Gone Fishing

It's been a week since I last wrote "to you," meaning that absolutely nothing has developed in my life, save for an amazing amount of skill or knowledge or whatever you might want to call what it is I develop on the bass guitar. Good news, I guess. Also, it's 4:30 am as I write this, which of course means I'm at BWI waiting for my flight to Atlanta where I will undoubtedly wait for six and a half eternities for my flight to San Jose.

As oft is my wont, I planned on complaining at great length about my trip through the TSA's desolate valley of hellish terrors, but I just don't have the energy to do it correctly right now. That said, I do want to explain that this time, not only was I required to optionally take my shoes off, I also had to place everything I own directly on the belt AND have my boarding pass out and in my hand so the flunky at the scanner could inspect it and make sure (for the second time in a set of downs) I was headed in the right direction. I won't be able to post this until I get to Atlanta, which is unfortunate, but ... yeah I don't remember what I was saying there.



nah nah nah nah nah nah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha STOP

[add:] Well, wireless internet at my gate in Atlanta doesn't work. Whatever. The flight here was actually somewhat enjoyable, if slow. According to our captain, we were fighting headwinds of up to 230 miles an hour. Zing! Initially, I was seated next to the most evil ass who ever lived. The man was old, said nothing, and was traveling with someone seated directly in front of him. The woman was chatting it up with a younger guy who was quite amicable, and he actually ended up trading seats with the first dude, who asked for access to his seat by simply pointing in my direction and grunting. I was offered a movie (Half Baked, and I had to decline because I needed to try to sleep), I was offered conversation on the way down, and for once in my life, I was seated next to someone who was polite, free from foul odor, and most importantly, laid back about the whole flying thing. So good times, I guess, I hope he made his connecting flight okay... the obscene headwind left him with a whopping 10 minutes to deplane and catch his next flight. I suspect they probably rebooked him, but he deserved to make it so I hope for the best. Meanwhile, I hope the three frat kids who were drooling over the backs of three girls heads about five rows up missed that same flight. Hopefully.