Polar Bear on the Loose

Chronicles of a polar bear's life in society.

Email: mercuryranch AT yahoo.com

Friday, May 09, 2003

Waiting for the Spurs game to come on. I'm still trying to pack my suitcases. Of course, that isn't really too hard--it isn't as if I need to take any clothes or anything. I do need a carry-on with some books and things--She assures me toothbrushes are mandatory; She was muttering something about polar morning breath. She decided She didn't trust me here by myself, so I have to go to Europe tomorrow. I can't figure Her out. First She doesn't want me out and about and scaring the general public, then She insists upon taking me on a commercial airliner. What gives? No only am I going to be uncomfortable as all get out crammed into a cattlecar seat, but I get claustrophobic. Is this really a bright idea to drag me along?

What is all boils down to is, I'll be off the air for a bit.


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