I have to say this first, because it's SO FREAKING INSANE that I'm still boggling over it. I hired a car to pick me up Thursday morning to take me to
I gingerly pick it up by my fingertips, toss it in the laundry, and hope I can wash it, remove the evil, and dry it in time to get to my waiting car at 6. Get it out of the wash and the ANTS ATE HOLES IN MY SHIRT. I mentioned brand new? Pulled the tags off the night before, laid it down?? What the hell?! Just the day before I made the house SPOTLESS, so there was nothing to bring any creature in uninvited. And I don't have an ant problem. Except for how I do! What on earth?? And I'm out a totally cute shirt that I never got to wear. Woe.
Manners: They're Free! (So there's no excuse for not having any.)
Last trip I was on, I encountered horrendous airplane etiquette. I did this time, too. PEOPLE: train your kids up right so they don't get smacked in the head.
- Yes, 4 1/2 hours is a longish flight. Yes, you may be tired. Yes, you may sleep in your seat, yes yes yes. That should NOT entail, however, you pulling down your seat-back tray, draping your legs over it, and throwing your arms out into the aisle so you can be more comfortable. When did girls stop caring about looking like boors? Is that my Southernism showing? Nonetheless, when a stewardess has to throw your arm over your body and slam the beverage cart into your knees because you won't respond when she speaks to you... you're doing it wrong.
- Rolling carts, and rolling carts ONLY go over head. Not your coat, your bag, your purse, your laptop... rolling carts. Those little things you brought? They go under the seat in front of you. When an elderly man is ready to burst into tears because he's at the front and there's nowhere left for his freaking OXYGEN TANK because some half-wit can't jam their purse in front of them, or some douchey business man just can't put his suit coat in his lap... Good lord. (The stewardesses were scrambing, trying to find out who's coat was this, who's purse, etc. while he was trying to find a place for his tank. Which... he should have been boarded first. I'm just saying.) Wait until the big stuff is put up, THEN look and see if there's room for your duty-free purse and perfume purchase. No more consideration in the world, huh? Jeez.
- DO NOT TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF ON THE PLANE. Especially if your feet smell that bad. Oh my god. (This was my seat mate, incidentally. I'm talking SOCKS off, not just the shoes.) Blergh.
Other than that, I really love airplane travel. I got a lot of reading done on my magic book (hahaha, that's what we're calling my Kindle) hopefully talked a person out of reading Twilight (probably not - she looked "the type") and had several people ask me about my Kindle, which should nab me some free downloads, if the world ran as I would like. I'm not gonna lie, though: I was scared by the number of people I saw reading SMeyers in the airport/on the plane. Nooooo! and the girl who asked if I had read them, and were they any good? And I told her the truth? And I mentioned how the second book GOES BLANK when the boy leaves Bella, because she no longer exists without a man?! You could tell she thought that was kinda-sorta romantic. And I wanted to thump her forehead.
Doooooooooooovil (not DOE-vil)
I wanna say this flat out: dovil is BY FAR my most favorite person to travel with, aside from my husband. Absolutely a riot, smart, can keep up with me drinking (hahahaha, she's the ONLY person that has ever out-drunk me, not that I'm going for a record, or anything. Anymore. Haha. Did I mention that my body is 38% liver?) is up for anything, anywhere, anytime.
Which is to say that we made out with hobos on street corners, sold our bodies, streaked through the NASDAQ before the closing bell, and robbed Japanese tourists. You know, had a good time! Okay, okay, we didn't make out with any hobos. We just went on a killing spree.
- getting her to eat foods she'd never had before (figs, homeless ladies' livers - with a fine Chianti and fava beans, buffalo wings)
- watching her try to not explode from the heat of the buffalo wings (um, they don't do spicy there, apparently. Not like WE do spicy, at least.)
- drinking many fine bottles of wine/cocktails/beer
- always finding ourselves hot French boy-adjacent and marveling at said hot French boys sexy sexy language
- laughing at how the Empire State Building should be called "The Line Ride"
- seeing that she actually laughed unprompted by me at my horror movie (the jokes translate! YAY!)
- loads and loads of intelligent and hilarious conversation. She's UTTERLY FABULOUS. Aww, I missed her. And now I miss her again.
We went to a comedy club Sat. night and saw a couple of good comedians. The opening act was pretty meh, but they got funnier as the night went on. And the audience got douchier as the night went on. What's the deal with heckling? And this is coming from someone that used to do stand-up comedy. Here's a tip: you're not funnier than the comedian. No one thinks you're funny, except your drunk buddies. You're screwing up the show. The guys on stage handled themselves well, but the audience was filled with idiots. We left afterwards and saw the main group of morons leave in a stretch Hummer. Ah. With Jersey plates. AH.
Every true New Yorker we encountered, however, was absolutely lovely. I <3 NY. When people found out I was from Texas, they asked about my family, the hurricane, what needed to be done... Awww. So sweet and thoughtful. One guy from Queens took his HAT OFF, held it over his heart, and told me he would pray for my family. (I tried to explain that I wasn't from Galveston, but he was so earnest and sweet, I just couldn't ruin it for him.)
It was also heartening to see all the pro-Obama gear all over the city. For the record, I live in THE reddest county in the state of Texas (I know, but the schools are awesome), and I've only seen ONE pro-McCain sticker. Everyone (except the evangelical family on my block) is supporting Obama. If that doesn't give you hope, I just don't know what will.
BOOKS! (and a tiny TV mention, but nothing spoilery - this journal is ANTI-SPOILERS!)
Since the plane ride was nice and long, I got a lot of reading done. I finished Cormac McCarthy's No Country For Old Men. Loved the movie (as much as you can love a bleak, violent movie, which I did) and loved the book even more. When someone writes Texans saying "Fixin to" and "kindly" in place of "about to" and "kind of," I kindly love them loads. That book read like a story from someone's Papaw (pa-paw) after he just couldn't hold something inside no more. Looking off at the prairie, not making eye contact, pulling a thorn long stuck inside him. Good hell, that's a story, and just... If you've not read it, I highly recommend it. I'll admit that I've not read any of his books before this, so I downloaded "The Road" and have started on that, too. Just as excellent, just as griping.
For the plane ride back, I needed something lighter and simpler, so I downloaded the book that the show "True Blood" is based on. It's complete crack, one of those quick reads (I read the whole thing on the plane and had time to do other stuff, if that tells you anything) and while it has some cliched aspects, and some cheesy moments, I also found it very entertaining. And I'll be completely honest, there's a scene in it (I won't spoil anyone) that got me a little choked up, truth be told. And the sex scenes didn't disappoint.
Note to Alan Ball, writer/producer of "True Blood:"
Your sex scenes leave me cold. And? There's too much. <-- not anything I thought I'd ever say. And Anna Paquin's acting is still driving me nuts. She is just not comfortable in her own skin, I've decided. The character in the book knows she's cute, knows she's got a rockin body, but doesn't dwell on it. Anna is still trying to get comfortable on camera with short-shorts, and doesn't know how to be in her body, aware, but unaware. Also, she can't do a Louisiana accent to save her life, and that's the whole POINT of these books: they are BAYOU. (I know that's just about the hardest accent to do, I know. You think they'd spend some time finding someone who could do it, look the part, and - Eh. I'm not a huge believer in Alan Ball's "genius" anyway. Sorry!)
Eh. I'll stick it out until ep 5 as I've been told is where the show takes off, but I don't have high hopes. They just can't figure out if this show should be a mystery show, a farce, multi-layered, a combo of those... I mean, there are no layers, that I can see. (Not that there were in the books, either, but... Huh. If you're taking a book to TV, you should DO SOMETHING with it. See: Jonathan Demme's adaption of Silence of the Lambs.)
Not impressed with the show. The books are mindless fun, though.
Next on my reading list, once I finish The Road, is Look me in the Eye by Augusten Burrough's brother, John Robinson.
I'm that happy-tired you get from a full weekend with someone you really really like, so I plan on being incredibly lazy today and probably eating all of the chocolate that Dovil brought me all the way from the Southern Hemisphere. I've had worse days. ;)
Since everyone seemed to post a bunch this weekend, I'm probably not going to be able to go back through the ol' flist, so if you have exciting news, updates, etc, lemme know! (And man, after being in front of the Lehman Brothers building as their executives filed out with boxes of their stuff, can I say how glad I am to no longer work in the stocks trade? What a week. R, I'm thinking of you in particular!)