Where in the hell have you been?

On the Gulf Coast....and in a state of laziness. Meh, it's fall and I feel my energy level dropping due to the decreasing daylight.

What's that in the picture there? Why, it's a reason I hate Delta Airlines and why I hate Atlanta's airport. There are five airline tickets in that pic, folks. All for one day.

When I flew to the Gulf Coast for work last week I had to make connections in Atlanta both on the way down and on the way back. Of four flights taken on the trip, all were late. That's because Atlanta is the black hole of airports.

On the way down, I checked in for my 7:15am flight at 6am. Already it told me my 10:30am flight out of Atlanta would be delayed. Fantastic. When I arrived in Atlanta, my flight was delayed further, then canceled, then I was booked on another one but told to try for an earlier one on standby, then when I tried for that they told me another earlier and previously canceled one was not in fact canceled, so I tried for that one, but was told by someone else it was canceled - so I called Delta from the airport, they got confused and then decided that the canceled flight was indeed taking off. That photo above is the mess of tickets and rebooking papers I had been given from Delta in a matter of 20 minutes.

So I waited, and the flight did end up existing. I was happy because it was supposed to get me on the ground in Gulfport about 30 minutes sooner than the original delay said. Hooray! But I hooray'd too soon. Once I got on the plane, we then sat on the runway for another HOUR. Thanks, Atlanta!

On the way home, my flight out of Gulfport was delayed. When we arrived in Atlanta, I had ten minutes to make my connection. And of course you know where it was. Ten miles away from the gate we had landed at. The only consolation I received from the AirTran rep who greeted our late flight with connection information (I flew AirTran home, Delta on the way down) was a, "Oh man, you'd better hurry."

And so I ran across two entire terminals. It was just like a movie, me running full speed carrying two bags, dodging in and out of people's ways.

I arrive at gate D2 with barely any time to spare. The gate sign says the flight is still on time, but there's no one in the gate area, so I ask the oblivious gate attendants.

"Oh man - am I too late to make the Baltimore flight?"

They don't even look up at me when replying, "Oh, the Baltimore flight - that one got moved to a different gate."

And that gate of course is forever away. I turned around, yelled, "SHIT!" (which got some laughs from the few people still sitting there) and ran again.

I arrived at the final gate to find a huge crowd of people. Our flight out had not boarded yet because our flight attendants weren't there yet either. So we waited. 1.5 hours later, we finally leave.

Thanks, Atlanta.

Anyway, to cheer up this disgruntled post, let's look through some photos I took on my camera phone.

That's some Caesar salad I saw in my local Giant grocery store whose brand name cracked me up. I am easily amused.

People stared at me when I took the picture. They obviously don't appreciate the humor.







And now look at that picture of a GIANT fish head I saw in a canal on the beach in Gulfport, Miss. What ate it? I'm guessing the four foot alligator I saw in the canal just up from it. Seriously, I saw an alligator in the wild. On the beach. It was pretty damn cool.

The fish head doesn't look that huge in this photo, but I assure you - it was. It had to be the size of a bowling ball, if not slightly larger. Had it not be a genuine gross nasty carcass of a dead fish head, it would've made a great puppet.



I'll keep it up with the "OMG POST PHOTOZ OF MY CAT!!11!" trend. This is Tuesday using her powers of cuteness to get whatever she wants. Which in this photo is her own pillow and blanket. We are powerless against her will.

Had she been with me in Mississippi, I'm sure she would've requested the giant nasty fish head.






And finally, because Fenway Park is awesome, here's one view from within the park.

Alanis Morissette

Sometimes I remember a song I once really loved and so I'll look it up, download it and play it to death once more.

Last week it was the song "Unsent" by Alanis Morissette. I love that song and hearing it again made me happy. Until it got to the end and the song was ruined by Alanis trying to play the harmonica.

I was mad because it made me remember how many songs of Alanis I've enjoyed until she starts "playing" the harmonica. Let's be honest, though, she can't play the harmonica. She basically just breathes in and out at full capacity and hits whatever notes her giant mouth is wrapped around at the moment. It always sounds like crap.

So I sat there thinking for a moment about how much she sucks at the harmonica. And then I thought, "Man, I wish I could time travel, because I'd go back to the exact moment she first picked up a harmonica and I'd slap it out of her hands and yell, 'NO!'"

Of course then I thought more on that. "Wait a minute...I think about having the ability to time travel and that's the first thing I'd do? I'd go slap a harmonica out of Alanis Morissette's hand?"

So then I figured that all the good stuff about time travel was just assumed. You know, of course I would've already gone back and knocked off Hitler and done many other good deeds. The Alanis Harmonica Slapping would just be some more icing on the cake of my time travel adventures. It'd be my Time Travel Adventures "jump the shark" moment, but it would so be worth it.

Think of it as some sort of f*cked up episode of "Quantum Leap." Except that I wouldn't need much time or Al to figure out what my mission was once I realized I was in front of Alanis Morissette and a new harmonica. I'd appear, slap it away, and disappear. Alanis would then be amazed that some random ghost/person appeared and then write a song about it...which she would then not ruin with a harmonica.

And then everything in the universe would be A-Okay. Roll credits.

Why yes, I do have some spare time on my hands. Why do you ask?

The Ordained and the One True Ring

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you my wife - now an ordained minister! Woo! There she is in her robed glory with her dad.

The ordination service was Sunday up in Boston and it was beautiful. I cried through almost the whole thing. She's worked extremely hard for this day and all were happy to be there for this big step. Nothing like having a "the" and "Rev." before your name. :)

And then the rest of the weekend was really fun, too. It was like a family reunion. We ate lots of good food, saw some improv, wandered Boston as a tourist and more. It's always interesting to see a city as a tourist after having lived there for several years. I got to see some parts I never did while living there.

The weekend also boasted another giant highlight. What's that on my finger there in that photo? Why yes - it is an authentic 2004 Boston Red Sox World Series Championship Ring. And it's on my hand. A championship ring. From the 2004 Red Sox. On my hand.

How'd I swing that? Well my brother and I toured Fenway Park on Saturday afternoon. I've been to a couple games there before but have never really wandered the entire park. The tour is awesome and I would recommend it to any sports fan - whether you love baseball or the Sox or not. We got to sit in the Green Monster seats, then down right on the field.

The ring belonged to one of the tour guides/usher. You could tell he'd worked at Fenway for years and years. And after my brother asked him nicely, the usher let me put it on for a photo, so long as I promised to not show it to any other tour members lest he be pestered for the next hour to let other people wear it.

Man, the thing is HUGE. Weighs about 40lbs and is encrusted with jewels. I probably could've worn it as a bracelet, it was so big.

And so that was the #2 highlight of the weekend after my loving wife's awesome ordination. Super awesome. Amy is ordained, I wore a Sox ring, the Yanks get knocked out of the playoffs and the Steelers lost again (now 1 - 3, ha!). Most excellent!

Haircuts

It's always fun to have this style of conversation on the day after you get a haircut.

Coworker: Hey, did you get a haircut?
Me: Yes I did.
Coworker: Huh. *walks away*

Look, folks, if you think my haircut/hairstyle sucks, just don't even comment on it. I understand the whole "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" phrase - but don't even start the conversation if that's the exit you're going to use when I back-up the extreme obviousness of my recent haircut with a "Yes I did."

That is all.