As the computer nerd among us, I feel it's my duty to pass along a very important fact concerning free public wifi internet and your personal account. When you login to something (gmail, facebook, anything that requires authentication, etc.) your username and password is typically encrypted, but little else is. It's very easy for people/hackers to assume your identity on accounts by pulling your unencrypted cookies from the public wifi you're using. (This article is technical but easily understood if you have interest in knowing more.)
One of my developers walked me through this process and I was shocked to see what I could do "as" someone else on facebook, or whose email I could browse through. The good news is that most of these accounts require you to type in your old password before changing to a NEW password, so you shouldn't ever be locked completely out of your account, but much harm can be done before you know it. So! Beware of what you're doing on free public wifi -- this includes the airport (where I now sit typing this email as I'm avoiding Facebook for this very reason.) The good news is that Gmail can be saved. Each of you (ALL of you) should take the following steps to secure your Gmail connection.
1. Sign in to Gmail.
2. Click on Settings in the upper right hand corner.
3. Under the "General" tab, "Browser Connection" area, make sure "Always use https" is selected.
That's it! This will make sure Gmail is encrypting every page you're on when you access it -- from any device, on any network, anywhere in the world. PROMISE ME YOU'LL DO THIS.
Okay! That's it for me. A pre-Christmas gift from me to you. Not as great as a tin 'o three flavored popcorns, but a heckuva lot more useful, right?
Showing posts with label flying the friendly skies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flying the friendly skies. Show all posts
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Thursday, September 02, 2010
the closest cut
Growing up, I was the one who packed a bag for vacation weeks in advance. (I'm looking at you Girl's Camp 1996 and '97.) Now, my life is unpredictable enough that despite my best efforts--and nerdy To Do lists--I'm sitting on my bed, working from home, on a conference call, surrounded by stacks of clothing not in a suitcase, and headed out of the country for ten days in less than two hours. And I need a shower. And have another hour conference call. BUT NO STRESS GUYS.
I went to Kansas last weekend to visit Alicia and it was one of my funnest weekend trips in years and years. How quickly five years melted away and I remembered why we consider ourselves sisterly. Sure, we've each got our own--but boy howdy do we get along well. We talked nonstop for three days and I refound some center before being thrown back into the storm of wild work projects. We shopped baby clothes (she's having a girl and I'm getting a nephew(!!?!) and talked baby names. The greatest lesson I learned this week is HOW GLAD I AM NOT TO BE NAMING ANOTHER HUMAN. Good luck ladies.
So I'm headed on a little trip tonight. Flying to Amsterdam and cruising to Barcelona. That means ports in Brugge, Belgium; Normandy, France, Vigo, Spain and a ferry to Isla Cies; Lisbon, Portugal; THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR; and then into Barcelona. I told you I love a cruise. The biggest stresser is making contingency plans with my gal pal Laura to meet in the Amsterdam airport, or at the port, or in Brugge should one of us get displaced by flights. Hurricane Earl, I shake my fist at you!
So, I guess I might have a photo or two to share when I come back. If I ever get there in the first place.
I went to Kansas last weekend to visit Alicia and it was one of my funnest weekend trips in years and years. How quickly five years melted away and I remembered why we consider ourselves sisterly. Sure, we've each got our own--but boy howdy do we get along well. We talked nonstop for three days and I refound some center before being thrown back into the storm of wild work projects. We shopped baby clothes (she's having a girl and I'm getting a nephew(!!?!) and talked baby names. The greatest lesson I learned this week is HOW GLAD I AM NOT TO BE NAMING ANOTHER HUMAN. Good luck ladies.
So I'm headed on a little trip tonight. Flying to Amsterdam and cruising to Barcelona. That means ports in Brugge, Belgium; Normandy, France, Vigo, Spain and a ferry to Isla Cies; Lisbon, Portugal; THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR; and then into Barcelona. I told you I love a cruise. The biggest stresser is making contingency plans with my gal pal Laura to meet in the Amsterdam airport, or at the port, or in Brugge should one of us get displaced by flights. Hurricane Earl, I shake my fist at you!
So, I guess I might have a photo or two to share when I come back. If I ever get there in the first place.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Day 13
Twenty minutes left in today to write yet another post about a book. Am I allowed to say that I'm wearing thin coming in to this next section of the list? I feel like I blog about books all the time; heck I even have an entire label for nothing but books. But alas, I'm bound by the rules I place upon myself, here goes.
A fiction book
I've pigeonholed myself into answering with one response for each of these 30-day entries. I'm going to respond in the spirit of the challenge but mix things up just a bit -- I'm going to choose a genre of fiction to discuss. Don't worry about pointing out my inability to stick-to-it in deviating from my own rules--no one is more broken up about it than I am.
My dad and I share quite a bit in common--the list is long enough and deserving of its own post (note to self: Father's Day in June), but in the interest of today's topic, we shall discuss books. I'm not quite sure how it got started, but we're avid readers of the paperback thriller. The kind you read once, enjoy, and throw or give away. Six bucks for a couple hundred page escape into a slice-em-dice-em cop series, lawyer battle, or renegade vigilante (Jack Reacher, I'm looking at you); we're not too picky.
Books of this type are perfect for travel; they can be consumed on a cross-country flight and then left on a seat in the terminal and then written off on your taxes as donations. My dad used to travel a lot for work and said his only free reading time was on a plane. I've found myself flying the friendly skies infinitely more in the last few years and I understand the allure of the sit, read, be done. Heavy on plot, thin on literary elements. Now, anytime we're in each other's town books are exchanged and it's not uncommon for us to have already read the offered book. I can rarely go to Target or Costco and find a book whose cover I don't recognize because I've already read the book, but whose plot I can seriously not remember.
I'm the most squeamy, scairdy-cat person in real life. You'd be appalled at the grisly books I read--true, some are more graphic than others, but I so enjoy them all. It's one of the few areas of my life I have a hard time explaining the delta.
So if you're looking for a recommendation for some easy, light (ha!) reading, check out Harlan Coben (our favorite and actually not graphic murder books, just suspense), Lee Child (I promise you'll love ex-MP Jack Reacher and want to read all the books about him), and if you really are feeling grisly, James Patterson.
Now you can be done reading about books. Orange you glad I didn't say Count of Monte Cristo? (100 pages to go! One Harlan Coben, one James Patterson, and "The Help" finished in the meantime.) My other genre of books are those eventually made in to movies--and yes, the book IS generally better than the movie, but sometimes the book isn't all that good to begin with. In case you were wondering. You know.
A fiction book
I've pigeonholed myself into answering with one response for each of these 30-day entries. I'm going to respond in the spirit of the challenge but mix things up just a bit -- I'm going to choose a genre of fiction to discuss. Don't worry about pointing out my inability to stick-to-it in deviating from my own rules--no one is more broken up about it than I am.
My dad and I share quite a bit in common--the list is long enough and deserving of its own post (note to self: Father's Day in June), but in the interest of today's topic, we shall discuss books. I'm not quite sure how it got started, but we're avid readers of the paperback thriller. The kind you read once, enjoy, and throw or give away. Six bucks for a couple hundred page escape into a slice-em-dice-em cop series, lawyer battle, or renegade vigilante (Jack Reacher, I'm looking at you); we're not too picky.
Books of this type are perfect for travel; they can be consumed on a cross-country flight and then left on a seat in the terminal and then written off on your taxes as donations. My dad used to travel a lot for work and said his only free reading time was on a plane. I've found myself flying the friendly skies infinitely more in the last few years and I understand the allure of the sit, read, be done. Heavy on plot, thin on literary elements. Now, anytime we're in each other's town books are exchanged and it's not uncommon for us to have already read the offered book. I can rarely go to Target or Costco and find a book whose cover I don't recognize because I've already read the book, but whose plot I can seriously not remember.
I'm the most squeamy, scairdy-cat person in real life. You'd be appalled at the grisly books I read--true, some are more graphic than others, but I so enjoy them all. It's one of the few areas of my life I have a hard time explaining the delta.
So if you're looking for a recommendation for some easy, light (ha!) reading, check out Harlan Coben (our favorite and actually not graphic murder books, just suspense), Lee Child (I promise you'll love ex-MP Jack Reacher and want to read all the books about him), and if you really are feeling grisly, James Patterson.
Now you can be done reading about books. Orange you glad I didn't say Count of Monte Cristo? (100 pages to go! One Harlan Coben, one James Patterson, and "The Help" finished in the meantime.) My other genre of books are those eventually made in to movies--and yes, the book IS generally better than the movie, but sometimes the book isn't all that good to begin with. In case you were wondering. You know.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
matchmaker, matchmaker
Yesterday, I flew home from Salt Lake on a relatively perfect flight. I was due, given my colorful experiences of the trip out of Boston--suffice it so say that I didn't realize I had such a strong affinity for my most frequent airline (Alaskan Airlines. That's right. Weird, huh?) until I had to take another.
I had my own row, a bag of pre-packed pistachios and chocolate covered pretzels, the book "March" by Geraldine Brooks (written by Pa Marsh [of Little Women fame] and his experiences during the Civil War while his family waited back in Concord). Oh yah, and Millionaire Matchmaker.
I didn't feel too bad tuning in to back-to-back episodes of this E! staple. It was a) my first time, b) I spent the commercials reading my book, c) it was an instant upgrade from the back-t0-back episodes I watched of Real Housewives of Orange County, d) I'd already played four rounds of inflight trivia (blast you BUBBA and IRA for always putting me in 2nd place!!) and e) Patty and Millionaire Matchmaker came up quite a few times on my trip to the Mountain West. Why? I don't know. Why am I writing a blog about this? I don't know that either.
But there I am, watching, kind of intrigued. Until I recognize one of the gals who gets chosen to go on one of the mini-dates with the Millionaire. I recognize her. No, it's not someone I knew, or someone I went to school with -- it's a girl I recognize from another dating show. (Dating in the Dark for those who are interested.)
Sigh. For all the reasons I don't have to name, because you already understand. Sigh.
BUT I'M STILL AWESOME.
I had my own row, a bag of pre-packed pistachios and chocolate covered pretzels, the book "March" by Geraldine Brooks (written by Pa Marsh [of Little Women fame] and his experiences during the Civil War while his family waited back in Concord). Oh yah, and Millionaire Matchmaker.
I didn't feel too bad tuning in to back-to-back episodes of this E! staple. It was a) my first time, b) I spent the commercials reading my book, c) it was an instant upgrade from the back-t0-back episodes I watched of Real Housewives of Orange County, d) I'd already played four rounds of inflight trivia (blast you BUBBA and IRA for always putting me in 2nd place!!) and e) Patty and Millionaire Matchmaker came up quite a few times on my trip to the Mountain West. Why? I don't know. Why am I writing a blog about this? I don't know that either.
But there I am, watching, kind of intrigued. Until I recognize one of the gals who gets chosen to go on one of the mini-dates with the Millionaire. I recognize her. No, it's not someone I knew, or someone I went to school with -- it's a girl I recognize from another dating show. (Dating in the Dark for those who are interested.)
Sigh. For all the reasons I don't have to name, because you already understand. Sigh.
BUT I'M STILL AWESOME.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Flight from Hell
I mean, I really did it to myself. I've never had much problem with flying the friendly skies, but get a load of the whale of a tale I experienced in the last few days.
Thursday (departure day)
BOSTON
9am - Wake up to another day of falling snow. Heavy falling snow. Snow is falling so hard that Brenda's car does a downhill half-spin as she takes me to work.
2pm - Snow is still falling heavily. I'm anxious about my flight; surely planes don't leave in this type of weather? Airline websites say there are slight delays, but nothing major.
6pm - Dad (the travel guru) gave the green light on heading to the airport--we agreed that I needed to get out of Boston and as far West as possible.
6:30pm - Arrive at the airport. It's a ghost town. Lines are short and I'm feeling like everything is going to work out. Flight is set to depart on time at 8:17pm.
8:00pm - Board flight a little late, but it's all good because I'm on one of the flights leaving the still snowing city. I'm riding first class (high in the sky) next to a nice woman headed to Sacramento.
8:05pm - Two early 30's women stumble on board. They met at the hotel bar and are liquored up. Any guesses where they'll be sitting?
9:30pm - The liquored ladies have been screeching and cackling for 90 minutes now. All the first class passengers were turning around to glare, or making funny faces/hand motions to each other about the LLs. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when we finally pull back from the gate. We get de-iced and get in line for takeoff.
10:30pm - The snow is still falling hard. We're second in line for takeoff. LL1 (who models for J.Jill and has three kids, a poker-loving Nana with a face-card printed vest, and an iPhone she blasted Rihanna from) gets up from her chair, sprints to the front of the cabin and busts her way into the bathroom. Mind you, the flight crew has told us repeatedly not to get up. Chaos ensues.
11:30pm - We're number 1 in line for departure. Oh. But. Wait. We've fallen below the minimum gas supply to make it to Vegas. We must turn around, go back to the gate, gas up, de-ice, and get back into line. Chaos ensues.
Friday
BOSTON
12:00 midnight - Our plane has been gassed. We should be set to go, right? Think again. Our flight crews are technically passed their union-allowed working hours. Our flight attendants have already worked a 14-hour day; add in our near 6 hour flight.... They could have walked and been just fine. Lucky for everyone, they wanted out of Boston as badly as we did. The legal issue was with the pilots; the FAA allows 8-hours of flying only. We had to wait for several supervisors and FAA personnel to sign off on the hour overage.
12:30am - There is much rejoicing when our plane finally gets into the air. I've been in seat 2A for four hours at this point.
1:00am - The movie their showing is The Santa Clause 3. I think I'll pass.
2:00am - The LLs continue their quest toward emptying every liquor bottle on the plane. By this point I've heard many a story about LL2's drinking habits (got so wasted at the holiday party Tuesday night that she slept in her car, doesn't need an excuse to drink, frequently can't remember the night before)--and she proves it's true. The cackling hens continue their cackling.
3:00am - THe LLs are watching a movie on LL1's iPhone. Their volume of chatter increases when they try to talk over their headsets.
LAS VEGAS - 10 hours after arriving at the Boston airport
6:30am - We finally land in Vegas.
3:30am - Switch to Vegas time.
3:35am - The gate attendant hands me my new flight schedule. I'll leave from Vegas to Portland Saturday night at 7:30pm. 40 hours from the current time. I grovel with the desk and am booked on a flight to Phoenix where I'll be standby to Portland. Getting stranded in Phx isn't so terrible as I have family to stay with.
4:00am - Find an empty gate, pull my hood over my head, set my alarm for 6, and lie down on the floor to get some sleep.
5:30am - It's too cold and hard to sleep for longer than 7 minutes at a time. The stores are finally opening; buy a fountain drink at Burger King and sit, nursing it at a table. Pseudo-sleeping on the floor was not good to me--I look like I've had a hard night. A really hard night.
6:30am - Board the plane. Late. Everyone's on, we push back.
7:00am - And wait.
7:15am - And wait.
7:30am - We're told that there's weather in Phoenix. I'm sorry, what? There's never weather in Phoenix. Air traffic control will let us know in 22 minutes whether or not we can leave Vegas. They're advising we turn back now, but we can wait. If I don't make the connection from Phx to Portland, I'm done for the holiday. I'm on the phone with my Mom, seeing if she can buy a ticket on another airline to get home.
8:00am - We're given the go-ahead. Much internal rejoicing when we get off the ground.
PHOENIX - 18 hours after arriving at the Boston airport
9:00am - We land in Phoenix.
10:00am - Switch to Phoenix time.
10:01am - I'm on standby, so I rush rush rush to my gate. Miracle of miracles, they have a seat for me. Much rejoicing throughout the land. In celebration, I decide to indulge on the best of all airport foods--the pepperoni pizza from Pizza Hut.
10:15am - Pizza goodness is resting comfortably in my stomach. Outlook is better. I should get in line to board the plane but decide to reward my long days travel with some Starburst.
10:20am - Approach Hudson News counter to buy my Starburst. Wallet is missing.
10:21am - In full on freak out mode.
10:22am - Pizza Hut does not have my wallet. The customers in line certainly have crusty looks for me.
10:23am - Dashing through the terminal to where I sat, eating my pizza.
10:24am - Wallet is found, still under my seat.
10:25am - I march right over and board my freaking plane.
10:45am - Much internal rejoicing when we get off the ground.
PORTLAND - 24 hours after arriving at the Boston airport.
2:00pm - We land in Portland.
1:00pm - Switch to Portland time.
1:15pm - The girls are here to get me. They're circling the airport as my flight's bags are circling the luggage concourse.
1:30pm - Guess whose bag didn't come? Are you really even shocked?
2:00pm - Lost bag claim ticket filled out. The girls pick me up. They're probably shocked by my crazily unkempt appearance--staticky hair, baggy eyes, mismatched clothes... I can hardly think straight. I don't even really care my bag is lost, I'm just so happy to actually be in Portland.
4:00pm - Get a call. They have my bag. When can I come pick it up? Oh, 8pm? Great.
8:00pm - Go to airport to pick up my bag.
8:01pm - THEY DON'T HAVE IT.
8:10pm - It's not in the lockbox.
8:15pm - It's not in the back.
8:20pm - They see my claim ticket, but it's been closed out in the computer.
8:25pm - More is done to try to locate my bag. The airline people are confused.
8:30pm - A holy Christmas miracle when my bag is actually found in the lockbox.
8:35pm - I tell the luggage desk woman this has been the FLIGHT FROM HELL and wish her a Merry Christmas. I think she can tell how haggard my day has been.
SO there you have it. 24-hours to get from Boston to Portland. (I flew on a 6 hour direct flight in September.) 30-hours for my luggage to arrive.
The only good that came from this experience was a long blog. I hope you enjoyed it. However, much like I jinxed myself by reading about Flights from Hell, you've now jinxed yourself. Not a smart move. Trips from hell are like that video in The Ring; you've got to pass it on to expel it from your system.
Safe and happy travels.
Thursday (departure day)
BOSTON
9am - Wake up to another day of falling snow. Heavy falling snow. Snow is falling so hard that Brenda's car does a downhill half-spin as she takes me to work.
2pm - Snow is still falling heavily. I'm anxious about my flight; surely planes don't leave in this type of weather? Airline websites say there are slight delays, but nothing major.
6pm - Dad (the travel guru) gave the green light on heading to the airport--we agreed that I needed to get out of Boston and as far West as possible.
6:30pm - Arrive at the airport. It's a ghost town. Lines are short and I'm feeling like everything is going to work out. Flight is set to depart on time at 8:17pm.
8:00pm - Board flight a little late, but it's all good because I'm on one of the flights leaving the still snowing city. I'm riding first class (high in the sky) next to a nice woman headed to Sacramento.
8:05pm - Two early 30's women stumble on board. They met at the hotel bar and are liquored up. Any guesses where they'll be sitting?
9:30pm - The liquored ladies have been screeching and cackling for 90 minutes now. All the first class passengers were turning around to glare, or making funny faces/hand motions to each other about the LLs. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when we finally pull back from the gate. We get de-iced and get in line for takeoff.
10:30pm - The snow is still falling hard. We're second in line for takeoff. LL1 (who models for J.Jill and has three kids, a poker-loving Nana with a face-card printed vest, and an iPhone she blasted Rihanna from) gets up from her chair, sprints to the front of the cabin and busts her way into the bathroom. Mind you, the flight crew has told us repeatedly not to get up. Chaos ensues.
11:30pm - We're number 1 in line for departure. Oh. But. Wait. We've fallen below the minimum gas supply to make it to Vegas. We must turn around, go back to the gate, gas up, de-ice, and get back into line. Chaos ensues.
Friday
BOSTON
12:00 midnight - Our plane has been gassed. We should be set to go, right? Think again. Our flight crews are technically passed their union-allowed working hours. Our flight attendants have already worked a 14-hour day; add in our near 6 hour flight.... They could have walked and been just fine. Lucky for everyone, they wanted out of Boston as badly as we did. The legal issue was with the pilots; the FAA allows 8-hours of flying only. We had to wait for several supervisors and FAA personnel to sign off on the hour overage.
12:30am - There is much rejoicing when our plane finally gets into the air. I've been in seat 2A for four hours at this point.
1:00am - The movie their showing is The Santa Clause 3. I think I'll pass.
2:00am - The LLs continue their quest toward emptying every liquor bottle on the plane. By this point I've heard many a story about LL2's drinking habits (got so wasted at the holiday party Tuesday night that she slept in her car, doesn't need an excuse to drink, frequently can't remember the night before)--and she proves it's true. The cackling hens continue their cackling.
3:00am - THe LLs are watching a movie on LL1's iPhone. Their volume of chatter increases when they try to talk over their headsets.
LAS VEGAS - 10 hours after arriving at the Boston airport
6:30am - We finally land in Vegas.
3:30am - Switch to Vegas time.
3:35am - The gate attendant hands me my new flight schedule. I'll leave from Vegas to Portland Saturday night at 7:30pm. 40 hours from the current time. I grovel with the desk and am booked on a flight to Phoenix where I'll be standby to Portland. Getting stranded in Phx isn't so terrible as I have family to stay with.
4:00am - Find an empty gate, pull my hood over my head, set my alarm for 6, and lie down on the floor to get some sleep.
5:30am - It's too cold and hard to sleep for longer than 7 minutes at a time. The stores are finally opening; buy a fountain drink at Burger King and sit, nursing it at a table. Pseudo-sleeping on the floor was not good to me--I look like I've had a hard night. A really hard night.
6:30am - Board the plane. Late. Everyone's on, we push back.
7:00am - And wait.
7:15am - And wait.
7:30am - We're told that there's weather in Phoenix. I'm sorry, what? There's never weather in Phoenix. Air traffic control will let us know in 22 minutes whether or not we can leave Vegas. They're advising we turn back now, but we can wait. If I don't make the connection from Phx to Portland, I'm done for the holiday. I'm on the phone with my Mom, seeing if she can buy a ticket on another airline to get home.
8:00am - We're given the go-ahead. Much internal rejoicing when we get off the ground.
PHOENIX - 18 hours after arriving at the Boston airport
9:00am - We land in Phoenix.
10:00am - Switch to Phoenix time.
10:01am - I'm on standby, so I rush rush rush to my gate. Miracle of miracles, they have a seat for me. Much rejoicing throughout the land. In celebration, I decide to indulge on the best of all airport foods--the pepperoni pizza from Pizza Hut.
10:15am - Pizza goodness is resting comfortably in my stomach. Outlook is better. I should get in line to board the plane but decide to reward my long days travel with some Starburst.
10:20am - Approach Hudson News counter to buy my Starburst. Wallet is missing.
10:21am - In full on freak out mode.
10:22am - Pizza Hut does not have my wallet. The customers in line certainly have crusty looks for me.
10:23am - Dashing through the terminal to where I sat, eating my pizza.
10:24am - Wallet is found, still under my seat.
10:25am - I march right over and board my freaking plane.
10:45am - Much internal rejoicing when we get off the ground.
PORTLAND - 24 hours after arriving at the Boston airport.
2:00pm - We land in Portland.
1:00pm - Switch to Portland time.
1:15pm - The girls are here to get me. They're circling the airport as my flight's bags are circling the luggage concourse.
1:30pm - Guess whose bag didn't come? Are you really even shocked?
2:00pm - Lost bag claim ticket filled out. The girls pick me up. They're probably shocked by my crazily unkempt appearance--staticky hair, baggy eyes, mismatched clothes... I can hardly think straight. I don't even really care my bag is lost, I'm just so happy to actually be in Portland.
4:00pm - Get a call. They have my bag. When can I come pick it up? Oh, 8pm? Great.
8:00pm - Go to airport to pick up my bag.
8:01pm - THEY DON'T HAVE IT.
8:10pm - It's not in the lockbox.
8:15pm - It's not in the back.
8:20pm - They see my claim ticket, but it's been closed out in the computer.
8:25pm - More is done to try to locate my bag. The airline people are confused.
8:30pm - A holy Christmas miracle when my bag is actually found in the lockbox.
8:35pm - I tell the luggage desk woman this has been the FLIGHT FROM HELL and wish her a Merry Christmas. I think she can tell how haggard my day has been.
SO there you have it. 24-hours to get from Boston to Portland. (I flew on a 6 hour direct flight in September.) 30-hours for my luggage to arrive.
The only good that came from this experience was a long blog. I hope you enjoyed it. However, much like I jinxed myself by reading about Flights from Hell, you've now jinxed yourself. Not a smart move. Trips from hell are like that video in The Ring; you've got to pass it on to expel it from your system.
Safe and happy travels.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
The Unfriendly Skies
I just can't help it, I'm hooked on reading Flights from Hell.
Fun as it is, I'm starting to get pretty nervous about my rapidly-approaching flights to Phoenix, Portland, and Ireland.
Flying the friendly skies never seemed so ___________.
Fun as it is, I'm starting to get pretty nervous about my rapidly-approaching flights to Phoenix, Portland, and Ireland.
Flying the friendly skies never seemed so ___________.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Answered Prayers
I'm happy to announce that Southwest airlines has brought back honey-roasted peanuts.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
The Telegram
It's snow-snow-snowing and it won't won't stop.
STOP.
Today was my "last day lunch" since an Interactive department lunch-time meeting trumps the lunch we had planned for tomorrow.
STOP.
Stephanie and I decided today that we basically work with Javier from Felicity. Hilarious.
STOP.
I witnessed quite literally a drug-deal in the tunnel of the airport yesterday trying to board my plane. Where's an air marshall when you need one?
STOP.
The snow is throwing off this weekend's driving plans. Bust.
STOP.
Yesterday's interview was conducted with the founder as we walked his dog. Every interview has a curveball.
STOP.
Tonight after work is full of very important "last night in Salt Lake" tasks. Oil change, tire rotation, hair/bangs cut, dinner at the Texas, packing of the moto, etc.
STOP.
I'm tired and wish I could lay down and recuperate from my whirlwind trip this weekend.
STOP.
Any one-liner updates anyone cares to share?
STOP.
Today was my "last day lunch" since an Interactive department lunch-time meeting trumps the lunch we had planned for tomorrow.
STOP.
Stephanie and I decided today that we basically work with Javier from Felicity. Hilarious.
STOP.
I witnessed quite literally a drug-deal in the tunnel of the airport yesterday trying to board my plane. Where's an air marshall when you need one?
STOP.
The snow is throwing off this weekend's driving plans. Bust.
STOP.
Yesterday's interview was conducted with the founder as we walked his dog. Every interview has a curveball.
STOP.
Tonight after work is full of very important "last night in Salt Lake" tasks. Oil change, tire rotation, hair/bangs cut, dinner at the Texas, packing of the moto, etc.
STOP.
I'm tired and wish I could lay down and recuperate from my whirlwind trip this weekend.
STOP.
Any one-liner updates anyone cares to share?
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