So, I'm in the airport again....this time at JFK, the other major airport in NY. You know it's going to be bad when the lady at the counter looks at you with great sympathy and tells you that there are only scattered seats left (translation: middle seats) and there are swarms of high school kids everywhere (translation: you'll probably be sitting in their midst). "So, sorry. Good luck," she said. New Yorkers don't say sorry. Oh dear. Well, good thing I'm super, super sleep deprived. My plan---if my body will let me---is to sleep the entire flight.
It's chaos here in the British Airways terminal. These swarms of people have eaten up all the food and it's only 5 pm! After surveying the lax offerings, I settle on a mediocre slice of pizza (too much bread, very yeast-y). While I was
on line---and by the way, those of you who have picked on me----New Yorkers indeed do use the preposition "on" for queuing up, and they have been doing this before getting "online" meant going on the internet. You stand ON line. It is NOT "in line," those would be jazzed up roller skates. And I did not pick up this prepositional usage from immigrant speakers of bad English, but from bone fide New Yorkers. As I've queued up at various cash registers, I have been listen for this preposition, and yet again, I hear that it is a real New York-ism.
That was a long digression. Sorry, but this whole blog is a long digression. I suppose I will continue to digress---So, I was standing on line waiting for bad pizza, and I happen to over hear some junior high boys talking it up. They're apparently all going to Europe for something, and they're from all over the US. The guy I talked to was talking to some guy from Santa Cruz, and he asked if that was near Palo Alto where he goes all the time because his sister goes to Stanford. Yeah...and then then proceeded to have a whole conversation about the history of Stanford mascots---both boys were a little too well versed in this topic. You know, it used to be the Indian, and then that wasn't PC, so they had people vote and they were going to go with some...naked guy. (The naked guy! The naked guy is Berkeley's thing. We've got that old man who sits there with his typewriter.) Anyway---it's really bizarre how many conversations I end up overhearing about Stanford. Apparently, it's cool to go to Stanford.
Okay---if I've just typed that, I can tell I'm very tired. Headache-y tired; no-coherent-thought tired. Really-did-pack-until-we-left-for-the-airport-30-minutes-later-than-planned tired. I woke up at 5:30 this morning, partially because I couldn't sleep, partially because I set my alarm for 6 to help me adjust to the yuckiness that is taking red-eye flight, partially to work on a paper---a paper in which I had no time for and was assigned late, and I have been stressing over---and in my worry, I email the top guy, and despite sensing his disappointment, I think he doesn't care? ??!!???!?!?
Got some backlogged blogs about New Jersey to share. Next time when I'm more awake.....or suffering from major insomnia....or needing to stay awake...
Okay---random. My mom drops me off from the airport only to meet up with Tom Lee's mom who's in town from Buffalo. (Tom of Stanford fame.) Random. Whatever happened to Tom? Somebody forward this to him and let me know.
Uh. I have a feeling this will sit in my inbox for 3 weeks----because I'm not bringing my computer with me for the first leg of my trip...sorry---it's the weird blog with flashbacks!
