Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Happy anniversary, baby

Here's to a couple more years, at least.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007


Thanks to my friends Kim and Amy, I recently had a lovely vacation in Atlanta. Highlights included the Martin Luther King Jr. Center:

The Carter Presidential Library:

Zoo Atlanta:

And the Center for Puppetry Arts, where we saw "Beauty and the Beast" and got creeped out by this giant praying mantis puppet, which was eerily like a recurring nightmare I had as a child. Luckily the puppet did not spit poison like the bug in my dream did. In any case, it was safely behind a Plexiglas box.

We also drank some good coffee, ate some good food, sampled the nightlife, and threw a successful loftwarming party at Amy's new place:

And a lot of the weekend was spent like this: playing with Amy's cats, George and Jonah, and her dog, Ohren.

It was fun and relaxing and hot. The public transportation is totally ass-backwards, but I recommend Atlanta anyway.

For those of you who'd like to send and receive mail from random people around the world but don't want your address posted on the Internets, check out postcrossing. So far I've sent postcards to Portugal, Finland, South Korea and Germany. I'll let you know what treasures I receive.

Also on my mind right now
"I had a cold sore. I put some Carmex on it. Carmex is supposed to heal cold sores. … I don’t know if it does, but it does make them shiny and more noticeable."

--Mitch Hedberg

Sunday, June 3, 2007

Wild blue yonder

This was air show weekend at the local airport. I am media coordinator for the event, which means I get to wander around all day waiting for reporters or photographers to show up.

Our air show isn't a traditional air show, with stunt planes and flying acts set to music and all that, basically because we can't afford it. Ours is a "fly-in," meaning that pilots from around the area — Oklahoma City, Denver, Kansas City — fly in with their cool airplanes and then fly back home at the end of the day. The emphasis is on "warbirds," restored planes from World War II, mostly. The pilots then fly the planes around the airport periodically throughout the day, giving rides to people. The result is a lot less cheesy daredevil stuff and a lot more cool vintage planes.

I took a short ride this year, but not in a warbird. They had all left at the end of the day when I was talking to a local pilot and he offered to take me up. It was just a little Piper, not as cool as the T-28 I flew in last year:

But I was still happy for the ride. Herb, a fun old guy who helps organize the air show, hopped in the back seat. When we were airborne, the pilot offered to let me take the controls. I've never had much desire to do that, so I said no thanks. Herb poked me and said, "Just try it once." So I grabbed my little steering thing and took over, following the pilot's instructions on when to turn, etc.

As I was making the first turn, he said, "You will want to bring up the nose, though."

I said, "Oh, how do I do that?"



And so, we didn't crash. I made a big circle around the airport and didn't crash the plane. Herb later said I was a natural and asked me if I'd ever considered taking flying lessons. I haven't. And although I found this experience sort of cool, it was hardly the amazing rush that other people report feeling. The greatest part of it for me was that I felt significantly less nauseated when I was doing the steering.

The only other thing I brought home from the air show was a sunburn. Yes, I am stupid. I was wearing capri pants, so only the bottom six inches of my legs are beet-red, making this maybe the most embarrassing sunburn I've ever had. Guess I won't be wearing skirts this week. Also, my forehead is swollen, which reminds me of a sunburn I had when I was 13 and my mom told me I had cooked my brain. Maybe she was right; maybe that's why I forgot the sunscreen.