Near-Death by DELTA.
Just landed in Tampa to surprise my little brother for his 18th birthday, and was thoroughly convinced for about an hour and a half, that -- grand-ass miracle pending -- I was going to plummet to my death in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. The effort I made sneaking in my second Personal Item would have simply washed away in carefully airbagged waste. Sweet tragedy!
I did not die, however [to my lovely Stalker's chagrin] and am presently waiting for good old Polish Mom to pick me up from the Delta terminal so we can doubly confuse and delight the younger offspring in the family. I can't wait to see him, the rest of my family, and take a much needed break from all of the newly bicoastal traveling insanity... plus my suddenly booming little online business (thank goodness for not having to work in a bar). There's no better place to escape from the world (read: perpetual and near-ineludable electronic client communication) than a cruise ship. I'm about to float away for three days via forced relaxation and a plethora of doubly charged Mojitos.
And -- for goodness sake -- do some reading. I re-started Look Homeward, Angel (Thomas Wolfe) on the [first] plane today [before] a minor panic attack [via] half-window falling OUT of the plane, and I'm feeling a creative recharge starting. Excited for rest, and for September in Los Angeles. If I can survive another Delta-inspired fiasco... is the economy really that bad?
-- Ashley Avis