(no subject)
My father once told me that you should always wear sensible shoes on planes: it was sound advice, considering, especially since when it comes to connecting flights, I often find myself running.
My trip to California last summer was no exception - I ran all the way from B terminal to D terminal, because my first flight was so delayed that it actually got in after my connecting flight was scheduled to depart, and there was, of course, a shuttle to E terminal, which was thirty feet further down the concourse, but D was totally close enough to walk! There was also the situation in Cincinnati - which by the way is a really daft name for a city - wherein I had to take two escalators, four moving sidewalks, and two shuttles to get to the terminal I was going to, only to sit down for five minutes and find that my flight had been switched back to the original gate. This occured while I was coming down with the cold from hell, which I promptly gave to every single person in Rochester, MN and St. Louis.
However, the downside to wearing sensible shoes is that when you have to go through check-in points, you have to take your shoes off, and retying them is something of a bitch, especially if you're late.
This morning, I woke up and started making mental packing lists - I haven't actually packed or anything, because I am a lazy, procrastinating bum, but due to a discussion about what is appropriate attire with tights and how sensible my hooker boots actually are, it occured to me: I own sensible slip-on shoes. I have never been so overcome with joy in my life.
(I state for the record that hostile_21 disapproves of these shoes, and wishes I'd burn them, much the way she wishes I'd burn 9/10ths of my shoes, but I spent formative years wading through swamps. My criteria do not involve fashion, they fall somewhere along the lines of, "Good arch support, but if I accidentally step in a carcass, is this going to show the digestive juices? No? Okay, then!")
On an equally happy note, there will totally be fic(s) up sometime this weekend, which I realize is a really stupid thing to do just before I leave for a week with questionable computer access, but Christmas is Christmas.
Also, if guppy gestation is 28 days, I'm just gonna state for the record that 28 days from now, I'm gonna have guppy babies. The frankenguppies are definitely not what you'd call chaste. They have been in this tank for less than 24 hours, and already, they are having some sort of weird threesome wherein the male alternates chasing the two female and shaking his tail at them like a go-go dancer. He's got definitely talent - maybe I should send him to Las Vegas to become a showgirlguppy.
My trip to California last summer was no exception - I ran all the way from B terminal to D terminal, because my first flight was so delayed that it actually got in after my connecting flight was scheduled to depart, and there was, of course, a shuttle to E terminal, which was thirty feet further down the concourse, but D was totally close enough to walk! There was also the situation in Cincinnati - which by the way is a really daft name for a city - wherein I had to take two escalators, four moving sidewalks, and two shuttles to get to the terminal I was going to, only to sit down for five minutes and find that my flight had been switched back to the original gate. This occured while I was coming down with the cold from hell, which I promptly gave to every single person in Rochester, MN and St. Louis.
However, the downside to wearing sensible shoes is that when you have to go through check-in points, you have to take your shoes off, and retying them is something of a bitch, especially if you're late.
This morning, I woke up and started making mental packing lists - I haven't actually packed or anything, because I am a lazy, procrastinating bum, but due to a discussion about what is appropriate attire with tights and how sensible my hooker boots actually are, it occured to me: I own sensible slip-on shoes. I have never been so overcome with joy in my life.
(I state for the record that hostile_21 disapproves of these shoes, and wishes I'd burn them, much the way she wishes I'd burn 9/10ths of my shoes, but I spent formative years wading through swamps. My criteria do not involve fashion, they fall somewhere along the lines of, "Good arch support, but if I accidentally step in a carcass, is this going to show the digestive juices? No? Okay, then!")
On an equally happy note, there will totally be fic(s) up sometime this weekend, which I realize is a really stupid thing to do just before I leave for a week with questionable computer access, but Christmas is Christmas.
Also, if guppy gestation is 28 days, I'm just gonna state for the record that 28 days from now, I'm gonna have guppy babies. The frankenguppies are definitely not what you'd call chaste. They have been in this tank for less than 24 hours, and already, they are having some sort of weird threesome wherein the male alternates chasing the two female and shaking his tail at them like a go-go dancer. He's got definitely talent - maybe I should send him to Las Vegas to become a showgirlguppy.