man said he did sort of resemble Borat. And upon entering the events center, I was wanded (as in metal detector) by a classic Boulder resident, a kid who looked to be college age, who wore his dark blond hair in an elaborate coiffure of dreadlocks.
I am exhausted from travel, sports disappointment, a late dinner with the kids, and a cocktail made with bourbon and tinkerbell juice (I'd say pomegranate squeezings and about 30 teaspoons of sugar). I will have to save my witty observations for tomorrow, when I have a chance to remember what they actually are.
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