answers from the great beyond
on reading the chuang tzu: my problem with evangelical christians is that they're trying too hard to be like paul instead of trying to be like jesus. the two aren't mutually exclusive, but they've certainly got their own flavors.
the writing was on the wall: northwest airlines has stopped serving free alcohol on international flights. at least I can tell my grandkids I remember when.
noise-cancelling headphones: worth every penny. (except for that overpriced bose shit)
only one out of three airplane movies is decent. the others aren't a total loss as long as you can listen to music on your computer instead of the actual dialogue from the movie.
according to the map that they're projecting on the wall to show our plane's travel progress, there's a huge fucking crack in the ocean floor along the eastern side of japan. I don't need to understand plate tectonics to see why they have such brutal earthquakes.
my laptop is playing my music on shuffle and has been playing neil young, elliott smith, bob dylan, nick drake, ani difranco, castle oldchair, and made me realize that I'm a big fan of acoustic guitar. like, I knew this but I didn't realize the extent.
the aforementioned music makes even a lindsey lohan movie tolerable to watch.
they use tall, clear plastic pitchers to serve coffee on the airplane. they look curiously futuristic and out-of-place, reminding me of the blue milk pitcher used by aunt beru on tatooine in the original star wars. wait, I think that's the melatonin talking.
the sun never sets when you fly west. it's fucking creepy. suddenly, it's the next day and you wonder where the night went. sorta like a heavy night of drinking, and the jet lag bears an uncanny resemblance to a hangover.
jetlag makes me introspective (and swear-y). actually, I think the former is one of the reason I liked lost in translation so much. the whole mood and tone of the movie is like having jetlag. slightly detached and misty, with a healthy slug of suntory whiskey burning in your belly. everything seems off-kilter: tilted about 10 degrees off horizontal. it makes me contemplative and punchy at the same time. a not wholly unpleasant experience.
tbe clouds are fantastically beautiful at 38,000 feet. the ones below us are thickly white, with bluegrey shadows; burbling and rolling. the ones at our altitude are a flat, wispy crosshatch, seeming to define the outer shell of the atmosphere. I've definitely become more cloud-obsessed since I started skydiving.
the writing was on the wall: northwest airlines has stopped serving free alcohol on international flights. at least I can tell my grandkids I remember when.
noise-cancelling headphones: worth every penny. (except for that overpriced bose shit)
only one out of three airplane movies is decent. the others aren't a total loss as long as you can listen to music on your computer instead of the actual dialogue from the movie.
according to the map that they're projecting on the wall to show our plane's travel progress, there's a huge fucking crack in the ocean floor along the eastern side of japan. I don't need to understand plate tectonics to see why they have such brutal earthquakes.
my laptop is playing my music on shuffle and has been playing neil young, elliott smith, bob dylan, nick drake, ani difranco, castle oldchair, and made me realize that I'm a big fan of acoustic guitar. like, I knew this but I didn't realize the extent.
the aforementioned music makes even a lindsey lohan movie tolerable to watch.
they use tall, clear plastic pitchers to serve coffee on the airplane. they look curiously futuristic and out-of-place, reminding me of the blue milk pitcher used by aunt beru on tatooine in the original star wars. wait, I think that's the melatonin talking.
the sun never sets when you fly west. it's fucking creepy. suddenly, it's the next day and you wonder where the night went. sorta like a heavy night of drinking, and the jet lag bears an uncanny resemblance to a hangover.
jetlag makes me introspective (and swear-y). actually, I think the former is one of the reason I liked lost in translation so much. the whole mood and tone of the movie is like having jetlag. slightly detached and misty, with a healthy slug of suntory whiskey burning in your belly. everything seems off-kilter: tilted about 10 degrees off horizontal. it makes me contemplative and punchy at the same time. a not wholly unpleasant experience.
tbe clouds are fantastically beautiful at 38,000 feet. the ones below us are thickly white, with bluegrey shadows; burbling and rolling. the ones at our altitude are a flat, wispy crosshatch, seeming to define the outer shell of the atmosphere. I've definitely become more cloud-obsessed since I started skydiving.
random bits cobbled together by j-dub
2 Comments:
ah, very nice. i almost feel like i'm flying away, too.
muscle relaxers imitate that same jet lagged feeling if there's ever a time you're missing it
Post a Comment
<< Home