content management is such
a pain. we call these orphaned
archives. browse!

Made For

To :
Cc :
Attchmnt:
Subject : 3:37am
----- Message Text -----


Spent most of the night thinking it was still early, then realized my laptop was on Pacific time. Missed my chance to have dinner out, ate (drank) bad instant miso instead.

The woman-- I think it was a woman, it was some sort of vague chicago art student-- who sat in the aisle seat near my window seat kept listening to the inflight entertainment despite intermitent extremely loud outbursts of white noise. Loud enough that, from her headphones, it woke me from my redeye slumber. Sometimes when driving I wish it was legal to just tap people; just a little, "fuck you, asshole" tap, and last night I wished it was acceptable to just reach over and turn off someone's armrest-radio. She smelled like smoke.

Cocteau Twins did a version of Frosty the Snowman. It's very, well, cheery. It's just like you would expect from a rendition of Frosty the Snowman. It's 2002; not the song but the year. That is to say, can you believe it? This time of year always puts me in a terrible mood; join the club, I suppose.

I caught a cold on the airplane. This never happens to me. In between sleeping and wishing I was sleeping I decided to test out an idea that I've had for a while. My row-mate was listening to the control tower on her impossibly loud (I'm not so sure there wasn't a speaker somewhere) headphones so I popped a MD chock full of my favorites from techno's past. Here's the proposition: Bars, frite restaurants, hotels all have DJs; why shouldn't airplanes? Virgin, of course, would be first to try this out. Extra points if one of the channels on the seatback-unit was a video mix with images from the scenery below, eye candy, control tower chatter, and good music being brewed into a trance stew.

I already mentioned the shoe xray thing but is that a joke or what? has a terrible lack of signage too, no one had any clue what to do. In front of the xray machine is a table with a huge pile of plastic bins and standing next to the metal dector is an old man who speaks three words of english. I really wouldn't care how well he does or doesn't speak english if the signage was done well but at neither offer much help. After an odd exchange we worked out that my shoes should come off, go into a plastic bin and be fed into the machine. My laptop, on the other hand, should be taken out of it's case and put into a similar (but not the same) plastic dish and fed through the machine seperately. My favorite is when they make you turn it on, as if a determined person couldn't find space for both the chips that make the machine work and the explosives that make it go boom. Jackets must be put through seperately too. I'd like to see them scan one of the new North Face dealies.At any rate, new signage needs to be worked out for and, more importantly the shoe bullshit needs to be cut out.

nayrbreyob (3:43 AM): hopefully I will wake up in time. I am really being fucked with by Father Time right now.

<< Older (2004-09-17)These are orphans. Take pity on them. Newer (2001-10-17) >>