blind people are cool
2001.10.28 15.42
 Visit MirrorProject.com to see pictures of people taking a picture of themself in the mirror. I have a mirror inside a bicycle tire that I should carry around with me, along with my camera. Excellent meeting possibilities abound. Yeah, I know, this caption isn't funny. Try squinting your eyes, that usually makes what I write seem funnier. If that doesn't work, go drink a six-pack of Budweiser and then come back and read this. See? Instant funny. |
I'm in Atlanta on my twice weekly flight layover. Chick with a walking stick went by me just now. She avoided hitting anyone and was walking in a straight line down the hall way. How do they do that? More importantly, how can *I* do that? Don't tell me I have to go blind first. I've been working on going blind since I was in the 6th grade, and so far it doesn't seem to be working.
Back in my original Checkout position from last weekend. I am going to stop typing my journal for 60 seconds and count the number of cuties that walk by. Done. Total: Four. That's pretty good. Of course the all-time record was the weekend I spent at Baylor University. I swear, I didn't see one unattractive girl the whole time I was there. Why I chose to go to University of Houston is beyond me. That place sucked. The attraction ratio there was terrible. Some girl who looked like a cross between Tasha Yar (from Star Trek: The Next Generation) and Roseanne (from Roseanne, durh) and this ''very nice girl'' (that I wasn't attracted to but was friends with) were the only girls to show an interest in me. I have to attribute that dry spell to my terrible complexion at the time. I knew that job grilling burgers at a fast food joint was a bad idea, but nooooo, I still did it. Bleah. Uh oh... there goes another one. Hmmm. Mmmmm. [trust me, she's cute].
 Taking a break from fighting evil, law enforcement officer Frank Johnson (left) and his partner Jake Feldman (right) laugh out loud upon realizing that the pixel bubble floating in front of Sandra Bernerman (center) could not be removed. ''I'll be damned if I've ever seen one of them pixel bubble things in real life, you know, outside of that show, you know, that bad-boys bad-boys show or whatever it's called?'' remarked officer Johnson. ''It's called 'Cops', ya big doofus,'' asserted officer Feldman. |
I'll stop now before this journal becomes the Mark Shields Super Oggler page. Oh. Right. Too late.
don't you hate it when
2001.10.26 15.43
I'm single. I've been single for nearly a year. Yes, I've dated to a very minor degree this past year, but nothing serious. Right now I'm in a dating chasm. I am not looking to get out of it, but being in the chasm is a drag. The upside is I save lots of money and I haven't had a disagreement with anyone for months. Well, I almost had one with the chick I was dating last. You know things aren't going to last when you say her name wrong. It was a hard name to start off with, okay? Adriana was her name, but I accidentally called her Andrea -- once -- during a Guy Lapse. If you're a guy, you know what The Guy Lapse is. You know you know something, but you just can't recall it correctly. All of those sports trivia tidbits and alternate routes to Astroworld stored in my brain sometimes cloud things up. Of course, she was pissed at me. I tried to mention the guy lapse, but the Harris County Order of the Sacred Y Chromosome has sworn us all to secrecy. Instead, I told her my alzheimers was flaring up again. She didn't buy it.There is a very bad show on HBO called ''The Mind of a Married Man'' and it's all about this middle aged guy who is the biggest jerk on the earth to his wife. He lies to her on a regular basis. He doesn't cheat, but I have the feeling the entire premise of this show is about a combination of that temptation and big giant lies. It's like ''Sex In The City'' only without the sex and cheating. They left the lying in. I guess that's good if you like that kind of suspense. I prefer the suspense where you know you have to get the DeLorean up to 88 MPH and hit the wire across the clock tower at exactly 10:04 PM on November 12th, 1955 so you can go back to 1985 and make out with your girlfriend Jennifer again. Or something like that. I may still watch this show, however, because they throw in gratuitous nudity and they get to cuss. Nothing beats gratuitous nudity (except maybe the unbearable thought of my mom participating in gratuitous nudity). Eek.
They should have a test they give everyone in the U.S. about whether or not sending your best friend a letter sprinkled with baby powder is funny or not. We could round up all of the people who fail the test and put them in their own town: Stupidville. They would be barred from travel outside the Stupidville city limits, except in cases of dire emergency or when medical attention is needed. Trust me, you don't want open heart surgery at the Lady of Our Bleeding Big Toe Stupidville Hospital. If you need a bandaid to cover that thumb you broke while shadow boxing yourself, or if you need an eyepatch to hide the fact you hide the fact that you lost out on a game of Catch The Flying Fork, the Stupidville Hospital is the place to go.
This weekend and next weekend will stink because AirTran changed my flight departure time on Sunday (as I've mentioned before). I will be in town for 37 hours. I won't be sleeping on Saturday night because there is no way I will finish all the things I have to do. If you are reading this and it is the middle of the night on Sunday, October 28th, give me a call. I'm awake. I get the number 37 because daylight savings time goes away that evening, blessing me with an extra hour. I always wondered if clubs close at 2 AM on those nights, or do they stay open because the time changes at 1:59 A.M. and goes back to 1:00 AM again? There used to be a free time service in Houston. I still remember the number. 713-844-7171. They changed it to 713-222-7171 in the late 70's. I called up at 2 AM exactly when the time was changing one year, and the automated recording was in a funk and giving out two times at once. For some reason I thought this meant that all clocks on the earth were also having a hard time figuring out what time it was. ''I'm a clock, I'm so confused.'' Hmmm. Maybe I shouldn't be sharing this. I don't want to get my ass thrown into Stupidville based on a past infraction.
For the record, I am Batman. Deal with it.
q to the quizzo
2001.10.23 15.44
Exhausted right now. Took a night out with my Philly friends and had a great time with Kurt Cobain and cannibal pandas. You had to be there.
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the checkout
2001.10.21 15.45
I am sitting in a row of chairs that face the main terminal C hallway drag here in Atlanta. I am playing a game that Jerald, Nathan and I discovered while attending Microsoft Tech Ed in Florida last year: If you try to make eye contact with every attractive person that walks by, you will eventually catch someone checking you out. You have to be really fast about this because another person's checkout can sometimes only take a second. The good kind of checkout happens when you catch an attractive person checking you out and they suddenly dart their eyes away, shyly pretending as if they weren't really checking you out. The really good kind of checkout happens when you both make eye contact during the checkout and it holds for an extended period of time. Usually a smile is exchanged. Some lucky folks will even get an inaudible 'hi' if your cards are right.There is another side of the checkout, of course. While searching passers by to see if they are checking you out, they might wind up catching you looking at them and mistakenly think that you were checking them out. This can be good, bad or really bad. It's good if any of the two aforementioned first paragraph checkout scenarios occur. It's bad if that person makes a grimace or a general ''Eeeew!'' face upon noticing you were looking at them and possibly checking them out. It's really bad if that person actually vocalizes their disgust. Something cold and cutting like ''Don't look at me!'' or ''Take a picture, it'll last longer!'' or ''Hey I have a restraining order!'' are particularly painful pills to swallow.
There is one last level of the checkout game worth mentioning. Life is hell if you should accidentally check out someone who is butt dog ugly and they end up showing attraction to you. It is best to speak with a lisp and tilt your head to the side, possibly impersonating Forrest Gump or that guy from Swingblade if you are confronted and asked to profess your undying love to the misinformed horsefaced person. Beware of spouses who are on the lookout for people like me playing the checkout game. They have nasty glances and lots of teeth gritting techniques that are designed to convey the message of, ''Back off! This one's mine, sucka!'' Maybe this game would be a lot less stressful if I did it with a hidden camera or something.
I didn't get any sleep on the plane even though I was the only person in my row. I believe I did fall asleep briefly but I woke up with both arms in full-on painful-tingly asleep mode. That sucked. I am surprised that I haven't had to have any limbs removed as my arms have gone to sleep so many times in my life. What exactly lets my arm hold on to dear life without any blood flowing through it for hours on end? How can I get that same trick to happen should my entire body accidentally freeze up or lose all my blood or undergo some other catastrophic failure? I'll pay extra for that.
Been up over 24 hours. Pulled an all-nighter last night to finish my expense report as well as completing end of vacation activities. Almost started to feel tears well up as I shut the front door, but then I realized an eyelash had gotten stuck in my eyeball. Stupid eyelashes.
I've been dreaming recently that I am back in high school. Apparently I made a bet with someone a few dreams back that I could repeat getting straight A's my senior year, only with harder classes. I am not sure how long I have been attending high school while I sleep. This might have been going on for the last two years (or so it seems). I definitely know this is a recurring theme and that I don't seem to be too put out about having to spend a year doing something that doesn't count for jack. As a matter of fact, I recall while dreaming on Saturday morning that I was such a bad ass by being able to hold down a full time job AND attend high school. They must be piping in drugs at my dreamland high school. What I can't figure out is how come I haven't picked up a high school girlfriend while I'm there. I think it may have to do with the fact that I can fly while I'm there. I've been kind of keeping that trick a secret from the senior class. Everytime I do it (fly) I don't realize that this is something impossible. I have a long history of flying dreams. The best kind happen when you realize you're dreaming and you can take lucid control. While flying around is a really cool thing, I was never able to get lucky with any dreamland girls. Something would always happen to put a stop to the action. In one dream, I was on a covered chuck wagon with five gorgeous girls. I thought this was going to be the dream to end all dreams until all five girls suddenly came down with the flu and couldn't stop blowing their noses. Niiiice.
The aforementioned company meeting was not as bad I'd thought. All eServices companies are experiencing mucho pain as they adapt to the changing market. I have some project ideas that I think will fly if we can sell it to the right people. Of course these are top secret and only the wise men of our account services practice can pry it out of me. And speaking of the oh so clever and resourceful account services gods, the person who does my flight itineraries is recused of all further blame for the sudden change in flight times earlier this month. The email detailing the changes was actually sent, but the mail server I use had a catastrophic failure the same day the mail was sent. I hereby offer a grande size serving of overpriced Starbucks coffee in order to make amends for my error. Either that, or a free spanking. Take your pick.
Just for clarification, I'll be the one giving the spanking, you dirty monkeys.
There is much drama at MarkWahlberg.com as of late. Trolls have been rearing their heads on our message board and posting nasty and really stupid messages. Some people on there have turned out to be the most trite and petty rumor mongers that I've ever met. However, 99.9% of everyone else rocks the house. Mark's personal assistant Eric is a frequent visitor, although he now has his own site. Have you ever seen ''Being John Malkovich'' ... the scene where John Cusack is performing a rather dirty puppet play while this father and his daughter watch. The father is offended by the obscene puppet play and punches John Cusack. That guy is Eric, also known as E-Factor. He has a few cameos in Rock Star, as well as a cameo in the upcoming ''Truth About Charlie'' feature starring Mark and directed by Jonathan (''Silence of the Lambs'') Demme. I believe he'll be playing a french revolutionary. It's all about the beret.
I have come up with an idea for a short 60 minute feature that I am going to try to film in Philly over the next month or so. I am finally going to put my Digital 8 camera to good use. Remember how I said I was going to write a new article on my site at least once a week? I think I may stand down on that threat. Maybe later. I'll work on my three minute comedy routine first. New York is only 70 minutes away and I might as well take a stab at getting discovered and joining the cast of Saturday Night Live. It will be a hard life, of course, and I will have to make new friends once I join Saturday Night Live. But I will endure and of course, I will not forget my friends. Especially if they give me really cool presents this Christmas. Come on, don't you want to be friends with a celebrity? How about if I let you ride the Batmobile?
Need to get on a serious starvation diet regiment soon. I feel puffy, and again, this is not the Shawn Combs kind of puffy. Exercise sucks.
Laurita, I think you should go with the piercing. You can always remove it if you want. Although a nice big tattoo on your back that says, ''Mark Shields: Super Genius'' will also garner brownie points as well as the aforementioned free ride in the batmobile. I'll even throw in a trip around the block in the DeLorean. Hey, let's make it more fun. How about if we chase each other in the two cars? Who wouldn't want to see that in the middle of the mall parking lot at 4 AM in the morning? Oh, did I mention we had to be naked?
Okay, I'm probably scaring her off now. More later. I am going to grab a couple of Zzzzs before they load my ass onto the plane. Somehow I got business class (AKA first class) again. What did I do to deserve this kind of treatment? Someone must want me to retract the AirTran sucks motif that recurs in this log. Okay, I may do that. Keep checking back. Keeping check front, too, while you're at it.
ouch. quit it.
2001.10.15 15.46
What with all this crazy anthrax stuff going on, I decided to look up info on the disease and treatments available. There is a vaccine available but only for the military. No civilians. Why? Ask BioPort. They are a small, privately held company that seem to be the only place on earth where the vaccine is made. If I were them, I'd reconsider my marketing approach. They are supposedly preparing a facility for FDA approval so they can begin to make more of the vaccine, but when that will happen does not appear to be on the immediate horizon. Doesn't it seem strange that they only make tiny quantities? Is it hard to make? Maybe they're just not motivated to make a lot of it. ''We're busy watching TV and making cupcakes. We'll make more anthrax vaccine tomorrow, okay?'' Send BioPort your thoughts about making the vaccine available for the general public. They don't have a waiting list. They straight up tell you they won't take your name. Isn't that friendly? Geez. If you want to go the other direction, our military has one of the goofiest flash sites ever created giving you all the goods on anthrax and what it can do for (and to) you. You'd figure if they could spend that much time and money on a cheesy 1998-quality flash piece that they could at least apply decent pressure on BioPort to make more vaccine. Do you see what happens when I don't run things? [sigh]There is a company meeting tomorrow and all signs point to bad news. I have heard from many people about what we might possibly be facing. Pay cuts? No more 401K matching? Shorter bathroom breaks? Who knows. One thing is for sure: it apparently won't be a morale booster. Maybe if they slipped us all some Ecstacy before they told us, we'd take it better. ''Dude, I don't know what the HR department put in my Sprite, but I'm liking it! Hey, did they just say we don't have health insurance anymore? Wow! Kick ass! Let's dance!''
This is definitely not the time to be mailing anybody any talcum powder samples.
don't visit the malls on 10/31
2001.10.12 15.48
The band Anthrax was quoted today as saying, ''Yeah, I guess our band name isn't so cool right now.'' Duh! The band Poison was unavailable for comment.Back in a plane making my weakly weekly update. On vacation all next week. Getting renovations finished up. Once things are semi-back to normal, party at my house! My roommate and I earlier this week discussed my inability to follow through with fixing holes in the wall. I am not sure why I dread doing sheet rock repair. I think it might have to do with the little accident I had in 1996 when my pipes froze and broke, destroying the ceiling in two rooms. That sucked. I have a video I made while I was in a crazed state. Look for a link to that shortly. Not much funny I can say about sheet rock, except maybe I don't understand why they call it that. Where is the rock? It's made out of chalk or something as far as I can tell. It's kind of creepy that this flimsy stuff is all that separates me from weirdos in the next room. It's been a few weeks since I was jarred from sleep by the sounds of love coming from the next room. One night this really vocal couple in the room next to me got so into it that they were banging their bed against the wall. I tried to syncopate by tapping an additional backbeat to their rhythm. After I heard a muffled, ''what the hell is that?' on the other side of the sheet rock, their boot knocking subsided and I was able to sleep again.
More later. Crick in neck is affecting my ability to be funny. Bleah.
news flash
2001.10.08 0.00
AirTran still sucks.Been staying in the jacquzzi suite at the Best Western. The water is only as hot as you can get it from the tap. The jacquzzi doesn't heat the water for you. No bath salts accompanied the jacquzzi, but oddly enough a bar of soup was always placed there (as if I was gonna take a bath in that thing -- ha). Lots of mirrors on all the walls in case you're getting your groove on with your most special friend. Needless to say, I tried to avoid looking into the mirrors. One naked me is enough.
The jets on the jacquzzi were lame. When I finally go out and buy a hot tub I'm gonna have to sample several brands before making a decision. When the tub drained you could hear this giant sucking noise from the floor drain. I covered up the drain to stop the noise but another drain (the bathroom sink) started up with the same noise. Pretty soon I had every drain blocked. I am 100% positive I then heard the people in the room next to me say something like, ''Why the hell is our toilet making that sucking sound?''
Air Tran sucks. The changed all flight schedules after October 1st. Nobody ever told me, however. My flight plan guru in Houston never bothered to email me the updates. If he or she did, I never got it. See how I cleverly disguise the fact that I am complaining about a particular person. Maybe I can blame email on this, but I doubt it since I have been getting every CNN BREAKING NEWS email with startling speed for months. When I arrived at the Philadelphia airport on Friday anticipating my 7:05 PM departure, I was very depressed to find out that my flight had left at 4. The idiot at the gate was like, ''Dude, we don't have any more flights for today.'' I was like, ''Dude, I was on a 7:15 PM flight last week. What happened to it.'' He was all, ''Dude, I dunno.'' And I'm all, ''Well, find out then!'' And he's all, ''Okay.'' Bastard! I called up the travel agency and found out things were even worse: my normal return flight on Sunday, which was originally scheduled for 3:45 PM, was now set for an unappeasing 10 AM departure... in the morning!!1 What's up with that? I booked myself in the airport Marriot overnight where I'd have to wait until the next flight at 6:35 AM. The Marriot, by the way, has the worst excuse for high speed internet access. STSN, I believe, is the name of the company. This garbage DSL modem never gave me an IP so I ended up spending 75 cents on a local phone call to dial into AOL. Bleah.
I woke up at 4 in the morning so I could check in early. Guess what? Nobody was at the Air Tran counter FOR HOURS! This enormous line of 400 people formed behind me until they started issuing tickets at around 5:45 AM. The dork-knob gate people spent way too much time setting up these useless carry-on restriction signs. I finally checked in by 6:40 AM (they held the plane). Next up, the security gate guards were in a bad mood. I had to freaking put my freaking loose change from my pocket into a freaking blue plastic box and run it through the freaking x-ray. What were they expecting to see? Hidden knives inside my quarters and nickels? Of course they made me go to a table to have my bag searched, again. I suspect because I am male traveling solo that I am constantly getting my bag searched. I started to open up my bag and take out one or two things. And then this happens:
Low Paid Security Chick: ''Can I ask what you think you're doing?''
Me: ''Huh? I'm opening my bag so you can search it.''
Security Chick: ''I only need to see your computer.''
Me: ''Why are you asking me what I think I'm doing FIRST before you ask about my computer? Isn't it obvious I'm opening up my bag? What else, besides opening my bag up, did you think I was doing? I certainly wasn't about to juggle or do a backflip.''
Security Chick: ''I only need to check your computer.''
Me: ''Well, why didn't you say that in the first place instead of copping the attitude with your 'Can I ask what you think you're doing' crack?''
Security Chick: ''All we need to do is check your computer.''
Me: ''Which doesn't answer the question I'm asking you. You see, the first thing you said was unnecessary and rude. How was I supposed to know you only want to check my computer? You guys have done this bag search different every single time I go through here. Is it my fault you can't make up your minds?''
Security Chick: ''I didn't give you any attitude sir. I just needed to check your computer.''
Me: ''Riiiight.''
I then stood still as Security Chick dabbed a bomb sniffing wipey pad all over my laptop and ran it through the bomb sniffy machine. The result? Surprise! My laptop isn't a bomb. Of course, it wasn't a bomb last week, either. I repacked my bag and huffed off. I wonder if the Green Beret dudes, who so far seem to just stand around and do nothing, were waiting for me to get all uppity so they could drag me off?
To make things even more interesting, the plane landed in Atlanta late making me miss my connection. AirTran, which sucks, was kind enough to book me onto a Delta flight with a 11:20 AM departure (where I am right now). I am only going to be in Houston for 20 frickin hours, as opposed to the usual 40 frickin hours.
Techie Note: PCMCIA cards (now widely known as PC Cards) suck up laptop power. If you're on an airplane and you don't need your LAN card, unplug the bee-yotch. I switched to a USB Ethernet adapter last week which cost only $50 and things are wonderful! My machine doesn't generate as much heat, and I don't have the stupid dongle hanging off the side for me to break off every 90 minutes. LinkSys makes the adapter.
I can't wait to get home.
Update: I got home but, of course, my luggage didn't follow me. I eventually received it late Sunday night. I talked AirTran into booking me to their 6 AM Monday morning flight so I could get some things done here (such as enjoying my stay at home). I have the illegal U-Turn ticket from New Jersey on the brain right now. I called the phone number on the back. Disconnected. I can't read the guy's handwriting which gives the name of the court house. Does this mean this is a fake ticket? I seriously doubt it.
don't get angry
2001.10.06 15.51
Been staying in the jacquzzi suite at the Best Western. The water is only as hot as you can get it from the tap. The jacquzzi doesn't heat the water for you. No bath salts accompanied the jacquzzi, but oddly enough a bar of soup was always placed there (as if I was gonna take a bath in that thing -- ha). Lots of mirrors on all the walls in case you're getting your groove on with your most special friend. Needless to say, I tried to avoid looking into the mirrors. One naked me is enough.The jets on the jacquzzi were lame. When I finally go out and buy a hot tub I'm gonna have to sample several brands before making a decision. When the tub drained you could hear this giant sucking noise from the floor drain. I covered up the drain to stop the noise but another drain (the bathroom sink) started up with the same noise. Pretty soon I had every drain blocked. I am 100% positive I then heard the people in the room next to me say something like, ''Why the hell is our toilet making that sucking sound?''
Air Tran sucks. The changed all flight schedules after October 1st. Nobody ever told me, however. My flight plan guru in Houston never bothered to email me the updates. If he or she did, I never got it. See how I cleverly disguise the fact that I am complaining about a particular person. Maybe I can blame email on this, but I doubt it since I have been getting every CNN BREAKING NEWS email with startling speed for months. When I arrived at the Philadelphia airport on Friday anticipating my 7:05 PM departure, I was very depressed to find out that my flight had left at 4. The idiot at the gate was like, ''Dude, we don't have any more flights for today.'' I was like, ''Dude, I was on a 7:15 PM flight last week. What happened to it.'' He was all, ''Dude, I dunno.'' And I'm all, ''Well, find out then!'' And he's all, ''Okay.'' Bastard! I called up the travel agency and found out things were even worse: my normal return flight on Sunday, which was originally scheduled for 3:45 PM, was now set for an unappeasing 10 AM departure... in the morning!!1 What's up with that? I booked myself in the airport Marriot overnight where I'd have to wait until the next flight at 6:35 AM. The Marriot, by the way, has the worst excuse for high speed internet access. STSN, I believe, is the name of the company. This garbage DSL modem never gave me an IP so I ended up spending 75 cents on a local phone call to dial into AOL. Bleah.
I woke up at 4 in the morning so I could check in early. Guess what? Nobody was at the Air Tran counter FOR HOURS! This enormous line of 400 people formed behind me until they started issuing tickets at around 5:45 AM. The dork-knob gate people spent way too much time setting up these useless carry-on restriction signs. I finally checked in by 6:40 AM (they held the plane). Next up, the security gate guards were in a bad mood. I had to freaking put my freaking loose change from my pocket into a freaking blue plastic box and run it through the freaking x-ray. What were they expecting to see? Hidden knives inside my quarters and nickels? Of course they made me go to a table to have my bag searched, again. I suspect because I am male traveling solo that I am constantly getting my bag searched. I started to open up my bag and take out one or two things. And then this happens:
Low Paid Security Chick: ''Can I ask what you think you're doing?''
Me: ''Huh? I'm opening my bag so you can search it.''
Security Chick: ''I only need to see your computer.''
Me: ''Why are you asking me what I think I'm doing FIRST before you ask about my computer? Isn't it obvious I'm opening up my bag? What else, besides opening my bag up, did you think I was doing? I certainly wasn't about to juggle or do a backflip.''
Security Chick: ''I only need to check your computer.''
Me: ''Well, why didn't you say that in the first place instead of copping the attitude with your 'Can I ask what you think you're doing' crack?''
Security Chick: ''All we need to do is check your computer.''
Me: ''Which doesn't answer the question I'm asking you. You see, the first thing you said was unnecessary and rude. How was I supposed to know you only want to check my computer? You guys have done this bag search different every single time I go through here. Is it my fault you can't make up your minds?''
Security Chick: ''I didn't give you any attitude sir. I just needed to check your computer.''
Me: ''Riiiight.''
I then stood still as Security Chick dabbed a bomb sniffing wipey pad all over my laptop and ran it through the bomb sniffy machine. The result? Surprise! My laptop isn't a bomb. Of course, it wasn't a bomb last week, either. I repacked my bag and huffed off. I wonder if the Green Beret dudes, who so far seem to just stand around and do nothing, were waiting for me to get all uppity so they could drag me off?
To make things even more interesting, the plane landed in Atlanta late making me miss my connection. AirTran, which sucks, was kind enough to book me onto a Delta flight with a 11:20 AM departure (where I am right now). I am only going to be in Houston for 20 frickin hours, as opposed to the usual 40 frickin hours.
Techie Note: PCMCIA cards (now widely known as PC Cards) suck up laptop power. If you're on an airplane and you don't need your LAN card, unplug the bee-yotch. I switched to a USB Ethernet adapter last week which cost only $50 and things are wonderful! My machine doesn't generate as much heat, and I don't have the stupid dongle hanging off the side for me to break off every 90 minutes. LinkSys makes the adapter.
I can't wait to get home.
Update: I got home but, of course, my luggage didn't follow me. I eventually received it late Sunday night. I talked AirTran into booking me to their 6 AM Monday morning flight so I could get some things done here (such as enjoying my stay at home). I have the illegal U-Turn ticket from New Jersey on the brain right now. I called the phone number on the back. Disconnected. I can't read the guy's handwriting which gives the name of the court house. Does this mean this is a fake ticket? I seriously doubt it.
