September 30th, 2002

mr. robin

Five touchdowns

Getting up in the morning is hard, it always has been. Getting up in the morning now that it's dark, still, is despairingable. Getting up when it's so chilly that I decide to warm up the car first . . . superdespairingable.*

I have to go to the grocery store tonight; among other things, my milk is expired, I have no tomato sauce (crucial for several easy-to-prepare, hot one-person dinners), and I'm out of toilet paper.

Holy cow, did you see that football last night? Well, first of all, the Eagles were a joy to watch, yet again. I'm sorry I had to miss them last week. They did another trick play again yesterday! A fake punt! I love those guys.

I tried to watch the four o'clock games; I had Amani Toomer playing, after all. I sat in the kitchen in front of the Tiny TV so that I could watch the game at the same time as Wiffle Ball, but after the first Wiffle Ball game and the first half, I decided to move to the couch in the living room. The new, luxurious, decadent couch. I napped with the soothing sounds of football in my ear. Ahhh. Nice.

And then that Sunday night game. Shaun Alexander is on my fantasy squad, he was my first-round pick, and he's been doing jack shit so far this season, despite his promise. Last night he scored five touchdowns in the first half. Five touchdowns. Man was it loud in the living room, it was like watching the Eagles again, we were all rooting for Seattle. Ahh, Seattle. And it was nice again there, apparently. And here I thought it was only nice when I was visiting.

He didn't do shit in the second half, though. Which didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, but they have a bye week next week, so Shaun, don't go forgetting everything you did in that first half, okay? I need you, buddy, I need you with me for the rest of the season. I'm now one and three, thank freaking goodness.

On Thursday I drove up to Michelle's house, to watch the NBC season premieres. Which sounds stupid, maybe? Yeah, well, fuck you. I miss Michelle, and watching Must See TV reminds me of sophomore and senior years, and it just ain't the same without Michelle. She's been having a run of bad luck lately, and it was good so good to see her. And she called Sunday but my cell phone was dead and that's such a fucking shame, I really should keep on top of that.

*Hey, if the President of the United States of America can say "embetterment", then I can make up new and exciting words, too.
mr. robin

Fucking kids these days, I'll tell you what

Fuckers stole my radar detector on Friday. My good, sweet, wonderful, powerful, snazzy, best-friend-in-the-car radar detector, which was given to me for no good goddamn reason except KINDNESS by good, sweet, kind, generous Rhino.

After work on Friday I went up to my apartment, and I left my windows open a bit. Not all the way, just about four or five inches. Could someone get their arm in there? Of course. I knew that. I didn't know that someone would wrestle inside my car while it was sitting right outside my apartment. In fact I thought I was having TRUST ISSUES because I was having such problems allowing myself to leave my car in such an insecure state, sometimes.

Fucking hoodlums. Fucking kids. I'm going to try to hit with my car every single kid I see in my parking lot from now on, those little fuckers. Or I hope it was my psycho downstairs neighbor, and that she forgets, and leaves it visible in her car windshield, and I can go downstairs and yell at her. Ha. I bet she thinks I killed her dog. (I didn't).

I'm not actually that upset, though. Offended that I was robbed in my own apartment complex? LUXURY apartment complex (it says so right on the sign)? Yes. Likely to purchase another radar detector? No. But they left my cee deez (nutz). They left everything else. I never paid for the damn thing in the first place, it was a gift. So it could have been a lot worse.

Still though, man. Those fuckers.
mr. robin

I love flying

"I love flying". That's what I kept thinking that I would title my first LiveJournal entry about my Seattle trip. "I love flying". You're not supposed to, you're supposed to hate it, but I love it. I discovered five days later that I'm more blase about it when I'm heading away from mountains, and my vacation, but you know. Flying's still pretty great.

Last Friday -- not this past Friday, silly, the one before that, the 20th -- I got on a plane at eight in the morning. Mitchell drove me to the airport WAY before dawn, oh MAN was it dark out, so as thanks I cooked him breakfast in the morning. Five forty-five is early for so much bacon, and it made our tummies hurt a little, but it was still good.

I was torn up until the last second whether or not to check my bag -- "I'm going to check it, no, no, I'll take it as carry on, no, no, I'll check it" and in the end I decide to check it because I don't want to fucking have to deal with it, and then I saw it both loaded ONTO and then OFFFROM the plane, from my window, so my mind was at ease.

I like the taking off, I think it's scary, I think about all the things that could go wrong. I'm not scared to fly at all, not even a little bit, but my mind reminds itself that it SHOULD be thinking about all the things that could go wrong, LOTS of people are scared to fly, let's review again the reasons why. So take-offs are exciting, though not as exciting as landings.

Then in the beginning you can see neighborhoods and developments, and I critique their layout, as taught to me in Urban Planning by my snobby elitist I-don't-own-a-car-and-also-I-live-in-Princeton Urban Planning professor.

Then it gets all cloudy and boring and I discover that my $3.99 inflatable headrest was worth it definitely for sure ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzz.

Then they serve breakfast, and did I mention the flight wasn't even close to full? I'm not sure I've ever been on a flight that wasn't full before, but man was it fantastic. No one sitting next to me, so I could put my stuff on the seat. No one behind me, so I could recline without worry. And the food came fast.

While I was eating, I looked out the window. There was a soft carpet of clouds below us, way below us. And then I saw a speck! A dark speck, just above the carpet of clouds. Teeny tiny, a tinyster black speck, moving very very slowly, but very very straightly, towards the plane, but way underneath it. I was mesmerized. I was sure it was a UFO of some kind. I watched it carefully, and it moved slowly, but in such a straight line! So direct! It began to disappear under the plane, I had my forehead squished up against the window. Finally finally, just before it disappeared, its shape began to be discernible: it was a plane! A jet, just like the one I was in! I could see the wings!

Man, can you imagine how far BELOW us it must have been? To be "aligned" with us for so long, as we were zooming though the air at hundreds of miles an hour? To be nothing but a SPECK, a mere dot, a big huge plane reduced to a mere dot? We must have been SO HIGH UP. I'll tell you what man, airplanes still amaze me. That not only have we figured out how to fly, we can get HUNDREDS of people up in the air at the same time, we can feed them FRENCH TOAST and give them a decent bathroom and have them fall asleep and read and talk and watch movies! We can throw this huge piece of steel up in the air and it will stay there for HOURS at a time! Amazing, simply amazing. Teleportation should be right around the corner. I can't wait.

OH and then the mountains! Later I was awake again, for Coke and pretzels, and there were mountains outside, although I knew they weren't really mountains. The stupid flight attendant didn't know where we were. But they were beautiful, hills I guess, and you could see rivers, and farms, and how the rivers went through the mountains, and how the farms came up to the mountains and then had to stop, jagged edges. And the hills would turn into flat and then hills again and then REAL mountains, REAL ones this time with snow and everything, we don't have mountains where I come from, I would say that so many times. We don't have mountains. And then I thought of all the real mountains I had ever seen, and they are the Alps in Germany, and the green mountains in Vermont, and the ones in Virginia in Shenandoah which maybe are the Shenandoah mountains, or maybe they're the Appalachians or something, but those guys aren't like these mountains, these are real moutains, all jagged rock and snow and rock and MOUNTAINS and we don't have mountains where I come from. This is about the part where I started thinking "I love flying!" and I was on vacation and almost in Seattle where they have mountains, and then we came in over the city and there were highways and lakes and bridges and houses and schoolbuses and everything just gets bigger and bigger and then you land and then you're there.