balls y’alls, balls

On the move again.
Balls y’alls, balls. Once again I’m sitting through this 5hr presentation. Man, I thought I’d seen the last of it back in Taiwan, but here we go again. I mean, for real, I know this thing by heart now – even the parts that aren’t mine. It’s like we’re the cast of Cats or something, can you imagine how bored they must’ve been of performing that play? I bet any cast member could fill in for any other cast member. I mean, I could speak to everyone’s stuff – but I probably couldn’t answer all the questions like they can. Really, I don’t even care. My stuff is at the very end, so I’m gonna blow through it and get out of here.

Well, everyone I know back in my hometown in Florida has abandoned ship and is heading for higher ground. (Everyone is, or everyone are? Is, right?). Anyway, there were mandatory evacuations in Rockledge, my old stomping grounds, even though the only people the cops were actually forcing out were mobile home owners. I suppose that’s good, God has demonstrated again and again his opinion of mobile homes. He hates them so bad, he’s made them tornado and hurricane magnets – poor mobile home people. But really, if it’s in the definition of your house’s name that it can be easily moved – you might’ve thought you’d have some idea. Anyway, to all my people in Florida who may be reading this entry huddled by candlelight in an emergency shelter – good luck and hope you and your stuff stays put and stays dry.

I’m not too excited about flying right now, another 3hr+ flight to Portland. We had a 7am meeting this morning, and since my head is still on PST time it was really a 5am meeting to me. Waking up at 6am (4am in my brain) after staying up to watch Kerry’s midnight RNC rebuttal was tough, so I’m pretty freaking tired – so I plan on sleeping the entire flight. Having to wear dress shoes today is not helping my busted big toes either, and they are throbbing in my shoes now as I type. As soon as I get outta here I’m throwing these clunkers in the trunk and putting on my flip flops. Easier to get through airport security that way too, since I’m obviously not hiding any bombs in my Reefs.

I was thinking about how seasoned I am now to the whole traveling thing. Back in college, I remember getting on a plane in Florida to go to my job interview in California – and only vaguely remembering how to do the whole thing. I think the last time I’d flown before that was when the whole family moved to Florida in the first place., twelve years prior Now it’s all familiar, the security check-in, the terminals and baggage claim, everything. While I’m far from what I’d consider a frequent traveler (comparing myself to some others I work with), I do travel enough that I consider myself and airport and rental car veteran. Give me a hotel room, a company meal-ticket, and some frequent flier miles – and I’m good to go.

Sometimes, when I’m in a crowded pace, I like to stare around at the ladies and play a game in my head called “who would I do?” It’s a pretty simple game really, I just look around and pick out girls who, if it came down to it, I would hump. Now, since the game is all hypothetical, it’s not a problem being married or anything – and it’s fair to assume, for the purpose of the game, that all girls who I chose to do would indeed give in to my attentions. So, right now, at the George Bush International Airport in Houston, Texas, terminal C37 – there are about eight girls around me who qualify. I mean, that girl over there with the long brown hair: I would totally do her. Oh, and this older-berry of indeterminate ethnic origin sitting to my right: totally do her. Blondie in the pinstriped pants across the aisle here: put her on the list, ’cause I’m totally doin’ her. Anyway, you get the picture.

Guess that’s it for a Friday night, I’m sure no one’ll be reading this until Monday morning anyway… but at least I only missed a day this week. Dave out.

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