Home for the weekend and avoiding homecoming

In the spirit of staying in tune with the newest craze, I'll follow other technically-inclined peeps and start a blog, against all advice from my s.o. He doubts that I'll update it enough, but we'll show him. Ha! Or he'll be right and my inherent tendency to lie on the couch and watch Alias and Friends reruns will prevail. Until then, though, we'll proceed as planned.

I was in the Bermuda Triangle yesterday. Yes, people, I found it, and I was there. I was in Newark -- whose only saving grace, I learned, was its proximity to the city -- for the week and heading home to Madison.

It all started about 4:00 EST when a group of colleagues and I called 4 cabs over a 40-minute span. Only 1 showed. The dispatcher kept insisting that the cabbie had driven by and not seen anyone. How is that possible when we're standing right on the doorstep?! We were grumpy, cold, and dependent on the durn cabs to retreive us. So, when the 1 trusty cab came, we shook our heads in faint disbelief and got in. At EWR, we were able to get on an earlier flight to Detroit (yay!), but nevertheless, we remained in the Bermuda Triangle.

We sat in the gate area, reading our pleasure-reading-of-choice (me, US and People; the guys, USA Today), when it came to our attention that the music we had taken for granted wasn't coming from the airport speakers, but from some bozo weirdo with a cowboy hat on (not that I'm judgmental of cowboy hats but just wait) playing his horrendous techno music OVER HIS LAPTOP SPEAKERS. My first thought was, "well, maybe he's been sitting here for a long time with a delayed flight and he forgot his headphones so he's just desperate." My generosity and positivity lasted all of 5 seconds when I realized his headphones were AROUND HIS NECK. What a tool. So, there he sits -- under his cowboy hat, in his 70's shirt with pearly buttons, his retro bowling shoes on -- listening to techno music. Unbelievable. And he's oblivious to how rude he's being. Some people. Thank god we left him in Newark and didn't take him with us to Detroit.

Never you fear, there were other strange people to encounter in Detroit. First there was the weird kid at the sushi place who was 8 years old and ordering sushi like a snotty 50-year old business man. Reminded me of the kid in About a Boy -- that movie with Hugh Grant and Toni Collette -- where the kid's mom is totally clueless about social graces, therefore rendering the poor boy totally clueless about social graces.

Then there was the man-child sitting next to me on the airplane who refused to turn his cell phone off while on the runway. Just turn it off, dude, the flight is only 48 minutes. Seriously, some people.

Goodbye, B.T. Hello, Madtown. It's homecoming this weekend, so the s.o. and I are staying inside where it's safe. Maybe we'll venture out, but we'll put our gas masks on before doing so. Look at me, I think I'm Sidney Bristow.

I'm heading out to Salem, Oregon on Monday, so I'm going to get off the computer and enjoy the rest of my work-free weekend. Yeah, who am I kidding? I'll probably work tomorrow. At least work + watching football is more fun than just work! Have a great weekend.

...scoutfinch signing off for now.