I didn't get anything for Christmas, which doesn't really bother me. What did bother me:
I suppose this is what comes of not being clear. I had said there couldn't be two stars on the tree, so The American opted to dress me as an angel instead. Allow me to point out I wore the halo and wings well past the tree's decorations being taken down. In fact, she didn't remove them until yesterday, when we went to the salon . . .
|I don't trust these women behind me, not least because they have no bodies.|
Afterward, we went down to Connecticut. Turns out I was being dragged to a concert.
|Not sure why everything looks so pink . . .|
Turns out The American is rather fond of this fellow:
|Rob Thomas at Mohegan Sun Arena, 30 December 2011|
Fine for him, but my ears almost couldn't take the man on our right who evidently believed he was part of the band and sang along to every song. At ridiculously high levels.
After that, we wallowed in Americanism. By which I mean sodas, burgers, milkshakes.
Then finally returned to our hotel.
|Yes, I am wearing her necklace. No, I don't know why.|
Which meant in the morning we were required to put some more food in ourselves. Ate at Octagon, which had a very friendly staff and good food.
I would have stayed longer, but they insisted it was time to go.
Home now with John, which is as it should be.
That's the proper way to start a new year.
With gratitude for the hospitality of Secrets Salon; Mohegan Sun Resort & Casino; and Marriott Mystic Hotel & Spa and their restaurant Octagon.