michelle speaks

The top five things that are bothering me right now as I am flying over the southwestern United States on America West flight #220:

1. My ass hurts from sitting in these coach seats which appear to be cushioned with ass kryptonite.
2. My legs hurt. Crossed on the left, crossed on the right, uncrossed — it doesn’t flipping matter. It’s just a vicious, painful cycle. The pain of a leg cramp, the subsequent position shift, the brief sense of relief followed quickly by another leg cramp. Make it stop.
3. I don’t like the pants I chose to wear. Well, I do like the pants in the global sense. They’re old navy khaki cargo pants. They have lots of pockets. I like pockets. I just feel sloppy when I’d rather be feeling hip. I should have gone for hip.
4. Turbulence. I don’t like it. It renders me morbid. I start mentally giving away all my personal effects. And I especially don’t like turbulence on a night flight because it reminds me of that scary twilight zone movie. Thank god I’m not sitting next to the wing.
5. I should have said “the top four things–” because I don’t really have a number five. I wrote the title of the list before I started it. That was a mistake and I apologize for it.

It is now Friday morning. I made it safely to Pam’s house last night. She’s in the shower. I would now like to mention that Pam’s shower is not for the elementary. There are two nozzles and four faucet turn things (yes, that is the technical term). I didn’t know I needed a preparatory course before I tried to operate it. I did figure it out, mind you, but there was some definite brow furling and head scratching involved.

I slept on the lucky couch last night. Evidently, everybody who has slept on the couch has had some sort of windfall of luck. Of course, that is exactly what I would tell people who I was about to make sleep on an uncomfortable vinyl couch. I slept pretty well last night though. Ray woke me up at about 9:30am when he got home from bringing Dustin (One Hit Wonder boy) to the airport. Then, he went back to bed. I figure he gets about another twenty minutes of sleep before I wake his ass up in revenge.

So my vacation has begun. It’s short, but jam-packed. I’m doing a little reminiscing (I grew up in Orange County), seeing old friends, going to a bonafide hollywood shindig, and the list goes on. I’ve all but forgotten that, back in Austin, I have no job, my car is at the mechanic, and we’re running out of beer in our refrigerator. Who cares? I’m in L.A., baby. Bee bop.