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I had forgotten how amazingly, astonishingly ugly New Jersey is. Also, it all smells bad. I remember now having a similar revelation about "That explains why MCR is the way they are!" last year.
So the other shoe dropped, about a thousand times, but at least it was only a slipper.
First! First flight was full. And I had a middle seat. And I think I slept about an hour. I don't know, I occasionally woke myself up drooling because I couldn't lean back in the seat. I'z tired.
Second! Second flight was not full. Second plane, however, was defective. Get off plane, haul ass across fucking Detroit airport, which may be larger than some zip codes, reboard. Next to the one person I had picked out as being Really Quite A Twat, coincidentally. I'll save the commentary about our silent cool-off for later, but I was thinking about twitting about her, and I'm very sure that she twitted about me. Also: mismatched Betseyville carryon says something about a person, but I feel sure that it's not a good thing. And: we found out that the "problem" with the other plane "might have led to a depressurisation issue." Well, I'm glad we swapped it out, but I wish we could have swapped it for one in the same time zone.
Third! (Note that I am eliding out everything that went well, like my baggage coming out all safe and sound and stepping out of the terminal RIGHT IN FRONT of the van I needed to be in, and all that.) I booked a Chevy Aveo. I am driving a Dodge Calibre. It's a bit like steering a main battle tank.
Fourth! So, what did I do with my battle tank? I found the ghetto! Awesome. I also found out that no one in Philly can fucking park. Like, seriously, if I hadn't been looking for enemies in another tank to ram, or possibly invading Czechoslovakia, I would have taken a fucking picture. It is...special. Also, I got propositioned by a prostitute. At 10:45 am. I feel that this should obey some sort of business hours that don't include me.
Fifth! Snow! Fun!
Sixth! As mentioned above, all of New Jersey is more than vaguely seedy, and I feel guilty for, basically, not being a leper. There is also a fly in my hotel room, and I think I'm gonna come back with a can of Raid tonight. I'd rather breathe fumes all night and suffer permanent brain damage than be touched by the fucking thing again.
Now it's time for a shower, some more coffee (you would not believe how much coffee I'm mainlining) and finding a shoe store. I think, given the state of the battle tank, I'm gonna call the Starland and try to get their parking ticket, even though it will cost more than the show. I am afraid that someone will, like, breathe on the car. Or try to steal it. Or succeed in stealing it.
I'm going to open up a rental agency: the gimmick will be that they're cars that don't stand out. Nothing red. Nothing that pricey. Nothing this pristine. Nothing that just obviously shouts "Hi I'm a rental, make some poor bastard's life hell by trying out your crowbar on me!"
I hope Betseyville was reading over my shoulder on the plane, though, because I was working on the social structure of the undead in Zombies Rampaging Slowly, and it is awesome.
And the jughandle turns here make a surprising amount of sense. I think they're fairly awesome, actually.
So the other shoe dropped, about a thousand times, but at least it was only a slipper.
First! First flight was full. And I had a middle seat. And I think I slept about an hour. I don't know, I occasionally woke myself up drooling because I couldn't lean back in the seat. I'z tired.
Second! Second flight was not full. Second plane, however, was defective. Get off plane, haul ass across fucking Detroit airport, which may be larger than some zip codes, reboard. Next to the one person I had picked out as being Really Quite A Twat, coincidentally. I'll save the commentary about our silent cool-off for later, but I was thinking about twitting about her, and I'm very sure that she twitted about me. Also: mismatched Betseyville carryon says something about a person, but I feel sure that it's not a good thing. And: we found out that the "problem" with the other plane "might have led to a depressurisation issue." Well, I'm glad we swapped it out, but I wish we could have swapped it for one in the same time zone.
Third! (Note that I am eliding out everything that went well, like my baggage coming out all safe and sound and stepping out of the terminal RIGHT IN FRONT of the van I needed to be in, and all that.) I booked a Chevy Aveo. I am driving a Dodge Calibre. It's a bit like steering a main battle tank.
Fourth! So, what did I do with my battle tank? I found the ghetto! Awesome. I also found out that no one in Philly can fucking park. Like, seriously, if I hadn't been looking for enemies in another tank to ram, or possibly invading Czechoslovakia, I would have taken a fucking picture. It is...special. Also, I got propositioned by a prostitute. At 10:45 am. I feel that this should obey some sort of business hours that don't include me.
Fifth! Snow! Fun!
Sixth! As mentioned above, all of New Jersey is more than vaguely seedy, and I feel guilty for, basically, not being a leper. There is also a fly in my hotel room, and I think I'm gonna come back with a can of Raid tonight. I'd rather breathe fumes all night and suffer permanent brain damage than be touched by the fucking thing again.
Now it's time for a shower, some more coffee (you would not believe how much coffee I'm mainlining) and finding a shoe store. I think, given the state of the battle tank, I'm gonna call the Starland and try to get their parking ticket, even though it will cost more than the show. I am afraid that someone will, like, breathe on the car. Or try to steal it. Or succeed in stealing it.
I'm going to open up a rental agency: the gimmick will be that they're cars that don't stand out. Nothing red. Nothing that pricey. Nothing this pristine. Nothing that just obviously shouts "Hi I'm a rental, make some poor bastard's life hell by trying out your crowbar on me!"
I hope Betseyville was reading over my shoulder on the plane, though, because I was working on the social structure of the undead in Zombies Rampaging Slowly, and it is awesome.
And the jughandle turns here make a surprising amount of sense. I think they're fairly awesome, actually.
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From:
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From:
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And taunting me with undead social structure no less. Well, I got the Regency book today and am working on the Living. So there.
So, which musician will you be locking in the trunk of the rental car?
From:
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In my dreams.Still working on undead social structure, but hopefully I'll be in a position to send what I've got to you tomorrow.