Okay, so while I enjoy emailing other people and threatening to take them down, I’m actually terrible at promoting myself in any real way. But many lovely readers have been emailing me and being all WTF, OMG, so here: the Weblog awards. I am just informing you of their existence, and not trying to influence your vote in any way. This attitude is why my worthy adversaries are trouncing me.
But hey, I’m in California now, and we are so laid back here. I’m getting served cappuccino in a bowl each morning. A BOWL. What need have I for public acclaim? When I can dip my head into my caffeine trough?
Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have milk froth on my nose?
Of course I do.
I was thinking I should share my plane-riding adventures with you, but my travels were fairly boring, which is just how I like ‘em. Lately every time I get on a plane it seems to morph into a bucking bronco and I spend the trip praying fervently to St. Keepthisplanealoft, but this time there was barely a bump or a dip. My prayers have been working!
The only moment worth mentioning happened when we had returned to Earth. Everyone was filing out, and when it was my turn to get up from my seat, I attempted to stand and was unable to, as I was still buckled in. It was a pretty spazzy move, and many passengers were standing in the aisle, politely waiting for me to figure out how to stand, so it did not go unnoticed. Sigh. Once one is over 35, one should really be able to release oneself from one’s seat without incident. I tried to make eye contact with my fellow passengers to chuckle at my ineptitude, but everyone was averting their gaze. No reason the mentally challenged can’t travel by themselves, they were thinking. One refresher course on unbuckling, and she’d be good to go.