"working on my faults and cracks..."


We've got your hell and high water

"I've got my things, and I'm good to go..."

I get a different re-impression of the United States every time I get back here, from some extended stay in Japan. Three years ago, America was "deep-dish pizza and liberally applied Speed Stick." Last summer, it was "surly grunt (thanks, a-hole immigration people)." Then, just yesterday; America is..."sunburned, and really ugly denim." Not saying it's true. Just saying it's the first thing that popped into my head on the shuttle bus to customs. Maybe he was from Canada. Guess we'll never know. Too bad that you never have a second chance to make a first re-impression.

"Sometimes perfection can be perfect hell...

I think the only other time I can remember wearing the same clothes for 48 hours straight was two days ago when I left for Kansai International. And...holycrap I'm still wearing them. Cripes! I can see personal history getting made! I'd love to commemorate the day, and maybe even the time, but I don't know either. Oh, it's 35:72 o'clock? Sure, why not?
48 hours spent cramped on planes, moping around terminals, cursing at rotten cheating AI in Puzzle Quest, destroying eardrums under HIPV and Social D, and searching the vernacular for a softer way to ask a certain clueless H.I.S. travel agent to kindly go get fucked. Ok, fine. Too harsh. Even if I said "with all due respect," I still doubt he would. Sure, I'd love to say it was my fault for landing a borderline idiotic itinerary requiring no less than three hours of downtime in four different airports, but there have been open seats on every plane I've been on so far. Except on the flight from Honolulu...I think those seats were cleared out after that one baby started puking. Made me want to barf, myself. Not because I was overly nauseated from the tantalizing aromas of week-old cheese omelette and soupy vomit in a confined space at 3 in the morning, but rather just to spite the kid for being such a softy.
Memorable flight. Unappetizing at best though.

"One more flight, and I'm done..."

I'm bruised--the first of many more. Still, I couldn't be happier about it.
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