California Diary Day 6 (2/18)

I wake up, check out, and catch a cab to to the airport.

I'm supposed to fly from San Diego from St. Louis, then St. Louis to Boston. I was worried because I only had a 40 minute layover in St. Louis, so I bribe the baggage guy to make sure my bag arrives safely.

I get on my flight, and I'm supposed to have a window seat, but this old guy is in my seat. The guy is with his wife, and I feel bad about making them move, so I take my seat on the end.

The guy's wife (at least 70 years old) spends the flight reading a Teen People.

I'm jealous of the two guys in front of me. One has a laptop and playing this war simulation game, and the other has a portable DVD player and is watching Troy. I just have my manly Stephanie Plum detective novel.

I really love flying. I don't know why people are afraid of it. That feeling when you're barreling down the runway, then you take off and you know the ground isn't underfoot anymore--that's awesome.

Isn't it amazing that you can cross the country in a day? A hundred years ago, it would take days by train, and 150 years ago it would take months.

I land in St. Louis, where's it's a sprightly 40 degrees. Fuck.

I board my connecting flight, and am pleasantly surprised to find there's only about a dozen people on the flight, so I have a whole row to myself. I solve the Jumble, but the St. Louis Dispatch crossword puzzle is too damn hard.

At what point do Stewardess' get fed up with the seatbelt lecture? After five times? Ten?

I land in Boston. It's twelve degrees. Fuuuuuck.

Two baggage carousels are broken at Logan, so there's one working carousel for three incoming flights, meaning crowds about five deep looking for their luggage. Amazingly, my bag comes out right away and I manage to get the hell out of there within a few minutes.

My sister picks me up and I crash at her place. The next day she drives me to my parents so I can pick up my car. I head back to my place and prepare to take a huge nap, until I step inside and realize it's forty degrees in my apartment. D'oh.

So yeah, Cali's nice. But there is no place like home. Even if it is freezing.