Jetlag is when...

...you intend to get up at six, which would be three in the morning your time, but oversleep and get up at 8:30, which is not nearly as early as you wished but still feels like 5:30. *sigh* sometimes these things happen.

My first (also, second-to-last) day in Meadville went well - I saw people I liked (mostly my mother and sister, and that was a blast) and had some quite enjoyable chill time. I recovered from the delays and other flight debacles (the multiple personalities I referred to in the one post title option yesterday was the one that I assumed when I was in travel mode: i.e. wearing the heaviest clothes that I had like my huge leather boots and (faux)-leather jacket, and schlepping my guitar around. This, you see, gives me the air of a country singer, particularly with my long, blonde hair and stranded-ness in Phoenix. I didn't put on any accents this time (I don't know if you've been reading this long enough to recall the time I was so bored at SFO that I convinced a kind, young Berkeley student with my fake German accent that I was foreign enough for him to speak slowly to me for about a half hour and suffer through my accented responses and then wish me 'Auf Wiedersehen' when I went to board my flight to Frankfurt...), but I was stopped by a cowboy of sorts to talk about music for a while. Some people just seem stuck back in time.).

And today, I have a list - not as long as my arm. With my handwriting, it's as long as the palm of my hand, and it contains all the things I need to do today. So, I'm going to do that. In the meantime, I got some pictures from my friend of all of those dogs we have been hanging out with lately - it was such a great part of my summer, I wanted to give them one last hurrah here:

Thanks, @lightlymydarling, for the pictures.

Alright. I'll start on the list now.