Holy shit! Jack Bauer, WTF are you going to do now?

Okay, I've never EVER seen more than the one premiere episode of 24.

But I've seen the past two nights.

Including tonight's.

Jeezus.

I wish I had a TIVO to see that all over again. That was really fucked up.

Jeezus.

Oh, dammit it's cold.

No, project_mayhem_, I don't want to hear how much of a spoiled, deep-South pussy I am. I LIKE IT THAT WAY. This morning I flew into Dallas on business. My first warning of impending frost was the layover in Houston. When I can see my breath, it's gonna be cold. Yeah, that's cold for me. So what?

Anyway, last night I was packing for this trip, getting all the warmer stuff in line (like I'm not well-insulated to start with), and I decide to print out the itenerary, get all my little ducks in a row. That's when I notice I'm flying into the wrong airport. Like many modern (read HUGE-ASS) cities, Dallas has the mega-hub of DFW, plus it has the quaint little jewel of Southwest Airlines, Love Field. Such a nice ring, eh? L*O*V*E Field. My office is literally three blocks from DFW. And where do you think the company agency booked me to fly? Yeah, that's right. L*O*V*E. I was counting on being early and all that bullshit, since my departure from NOLA was 5:35am (yikes, that sucked), and then I'd just pop right over to work. But no. I'm going to L*O*V*E. So I deal with it. I change the car reservation. Good thing I looked, since they booked at the opposite airport.

The itty-bitty regional jet lands at L*O*V*E. What do you think is on the ground? And the terminal? And every bloody thing in sight for that matter? Ice. Not pretty white snow. Freezing slippery-ass ice. When I got my car (a Kia Amanti that I'm actually liking but that's another story), the damned automobile has ice totally covering it. There were even icicles hanging off the bumpers and rearview mirrors. You northerners (and poor Southern transplants), I don't know how you deal with this crap. It took me an hour-and-a-half to drive the fifteen miles to the office, because every one of these sap-ass Texans can't drive worth a shit anyway, so you know how utterly wonderful they are ON ICE.

Please save the ice for my cocktail.

Shit. There are snow flurries outside. Damned cold.

So here I am, on the road again. I don't know how long this is going to last. I mean, I know I'll be here this week, but I don't know if I'm going to do some more trips like this. There are roughly a thousand or so servers that have to be classified and assessed in this project. Basically, I'm part of the team that's designing the backup solutions for the smaller parts of this client's divisions. That means the little stuff I get to travel to. The locations don't exactly suck. Augusta, GA. Pacoima, Long Beach, and Valencia, CA. Boston, MA. Charlotte, NC. There are some boonies sites, too, though. Where is Rockford, IL, anyway? Milwaukee's on the list, but I don't think I'll get to go. Too bad, cause I could go for some fresh High Life, German brats, and a massive feast of encased meat products.

I may not travel at all, but the likelihood is there. Once it's done, I'll do it all remotely from home, with maybe one or two big projects a year that require my austere presence. At least that's what the bill of sale is. The folks on the team are nice guys, a lot like me, all with war wounds from working for technical outsourcers. I was terribly please to hear they all DRINK, including one guy who's fave drink is Red Bull and...Jager? New one on me. Sounds a bit much and I fucking love Jager. L*O*V*E.

While I'm here, I plan on at least one outing each to:

-Bass Pro Shops. Gotta love a place with largemouth bass in a huge-ass fishtank. I'll wander through the fly-fishing counters, with big dreamy eyes, wishing I had more disposable income to replace all the fishing rods lost to Katrina. Ironic that I lose a lifetime of fishing equipment to...water.

-The Flying Saucer. A big beer bar on Lower Greenville where I watched the Dallas Stars win the Cup a few years ago.Huge selection and a cast of characters much like Decatur. Okay, not that good a crowd.

-Fogo de Chão. The Brazilian churrascaria that leaves deep scorch-marks on your meat-loving soul. Think you've been to the altar of meat? Reconsider. This place has no menu, just a little disk on the table. Green, more meat. Red, no more meat. There is a salad bar for decoration, of course, although it does have some pretty amazing selections of fresh greens and house-cured prosciutto (or whatever the equivalent is in Brazil) and salame. Awesome. I need to start fasting now if I'm going to eat there on Thursday.

I was going take it easy tonight, right after a quick trip to Target to get laces for my shoes. However, I got lost. When I say lost, I should qualify. I was like, "Where the hell am I?" lost. I remember seeing Texas Stadium on the way to work, so I thought I was on the right path, but really I was on a different road and heading in the wrong direction, so when I hit a stoplight on what I thought was the freeway...well, I got a little turned around I guess. For an hour. And a half. Or so. With my once-hot sandwich on the seat next to me.

At least I managed to get the hotel booking right: king suite with a Jacuzzi tub the size of a Buick.