It's Gonna Be A Slow Weekend

Happy Thanksgiving to all of my American friends!  I figured I would post this today seeing that yesterday you were all too busy stuffing your face with turkey, five-bean casserole, pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, and, well, stuffing, and probably didn't have time to visit many blogs - that, and I was just to lazy (or late) to post anything at all.

So, as a respite for your bloated, hungover and over footballed selves, I offer the following diversion:

I won!!!

Yes, the intrepid Sir Punsalot  has graciously awarded me his weekly prize for his Pause, Ponder and Pun feature.  I am proud and honoured.  So, when you become tired of washing dishes, eating leftovers, watching football, strangling arguing with the family and/or have nothing better to do this weekend, please visit this week's  PPP offering.  Even if you don't submit a caption, the comments are hilarious every week - so is his site.

Although my Thanksgiving was in October, I am, again, thankful this week!

So, I Finally Bite the Bullet ...

What the hell was I thinking? I thought as the jet barrelled down the runway for takeoff. It was too late. The plane was in the air. At about 500 feet, the plane banked sharply to the right towards its destination while the mechanical whir of the landing gear stirred noisily beneath my feet, both of which events sent me into a heightened state of fear and panic.  My grip on the hand rests could have crushed the neck of a moose.

It was a morning flight. My traveling companion and co-worker knew that I was afraid of flying but had never traveled with me before. He did, however, notice my edgy nervousness. Our trip consisted of two short flights with an hour or so layover at the connecting airport.  The first flight started and ended without incident.

During the layover, I took the opportunity to consume several beers along with another Gravol pill to calm my nerves before the connecting flight. This shouldn't be so bad after all, I thought after the self-prescribed relaxants kicked in. Just before our second flight was scheduled to depart, we were informed that the aircraft that was to take us to our destination "not reach yet", but we would be transferred to another carrier that would accommodate our schedule. There would be a twenty minute delay in boarding, during which time another beer was consumed.

The plane was small, consisting of about eighteen seats arranged in two single rows of on either side of the cabin. My six-foot tall, 240 pound co-worker struggled down the aisle to reach his seat. I sat directly across the aisle from him. About four or five other passengers had also boarded the plane and occupied the seats in front of us.

Despite the meds and alcohol, I was still extremely nervous but finally relaxed a little twenty minutes into the flight. As the plane reduced altitude and speed for the landing approach, we encountered some turbulence and I immediately put a moose choking grip on the head rest of the empty seat in front of me. I glanced at my co-worker with wide eyes: he was chuckling at me. I then looked out the window and noticed the wings were flapping in unison to the bumps of the turbulence. Great, I'm trapped inside a fucking mechanical albatross.


Two minutes later, the plane made a sharp bank to the right for the landing approach. All of a sudden me and my co-worker were cheek-to-cheek.  Evidently, his seat was not anchored to the floor on the window side of the cabin. The plane then levelled out and his seat returned to its upright position. We looked at each other: WTF???   My co-worker was no longer chuckling.  Welcome to my hell.  Again the plane banked sharply to the right and I reacted quickly, reaching across the aisle to brace his seat with my hand. After levelling out the second time, we both started to laugh hysterically. The plane made one last turn before landing with me bracing his seat upright.

As we started to depart the plane, both of us were nervously giggling down the aisle toward the door and I was about to tell the co-pilot of the unsecured seat but, just then, I smacked my forehead into the top of the doorway.  Fuck it.  Let somebody else enjoy a Disney-ride "Airplane" experience.

Okay, so I can be mean.

On the wake of the recent uproar to the breaches of passenger screening, did anyone not think to see if the planes themselves are airworthy??  How about checking those lug-nuts on the landing gear, eh??

Oy.

The Bloggerhood of the Traveling Book (Chapter 5)

Firstly, let me apologize in advance for this creatively mediocre post - not that my posts are all that creative, or not mediocre for that matter - but I am suffering from a head cold gifted to me from a friend from Canada. I only picked him up at the airport for christssake! A mere ten minute drive from the airport to his place and - WHAM! - I was down and out for the count late Sunday afternoon. I will forgive him, though, since he brought me a couple of Cadbury's Caramilk bars, which I will not eat until my taste buds return to normal. It's torture, I tell you!  Torture!

So, I am feeling out of sorts: my brain feels like it is having an out of body experience.

But I am digressing, sneezing, coughing and moaning.

It all started this past summer - I'm guessing in June or July - when Unfinished Person (a.k.a. and/or formerly known as Unfinished Rambler - and who I think may be suffering from an unfinished identity crisis ;-) sent a book to Quirkyloon (who is still Quirkyloon and quirky - in a nice way, of course ;-). After reading it, Quirkyloon offered the novel to the first person brave enough to e-mail her his or her actual mailing address! "Daredevil" Boom Boom  (formerly known - but may still be known as -  CatLadyLarew, who has oneofthelongestURLblogaddressesI'veeverseen, and also appears to be suffering an identity crisis  ;-)  received the book from Quirkyloon.

Boom Boom thought that the passing of the book to others was such a novel idea that she decided to keep this readership going and coined it, "The Bloggerhood of the Traveling Book".  From Boom Boom, the book made its way to nonamedufus (who I've recently nicknamed, "Sir Punsalot" merely because he does and is a master at it ;-) and lives in Canada, more specifically, from *farts* Quebec.  After answering a simple question - okay, I admit I was wrong on my first guess - the book made it to me.

The title in question is, "The Girl Who Played With Fire" by Stieg Larsson, and is the second of a trilogy.

I now have the privilege of being part of this Bloggerhood book club and the honour of passing this novel to anyone else who is interested in joining. As I said, this is the second book of a trilogy, but I think its story stands on its own so it isn't absolutely necessary to read the first.   It's an exceptional read.

So, without further ado, I'll send it to the first person who can decipher this acronym:

BOS 

• Hint #1: It's what I feel like with this head cold. 
• Hint #2: It's what a mischievous kid (and possible future arsonist) would leave on the porch of a nasty neighbour.

If you don't want to join, comments are still welcome!  But, just think ...

(My web cam shot of the inside cover.  What?? I'm lazy and ill - sue me.)