Journal from the 'Nati to London

Still State-side...


3.25.2005 – 2:14pm (EST)
I need to get used to this iPod. Some jerk just got dropped off next to me by one of those airport golf carts. In no way is he disabled in any way, shape or form. I promptly muttered ‘you lazy fork’ under my breath. Only, with music blaring in my ears, my muttering volume was decidedly skewed. I don’t think he’ll be sending me a Christmas card.

3.25.2005 – 4:09pm (CST)
Delicious irony. I am stuffed into a tiny seat right next to the fork. Nolies. He’s a frumpy-looking fellow. I’ve never seen someone read the SkyMall magazine with such vigor. He’s like a 13 year old boy with the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. His intensity rises with each turn of the page. It’s uncanny.

3.25.2005 – 4:24pm (CST)
15 minutes later and our lethargic utensil is still visibly flustered over something he read in the Sky Mall magazine. Must have been the hot dog buntoaster.

3.26.2005 – somewhere over the Atlantic
The plane is absolutely packed. I am in the dead center but this is BritishAirways, so the comfort level is pretty good. The great majority of the plane consists of high school kids, going on a trip to Europe. This is strangely comforting to me. I can’t tell how old people are by looking at them. 15 year old girls look to me like they are 21. Then again, this might have something to do with the fact that I still think that I am 23. This is a lie. I am 22. I am served roast beef and a salad accompanied by ‘ranch style’ dressing...ranch style. I start wondering what kind of style I am, and more importantly, if my style could be encompassed in one word. I start to become envious of this little condiment, which has fashioned itself a concrete identity. ‘Pardon me, but what is your style?’… ‘Why my dearfellow, I am ranch’.

3.26.2005 – 3:48pm (London time)
I am holed up in the Ibis hotel for the afternoon. My next leg does notdepart until 9:45pm. This means that I have to navigate the cruel and confusing labyrinth that is Heathrow airport for a second time. I think someone put cement in my large bag because it was not this heavy yesterday. On a good note, I am able to pug my lap top (using power converters) into international outlets and charge my equipment. This was crucial, since my pc is responsible for maintaining my iPod and camera. The man at RadioShack had tried to convince me that I needed some sort of wattage filter, since the global outlets pump out more juice than the U. S. counterparts (on aside, foolish dumb American note, when I was listening to him tell me this, I was thinking to myself ‘that’ is not right, the American outlets should be the ones pumping out more power). He had me thinking my lap top was going to explode or at least melt if I dared plugging it in without saidwattage converter/filter/thingy. In fact, I had one of the cleaning ladies plug in my machine while I cowered in the fetal position in the bath tub. Alas, we both survived without incident.