Back in Halifax
Well, it's nice to be home. Lonely, but nice. Come home, Us!
I managed to forget records, Heath Bars, publicity picture of Marlon Brando, and my razor. Boo hiss. Packing drunk and maudlin at 4 am? Baaaaad idea.
Plus, I had an interesting flight. By interesting, I mean verrrry baaaaad. I went to bed at 4.30ish, woke at 6 with a mean hangover, got on a small scary plane at 9.25 after standing in lots of huge lines. There was a small child sitting behind me who kept kicking my chair and giggling, so after about 20 minutes of this, I turned around and snarled that I would feed it to the wolves unless it could be quiet and wellbehaved for the rest of the flight. It shut up, but its mother glared at me. Oh noeses! I was doin that bitch a favor too. Couldn't parent for shit. And then the beverage cart came around and they had no tonic water and they served Beefeater, which I cannot consume on the rocks because it sucks too hard, so I had vodka and sodas. How the hell do you have soda water but not tonic? In retrospect, I should have had a gin and ginger. Only one, though. Ouch. Then I had a nap on the shoulder of the middle-aged guy next to me, who appeared to be involved (according to the spreadsheets on his computer) with the timber business. I napped on a white-collar lumberjack!
In the Halifax airport, I tripped spectacularly over a bench and was therefore questioned extra-hard by the customs agent who saw it because no sober human can trip over a bench, right? I MUST be on the drugs. But I caught the shuttle and then made J.D. help me drag my bags up the hill.
Oh, and the flight was all along the coast. It was beautiful. I was awake when we flew over New York and now have seen Coney Island for the first time. Admittedly, from like a mile up.
I managed to forget records, Heath Bars, publicity picture of Marlon Brando, and my razor. Boo hiss. Packing drunk and maudlin at 4 am? Baaaaad idea.
Plus, I had an interesting flight. By interesting, I mean verrrry baaaaad. I went to bed at 4.30ish, woke at 6 with a mean hangover, got on a small scary plane at 9.25 after standing in lots of huge lines. There was a small child sitting behind me who kept kicking my chair and giggling, so after about 20 minutes of this, I turned around and snarled that I would feed it to the wolves unless it could be quiet and wellbehaved for the rest of the flight. It shut up, but its mother glared at me. Oh noeses! I was doin that bitch a favor too. Couldn't parent for shit. And then the beverage cart came around and they had no tonic water and they served Beefeater, which I cannot consume on the rocks because it sucks too hard, so I had vodka and sodas. How the hell do you have soda water but not tonic? In retrospect, I should have had a gin and ginger. Only one, though. Ouch. Then I had a nap on the shoulder of the middle-aged guy next to me, who appeared to be involved (according to the spreadsheets on his computer) with the timber business. I napped on a white-collar lumberjack!
In the Halifax airport, I tripped spectacularly over a bench and was therefore questioned extra-hard by the customs agent who saw it because no sober human can trip over a bench, right? I MUST be on the drugs. But I caught the shuttle and then made J.D. help me drag my bags up the hill.
Oh, and the flight was all along the coast. It was beautiful. I was awake when we flew over New York and now have seen Coney Island for the first time. Admittedly, from like a mile up.
posted by J at 11:24 AM
1 Comments:
I called you, and spoke only to radio silence. :(
Landing Saturday at 5:30, will likely be home! an hour after that. There may have to be celebratory curry.
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