Thank god, thank god, thank god.
And ZipCar. And the fine man at HiFi Pizza. And Placebo. And of course Alceste, who is still perky and coherent after his own harrowing experience and has kindly not commented on what a husk I am, after one of the the more astonishing air travel clusterfucks I have survived--and I've been through a few. At least I was having a Perfect Hair Day.
Now I am going to pass out. As Thomas Dolby said in "The Keys to Her Ferrari", little rivers of anticipation are running down my inseam. No, wait, that's something else.