Monday, January 5, 2004

A Journal from Austin, Texas.
A Project of LBFFP Stealth Publishing.

fit to fly

I learned that fitness counts on car trips this year. I thnk fitness helps when flying, too.

Lincoln

JUST TYPING

To fly...you must get up early.
Pack up, toke the luggage to the lobby.
To the van.
To the terminal.
Stand in line. And stand. And stand.
Get checked in.
Check luggage in another place.
And in another line.
Take stuff out of bags, off your body.
Then put everything back on.
Find a bathroom, a coffee, water, take pills so the ears can fly.
Stand in line, get on.
Wiggle in a small space. The noise.
Then a ride down an escalator to a slow train to another terminal.
You're late. So is the plane.
You stand.
To sit, cramped, to fly again after a long drive.
Then another van.
Your own car.
And home.

Food Diary.

breakfast
[American Airlines]

bagel, cream cheese, jam, part of a egg thing, fruit, tomato juice, coffee

lunch

I'm not sure I exactly had lunch. Think I ate a Luna bar (180 calories) after we got home.

snacks
an apple

dinner
[Fonda San Miguel]

chips, salsa
two Margaritas with olives
ceviche
rotisserie pork with potatoes and carrots and rajas and onions (took some home)

Today I
- probably ate other things that I forgot...it's surprisingly hard to do these food diaries if you don't get it done in real time.

Meta: I'm still runnig behind and it is certainly not the same as real time...but that old real time does slip away.

Time flies....

We were up at 4:30, getting dressed, showers, making coffee, buttoning up the luggage. Then we waited in the lobby for the van and I had another sip of coffee they had. Then we were off to the airport and we were there before six. Our flight was eight. We stood in the agent line because I'd booked upgrades but to get FFP's out of my account we knew that we would have to see an agent anyway. The line was long (as was the kiosk one) but it went fast enough. Then we dropped the check bags off with the security where bags were piled high awaiting the machine.

Security was pretty chaotic, too, with probably fifteen or twenty minutes in line and such. Still we were early enough at the gate for me to go for water, take my decongestant for flying, for FFP to go for a breakfast sandwich, for pre-boarding bathroom visits. Since we were in First Class we enjoyed the room but our seats were separated and I was beside someone who put a blanket over her head and didn't look like she'd want to be disturbed in the aisle seat. I ate my breakfast and read and started writing a 'book' in a weird form (see below) in my little notebook.

We had a short time and a long distance between gates in Dallas. But when we'd done the slow train and gotten there they weren't boarding, running late. Which was good. Had time for a bathroom trip. Still not loading but when it started we got in Group 1. I guess those million miles were worth something. (I didn't actually fly a million miles...I think they give you credit for miles you get using credit cards and dining and through special offers. Still it's fairly amazing and scary, is it not?)

We were late but home without incident. The bags arrived, the FastPark van was there and whisked us to our car and we were headed home. I called everyone from the cell on the way and told them we were home.

I unpacked, started laundry, organized things. This is almost as time-consuming as packing. Of course, things fill time if you have it. The workmen are taping and floating, the dog has been returned from her care, we are getting back to normal.

We end up at Fonda, having a pleasant meal. I'm thinking what a good life it is. We are very lucky.

At home I think I'll catch up the journal, read the eleven papers that arrived while we were gone. But I think I mostly sleep. Maybe the decongestants, maybe the Margaritas and maybe just flying but I sleep and sleep hard.

Reading.

Dawn of D-Day: There Men Were There 6 June 1944 by David Howarth

The Best American Essays 2003 edited by Anne Fadiman.

Newspapers. A little catching up to do.

So I want to write fiction so that I can invent things. Remake the world in a satisfactory image. But I want to tell the truth as I see it, too. Anyway, I started writing a thing that intersperses fiction with asides about everything from naming characters to how the characters are not me but are, are not people I know but are. This is a piece I might be able to write. It's probably not one anyone would want to read, though.

Exercise

unless walking through airports and lifting luggage counts...nothing

It's a Tangled
Web we weave...these
days of our lives.

One year ago
"I'm reading an old diary I found in sorting through my mess in the guest room. How much and how little things have changed since 1975."

Two years ago

"I don't know what I expected to see or feel. On the other hand I thought I understood it in a slightly new way."