11:24 p.m. - June 08, 2004
There was a time where I would be nervous the night before leading a seminar. I am somewhat disappointed that I've slipped into recall mode: Same material in Dallas, 2003, so Richmond, 2004 - how difficult can it be? Cockiness. Perhaps that's my saving grace.
An accident en route from Denver to Dulles: Stewardess (dbfeb, a confab: PC to call her a stewardess?) spilled two cups of cranberry juice on me and my favorite blue shirt. Soaked my pants, my shirt, and my underwear. Airplane bathrooms are too small to change clothes in, so yours truly soaked in cranberry for a good three hours. The stewardess - her name is Joey and flies United so beware! - was ditzy, clumsy, and kept saying she was used to going to bed at 4:30 a.m., not going to work at that time. In the event of an accident, I'd trust her to be the first one down the inflatable slide with a cheery so sorry!. The first-class cabin guy came back to my section in steerage to apologize and fill out a form documenting the damage. Whoo hoo. United will pay for dry-cleaning and upgrade my return flight. Big deal - five extra inches doesn't count for much when you're not naked. Uh - that came out of nowhere.
On the subject of planes: Anybody else nauseated / irritated at passengers who carry on McDonald's so the cabin smells like a deep fryer? And why is it that the slow folks board first because they need extra time, but don't have to wait til everybody else deplanes? Great-grandma Moses and her retinue of octogenarians held up the last 15 rows of the plane looking for misplaced glasses.
Can ya tell I sat in the back?
I was looking forward to encountering the cicada. Not this far South, however. I'm disappointed.