The one thing I really forgot about getting myself all worked up about this vacation is that it probably helps not to really hate flying when you’re expected to um, fly across the country. I always find the planes are never big enough when the lovely tin can being smacked across the skies scenarios start. I sat in my seat, eyes closed and hand squeezing a water bottle into an unrecognizable shape. The plane bobbed, weaved, and dropped and passengers around giggled in that hysterical way people do to keep from crying. I fucking hate flying. I also hate that lady who was sitting behind me and having a running commentary on everything from take off. “whoa…look at that cloud…that looks like Ontario Mills Mall…blah blah Bush…blah blah someone punch me in the face because I don’t have an off button.” Her comment on the big drop that made me and the girl next to me feel really ill: “well…that was a big one.” Sheesh. I really had to stop myself from climbing over the seat and throttling her.
Then again, I got no sleep and I’m still tired. But, I’m in LA. Tell me why it feels like NYC fall day here? I want some beach gazing weather! On the agenda is a fast food tour and doing my best to recreate my NYC party life. And hopefully meeting new folks. Do Angelenos bite? Are drinks cheap? Does everything really shut down at 2am? I’ll find out that and more in between now and Monday.