|Blogging Like I've Never Blogged Before|
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
Telluride is such a great little town with a population of around 2,000. This morning on the subway, there were probably about 5,000 people in one car with me, which means 10,000 stinky ass sweaty armpits crapping up my olfactories. My friend Dave, who lives out there has a view of mountains from his house (you can sit on his crapper and watch the sunset over a mountain). I have a view of P.S. 17 in Brooklyn.
Another big difference between Telluride and New York is that out there, people put their garbage in these things called "trash cans." It's so weird, because here in NY, we dispose of trash on the street or on subway tracks or in our pillow cases or in Staten Island.
Anyway, I'm not happy to be home right now. Here are some things I've learned or items worth noting from my trip:
-- Blistex sets off metal detectors.
-- The staff at the Starbucks in the Houston airport are incredibly incompetent.
-- Southern accents can either be kind of cool, or the most fucking annoying sound on the face of the earth.
-- I hate flying. I'm not scared to fly, I just hate the process. I hate putting my bag in the overhead compartment. I hate flight attendants asking me if I want a drink. I hate how pilots can't just talk without going, "Uhhhh," before everything they say. I just hate it. I don't know why. It used to be fun as a kid. Me and my little sister used to play a game called "Who do you think is going to blow up the plane?" The game consisted of us looking at almost every guy on the plane and then saying, "Oh, he's gonna blow up the plane. No wait. That guy. It's him." We would probably be arrested if we did that now. There was also one time we were about to land in Florida, and we were both air sick at the same time and fought over the barf bag. I think I won, but I really can't remember.
-- If I had my own plane, I think I'd like flying. I just want to be left alone. People are at their most annoying on a plane. I think if I saw my family from when we were kids on a plane now, I'd hate us. I just remember my mother carrying about seven bags and my dad telling us to keep quiet or something. I bet we were a horrible family to sit near on planes. My flight back last night was great because I had my own row and there were some lightning storms going on while there was also an awesome sunset. If was like sky porn.
-- Two girls that worked security at Newark airport got into a shouting match at five in the morning the day I was leaving. Here is a portion of what they said during their argument (I'm not sure what happened that lead up to this point):
-- Lady 1: Whatever. Your mother.
-- Lady 2: Your kids.
-- Lady 1: Your mother.
-- Lady 2: Your kids.
Best argument I have ever heard. "Your kids." That's brilliant. I'm not sure what it means, but I'm going to start using it. I think I heard a similar argument on Hannity & Colmes the other day.
I know there was more I wanted to write about, but I can't recall. Oh well. Maybe I'll think of it later. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a job to hate.