Sab: now with bears!
I'm home, anyway. I was in Portland, Oregon, with runpunkrun and shaye and Shaye's hair. And circusgirl though we somehow...and it didn't go, quite. *waving at Jess*
But I've got a little polar bear called Iorek and a big black bear called -- I forgot what the big black bear's called, and a riff on Jenga and pickup sticks with monkeys in and Parcheesi with water buffalos in and a baby rhino, because when runpunkrun and I take on a city, apparently a safari-type weather system moves in.
Coming home, I listened to the air tower channel on the airplane headphones, and for the last ten minutes one air traffic controller at LAX wrangled ten flights at differing altitudes and speed with the grace of a prima choreographer and I was so impressed I took notes which say things like: "above traffic" "below traffic" "confirm either aircraft or tower" "non-heavy airbus" "on short final" "follow the airbus" and "taxi charlie to the gate." I took three Ativan for the flight in and not a single one for the flight home, because somehow the all tower control station serves a similarly reassuring purpose. I think I feel okay about the sky again.
Still, dude, I leave LJ and people have, like, birthdays (HAPPY HAL, Hal!) and so forth. And the Gangs of New York (quasiradiant, furies, rfkfortheusa and the International Princess intl_princess) tried to call and I missed 'em, everybody say HOWDY, say PARTY, lovingkindness winging its way east to you.
My throat hurts and Francis says it's laryngitis because we did, truly, talk nonstop except when eating eggrolls.
Thursday's my last day of work. This is a lot of information for one LJ entry, especially for one so cold and tired as I am.
I leave you with this thought: I bought three different interpretations of The Epic of Gilgamesh at Powell's and after I read them all I have some things to say about them, as well as the updated Kurt Cobain high school set Gilgamesh play I saw last week.
Lost in the desert, too cold to think, you gotta know about the milk truck if you wanna drink.
But I've got a little polar bear called Iorek and a big black bear called -- I forgot what the big black bear's called, and a riff on Jenga and pickup sticks with monkeys in and Parcheesi with water buffalos in and a baby rhino, because when runpunkrun and I take on a city, apparently a safari-type weather system moves in.
Coming home, I listened to the air tower channel on the airplane headphones, and for the last ten minutes one air traffic controller at LAX wrangled ten flights at differing altitudes and speed with the grace of a prima choreographer and I was so impressed I took notes which say things like: "above traffic" "below traffic" "confirm either aircraft or tower" "non-heavy airbus" "on short final" "follow the airbus" and "taxi charlie to the gate." I took three Ativan for the flight in and not a single one for the flight home, because somehow the all tower control station serves a similarly reassuring purpose. I think I feel okay about the sky again.
Still, dude, I leave LJ and people have, like, birthdays (HAPPY HAL, Hal!) and so forth. And the Gangs of New York (quasiradiant, furies, rfkfortheusa and the International Princess intl_princess) tried to call and I missed 'em, everybody say HOWDY, say PARTY, lovingkindness winging its way east to you.
My throat hurts and Francis says it's laryngitis because we did, truly, talk nonstop except when eating eggrolls.
Thursday's my last day of work. This is a lot of information for one LJ entry, especially for one so cold and tired as I am.
I leave you with this thought: I bought three different interpretations of The Epic of Gilgamesh at Powell's and after I read them all I have some things to say about them, as well as the updated Kurt Cobain high school set Gilgamesh play I saw last week.
Lost in the desert, too cold to think, you gotta know about the milk truck if you wanna drink.