Thus far I have only seen the inside of the airport, the inside of w0lfstar's car, and the inside of w0lfstar's (very lovely!) house, so I am yet to have my brain properly rocked by having the ocean on the
My flights? Were good. YAY. I was too zoned and feverish to panic, which was great, and dramamine is of the Gods, so I didn't get sick! At all! And people need to remind me of that the next time I start freaking out about flying. Because I was doped to the gills on antiemetics, I actually felt better than I have the whole rest of the week. (Now, of course, I feel like death on a stick again, and so am laying low in Sheryl's house today while she is out with her dad doing Exciting Medical Things in another city.)
I also met very interesting people. My silly Northeasterner plan of "Oh, well, I'll just read and sleep on the plane and maybe write fanfic and no one will talk to me!" apparently does not work once you leave the Umbrella Of Polite Distance that hangs over the northeastern states. On the first flight, I sat next to a career rodeo cowboy from Southern Kentucky -- hat, boots and all -- and learned all about how to tell a good rodeo from a bad one (apparently, it has to do with the clown). On the long flight from Atlanta to Oregon, I talked with a whole bunch of people, many of whom were coming back from Katrina relief, one of whom was a retired chaplain with a lifelong linguistics obsession, and one guy from Alaska who follows the Red Sox, taught me how to say things in Klingon, and -- though his oldest son is only a few years younger than me -- decided that I should totally be his future wife and advised me on the benefits of dating mature men. Err.
So yes! What I have learned so far:
Lesson One: People from all other parts of the country are just way, way friendlier than people from the Northeast. (I know, I know, stop the presses.)