In transit

I'm at O'Hare right now, killing time while I wait for my flight to KC to leave. It's been an uneventful trip so far, other than the woman in the row behind me on my flight from Boston, who spent an inordinate amount of time discussing (with a complete stranger) the horrible rash she had just picked up after getting a massage.

(Shudder)

She was concerned that she may have "ingested" something in the massage oil, because the rash had spread to "well... places the masseur didn't touch". That's wrong on so many levels. And I don't think "ingest" means what she thinks it means. Although you never know.

Thank God I wasn't sitting one row back. That could have been me nodding and smiling (and squirming) in the seat next to her.

Fortunately, I was able to drown the woman out (for the most part - sometimes you have a hard time not listening to these things; it's like the conversational equivalent of watching a train wreck). This was in large part due to the rockin' new tunes I got from the incomparable Maxx, who took a large chunk out of my Amazon wishlist in one fell swoop on Friday. (Yay Maxx!) For today, I have all the Spoon and New Pornographers I can eat, which is a very nice thing when you're trapped on planes and in airports, and trying not to be horrified by the people in the surrounding seats.

Anyway, nothing of substance to say - still creeped out by the rash discussion. Here's a New Pornographers video, though, so you can share in my musical joy:



I'll report in from the heart of Middle America in the next couple of days....