Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

NOTE: I’m visiting my sister the teacher, and remembered this post I wrote several years back.

“Good news. You get to teach my students about getting a job,” said my sister.

She had just picked me up at LAX after a flight from England on which I was trapped next to an extremely enthusiastic sleep-farter. As far as I could tell, the flight had entered another dimension where my perceived flight time expanded to about 3 ½ days of inhaling my seatmate’s contributions to global warming, giving me time to watch every movie including those involving animated rodents. The combination of jet lag, Disney show tunes, and oxygen deprivation (they wouldn’t let me use the oxygen mask, so I had to spend the flight with a TicTac up each nostril) is the only explanation for why I didn’t get back on that plane immediately. That, and I’m scared of my sister. I…