Flying Home
Jan. 19th, 2007 05:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nolapenguinAnd so goes the final day in Dallas. I've been at the airport since 1:30 because I'm a loser that has nothing better to do than sit around an airport waiting five hours for my flight. I'm fortunate enough to have a really cool mini-cubicle set up at the gate (thank you, Continental). A fond thanks also goes to the company that has unknowingly supplied my laptop with a permanent mobile Verizon wireless card. Much obliged, you jerks.
While the cold was maddening at times, the temps rose above freezing, and then rains commenced. I'm terribly glad I won't be here for the weekend, as more of this icy madness is on tap for the weekend. Still, I'm at a loss for how one deals with the ice. Nasty stuff. I'll take my tradeoff of summer heat any day.
You know, I didn't even talk about last weekend. You probably don't know this, but my anniversary was last week. Fifteen years of Mrs. Penguin putting up with my crap. We tossed back and forth what we were going to do. The traditional and modern gifts for the fifteen anniversary are somewhat less than romantic: crystal and watches. Boring. So we decided to make a real night of it. I gave Tracey tickets to G.Love for Christmas, a show at HoB that was supposed to start at nine Saturday night. Trouble was, the Saints game was on at 7. A reprieve was granted, however, as they (well, G.Love really, since he's from Philly) pushed back his set to 11:45. So we went down the street with a bunch of friends to watch the game. The bar was packed. Deuce's girlfriend was there. At least she claimed she was. Who knows how many he might have. You know the outcome of the game of course. SAINTS WIN!
By that point, all hell had broken loose across the city. We called a cab twenty minutes before the end of the game and kept the cabbie fed until we left. Tipped the hell out of him, too. By the time we got to the Quarter, we had loads of time to kill, so we wondered around for a couple of drinks. The atmosphere was electric. Spillout from the game was crazy. People screaming and yelling "Saints! Saints! Saints!" Black and gold was everywhere. We were incredibly gracious to some Eagles fans we found, bought them a drink, lavished affection for Donovan McNabb and the play of the team in the end of the season. And we drank and drank and drank. At the show, a totally packed room, the crowd went wild. G put on a great show. Not as good as many of the sets I've seen at Jazzfest, but great just the same. In all, the night was spectacular.
Then this week, the cold five days of ice. But you've heard enough of my crying over spilt snow. Never did get to my three places. Now it's over. I'm flying home to hug my fam. Tracey phoned me a while ago to tell me I got a package in the mail. I suspect it's my little secret purchase: a Saints jersey. I didn't actually buy it, as it was procured through a gift certificate I received last year for working a project. Wish I could get more of those. The gift certificates, not the jersey. Well, no, I'd take more of those, too, preferably one with "Penguin" on the back.
Man, this terminal stinks. There's a greasy spoon airport grille about fifty feet away that has little or no hood over the griddle, so every slab of pseudo-burger they burn over there smells up the whole room. Stink, stank, stunk. And then there's the businessmen. You know, I find that businessmen are the dorkiest guys on the planet. They wear their little bluetooth earpieces and walk around in circles, talking loud enough for every ear in the room to hear, spewing business-babble for all. I don't see that in the ladies. So much more professional they are, discreet speaking at a volume respectable to boardrooms and contract closings. However, these slightly past baby-boomer vacation women who loudly cackle while waiting to board might be slightly worse than the bluetooth boobs. But not by much.
I'm just aimlessly meandering now.
More later, but I'll leave you with this. What's wrong with this picture?
Three quatloos to the first correct answer.
While the cold was maddening at times, the temps rose above freezing, and then rains commenced. I'm terribly glad I won't be here for the weekend, as more of this icy madness is on tap for the weekend. Still, I'm at a loss for how one deals with the ice. Nasty stuff. I'll take my tradeoff of summer heat any day.
You know, I didn't even talk about last weekend. You probably don't know this, but my anniversary was last week. Fifteen years of Mrs. Penguin putting up with my crap. We tossed back and forth what we were going to do. The traditional and modern gifts for the fifteen anniversary are somewhat less than romantic: crystal and watches. Boring. So we decided to make a real night of it. I gave Tracey tickets to G.Love for Christmas, a show at HoB that was supposed to start at nine Saturday night. Trouble was, the Saints game was on at 7. A reprieve was granted, however, as they (well, G.Love really, since he's from Philly) pushed back his set to 11:45. So we went down the street with a bunch of friends to watch the game. The bar was packed. Deuce's girlfriend was there. At least she claimed she was. Who knows how many he might have. You know the outcome of the game of course. SAINTS WIN!
By that point, all hell had broken loose across the city. We called a cab twenty minutes before the end of the game and kept the cabbie fed until we left. Tipped the hell out of him, too. By the time we got to the Quarter, we had loads of time to kill, so we wondered around for a couple of drinks. The atmosphere was electric. Spillout from the game was crazy. People screaming and yelling "Saints! Saints! Saints!" Black and gold was everywhere. We were incredibly gracious to some Eagles fans we found, bought them a drink, lavished affection for Donovan McNabb and the play of the team in the end of the season. And we drank and drank and drank. At the show, a totally packed room, the crowd went wild. G put on a great show. Not as good as many of the sets I've seen at Jazzfest, but great just the same. In all, the night was spectacular.
Then this week, the cold five days of ice. But you've heard enough of my crying over spilt snow. Never did get to my three places. Now it's over. I'm flying home to hug my fam. Tracey phoned me a while ago to tell me I got a package in the mail. I suspect it's my little secret purchase: a Saints jersey. I didn't actually buy it, as it was procured through a gift certificate I received last year for working a project. Wish I could get more of those. The gift certificates, not the jersey. Well, no, I'd take more of those, too, preferably one with "Penguin" on the back.
Man, this terminal stinks. There's a greasy spoon airport grille about fifty feet away that has little or no hood over the griddle, so every slab of pseudo-burger they burn over there smells up the whole room. Stink, stank, stunk. And then there's the businessmen. You know, I find that businessmen are the dorkiest guys on the planet. They wear their little bluetooth earpieces and walk around in circles, talking loud enough for every ear in the room to hear, spewing business-babble for all. I don't see that in the ladies. So much more professional they are, discreet speaking at a volume respectable to boardrooms and contract closings. However, these slightly past baby-boomer vacation women who loudly cackle while waiting to board might be slightly worse than the bluetooth boobs. But not by much.
I'm just aimlessly meandering now.
More later, but I'll leave you with this. What's wrong with this picture?
Three quatloos to the first correct answer.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-01-19 11:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-19 11:44 pm (UTC)Did you see the Predators are the number one team in the NHL right now? Crazy.
I'm a dork and forgot to log in. :P:P:P:
Date: 2007-01-20 02:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-20 05:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-20 01:55 am (UTC)shouldn't there be a comma after, "Means" if they are going to use quotes. and if they are going to use quotes why not again in the second part, "Provide a Fresh Towel"??? pretty green for texans. and by green I mean save money not earth conscious.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-20 06:11 am (UTC)The guy hung the towel on his erect schlong and said, "Has anyone seen my towel?"
Now, if you are Britney Spears, "you" can put quotes "on" anything.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-20 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-20 04:38 am (UTC)Or spell?
Or that poor, poor lost semi-colon, adrift in a sentence where it has no place?
It's almost enough to make you leave your towel hanging on the floor, really. If you can get that to work.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-20 05:17 am (UTC)And when they get the first word wrong, I quit.
P.S. I do hope that when you're flying Southwest, you keep an eye out for my brother. If you ever happen to have him on your flight, tell him you're my friend, and he will get you hammered. For free.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-20 05:19 am (UTC)