since it’s technically monday now, i’m going to tell you about yesterday, which was technically just a few minutes ago, at this point. but i’ll paint you a picture of my sunday.

12:30pm central time: i leave for houston’s airport from my house. this takes maybe half an hour.

1:00 central: i get to the airport, and have to wait around for a long time for a take-off to chicago, where i transfer to a plane to LA.

2:30 central: take off. two and a half hours in the air. read d.h. lawrence’s lady chatterly’s lover and make some real progress, and listen to music.

5:00 central: around this time i land in chicago. i feel all tingly because i love chicago, even though i’m only going to be there for an hour, in an airport. plan to wait a little over an hour to get on plane to LA.

5:30 central (approximately): i realize i left my book tucked into the seat pocket on the plane that has probably just left. fuck. i was halfway through it and it was really good. now i have to buy a new copy of that book on monday. luckily i also had a backup book, a collection of oscar wilde plays.

6:45 central: after being delayed about 20 extra minutes of wait time, we take off from o’hare. this flight is scheduled to take four and a quarter hours. i listen to music, watch the score with robert deniro and ed norton, and read the introduction to the new book, but don’t feel like reading anymore. the baby in the seat behind me screams for the whole last 20 minutes of the flight. i swear, this kid has a vendetta, because he KNOWS how he’s driving the whole back half of the plane crazy. this wasn’t just cute kid crying, this was screaming, bawling, terrible cries. very grating.

9:00 pacific (11 central): we land. we have to walk a hell of a long way through the rerouted LA airport to get to luggage. we get to the claim, and i swear to christ, an entire nursing home full of old people must be arriving in LA from a group trip to hawaii or something. they decide to look for their luggage right behind/around/in front of me, and they’re freaking out because their luggage isn’t there yet, or it went by and no one picked it up for them (it comes back around, you’d think they’d calm down. it’s a circle, people), or something. they’re all crotchety. it’s insane and driving me crazy. my luggage takes forever to come out, naturally.

9:45 pacific (11:45 central): i finally get out of there and to the shuttle service. i’m relieved, because i only wait about 5 minutes before one going to the USC area pulls up. me and a few others get in, and are ready to drive off. however, the very intelligent driver is having some issues with the people that prepaid. in what can only be described as a “fiasco”, he takes almost 20 minutes–while we all sit there crowded in the back of the van wanting very much to get home–to radio in about five numbers, checking each one twice, and having communication problems with the dispatcher. i wonder, “isn’t the glory of mobile communications that you can do it moving!? why can’t you do this while you’re driving us home. but no. we finally get going though and after a short freeway drive and dropping off about five other people, it’s my turn and i get out in front of my building. no tip for that guy.

10:30 pacific (12:30 central): i get into my apartment. it has taken me an entire 12 hours of a day to get from houston to LA, which would have only taken maybe 5 or 6 hours, tops, if i had a direct flight and someone to pick me up at the airport. but i’m not mad. just tired. so i’m gonna have to call it a day now.

well, call sunday a day, so technically, call yesterday a day. i’m just glad it’s behind me.

school tomorrow!? hot dog!