Oh be nice

So I've done a fair amount of flying in the past several weeks, and I observed an unsettling amount of inconsiderate, rude, and just plain petty behavior on the planes and in the airports. I wonder to what extent the travelling situation brings this out in people, or if this is just a nice place to do a case study on the way we all really treat each other when left to our own devices. I hope it's the former. But...still, knock that shit off.

Pushy O'Linecutter? I'm looking at you. I kid you not...for one of my flights, after they called rows 16 and higher to board, this woman decided not to join the end of the line as, say, my class in 4 pre-K at Rowland Hall St. Marks Episcopal School for fine ladies and gents mastered after the first time the race to tricycles came to blows. Rather, she rushed at the side, and then started asking people if they were rows 16 or higher. By "asked," I mean "stuck an accusing finger in my face and snarled." I kind of wanted to see how far I could push her...by, like, mouthing "row 15" and winking. It seemed ill-advised, though, because she totally looked like one of those small but sturdy women who could turn into a hissing, flailing mass of limbs and teeth really, really fast. When she finally fell in place in the line, she decided we'd all get on the plane faster if she barked "oh COME ON!" every time it took more than a few seconds to deal with someone's boarding pass.

Mr. What-do-you-mean-there's-no-room-for-my-piano-sized-duffel-bag-in-the-overheard-bin? I'm looking at you. The flight attendants finally had to come grab this guy and forcibly take the damn bag from him so they could check it. On an empty flight, the thing wasn't fitting in the overhead bin, but this fucker was full to the gills and he was the last person on. You'd think after the seventh or eighth time up and down the aisle with no luck finding a spot, he'd have been happy to give up, but he seemed really committed to another 5 laps or so up and down the plane. Hookay. Just sit, please.

Parents of Screamy McTantrum? If you let your kid do the fake crying act like that in public very often, don't be surprised when someone takes matters into their own hands. For god's sake, we were trapped. Together. On a plane. Shut her up. I don't care how many toys or how much Dramamine it takes, just go to. I understand that I don't have kids, I don't know, meh meh mlah...but I definitely know the difference between legitimate crying and that screamy-cry that toddlers do that's totally voluntary and fueled by boredom, attention-hunger, or both. I think it would have even been mildly tolerable if they had, like, tried to do anything about it. Look, just because you're gotten to the point where you can tune it out doesn't mean the other 150 folks on this thing have. Next time, she's quiet or she flies baggage.

It's not hard to be polite on a plane. Don't break out the shoe polish. Don't recline your seat all the way back without first looking to see if doing so will cause coffee to go all over my lap (really, I don't think there's much call to recline your seat all the way back in coach on a domestic flight if someone's behind you at all, since it takes away so much of the precious little space we're allotted for our three hundred bucks, but whatev). Don't shove other people's bags out of the way so you can lay your coat flat. Don't reach right past someone who's aiming their bag at a spot in the overhead just so you can get yours in first and thus take the only remaining spot in that compartment. Just...don't be an asshole. Mkay?

Houston was really fun, interviewing was great, Captain and Mr. Chaos were lovely hosts. I'm a little sad to be back in the cold, cold iceland we know as Michigan, surrounded by piles of casebooks to keep me warm. Max has the right idea with the sleeping directly on the heat vent. I may do the same in a minute here.

How much does 500 bucks weigh?

When it's in casebook form, a lot. I bought books today for the semester...pale waltzing lord it was expensive and heavy. That's what you get for picking Trusts and Estates for the 5th class, rather than something seminar-y with lots of xerox packets. Let me put it this way: the stack of books is almost taller than my laptop screen when it's open. And to think--on MTW, I have to have all of them with me!

After several days of decent effort towards getting my apartment reorganized, rearranged, and clean, I had a totally nonproductive day. Aside from getting the books, I didn't really do anything today. Took a good nap. Made some good pancakes. Screwed around on the internet. I've felt kind of crummy all day, and I'm hoping upon hope that it's just psychosomatic and that I don't have mono. Ah well, doc's office tomorrow.

The good news is that I fanagled another interview in Houston for this week--let's hope one of these things gets me a real, live, paid job for the summer. Somehow I don't think I can pay the bills with Diamond, Sedaka & Young, even though I made killer letterhead last night. In a glance, you'd never realize it's a fake firm...unless you notice the list of their offices' cities include things like Duluth, Provo, and Magna in addition to the standard fare.

I wish someone could explain to me why Max, the cat who hates all food that isn't cat food, has developed a love of coffee. Seriously, if I have a mug sitting on the desk, he'll plunk his face right in and start drinking before I can totally grasp that my cat is actually drinking hot coffee. If he even smells it in the mug, he'll start lapping at the air with his tongue before he even hits the liquid. Then again, he licks the blind cords, so who's accounting for taste?

Warmest wishes to J, whom I miss dearly.

Well that sucked

I left my dad's house at 6:15 (mountain time) this morning....er, yesterday morning....January 5. I arrived in my apartment at 3:15 am (eastern time) on January 6. The interim was made up of a royally shitty melange of sitting in various airport/airplane venues. Chicago? Is a fucking mess right now. Highlights of the day include screaming children, old people with small bladders, and United employees with a sick sense of humor that manifested itself in a grand conspiracy between B concourse employees and C concourse employees to make me run back and forth between the two sides of the terminal. It's B1, no! It's C23, no! It's B7, no! It's C21, no! It's F689327! Yeah! Run!

Fuckers. I could have them fired.

Starting with the bar set low

My first post for 2005 will be decidedly mediocre, as absolutely nothing of interest wants to strike my little brain right now as I sit in my dad and stepmom's living room listening to dad snowblow the driveway. It's New Year's Day, the cinnamon rolls have been consumed, I'd really like someone to make another pot of coffee but can't be arsed to do it myself, I slept on a totally awful sleeper sofa last night, this house is too damn hot at night, and we're eventually going to trudge through the snow to help littlest stepsister move into a new apartment.

Yep, sounds like a visit to dad's house. It hasn't worked out timing-wise for me to come here around holiday time in, like, 8 years, so this is a new one for me. I left my mom's house in Montana yesterday, did a totally redundant flight through Denver to get to SLC (hey, thanks United--way to make an hour's worth of flying take a whole damn morning), and will be here through Tuesday. My plans to go running here may have just been totally foiled, as SLC decided to get a shitload of snow last night. Ah well, I brought a jumprope.

Ah, duty calls--it's time to dismantle a bed to take to little stepsis's apartment.

Happy New Year, all!