Ode to a Submariner #1

Living in a submarine is like living in a time capsule.

You're packed away in it and buried (ocean, dirt, same difference). People start to forget about you, the sound of your voice, the curves of your face. The world above goes on its merry way and changes. The world series and elections are won and lost. Celebreties marry and divorce. War was declared as was a cease fire. And there you are in your floating time capsule wearing the same thing you wore when you left.

And then you are dug up (summoned by the powers that be at DoD). Maybe you've changed a little - your hair and toenails are longer, but the world has changed more. The woman that you love has cut her hair and painted her toenails and forgot how to kiss a little. You remember together until the next capsule is buried.

My Fall Line-Up

I used to not watch much tv. During undergrad I nearly stopped all together. But having a townhouse in the suburbs, a full time job and grad school homework, I find myself on the couch watching tv quite a bit. It all stems from doing homework while sitting on the couch. I turned the tv on for company and bada bing bada boom I have 4-6 shows that I now love to watch. Similar to how people make a "This is my playlist" list or a "On my I-pod" list, this is my tv list:

Sunday nights:
60 minutes
Nip/Tuck (I watch it Sundays, I guess it plays on Tuesdays and repeats on Sundays?)

Monday nights:
Nothing for now because of softball games, however food network during dinner and discovery health after the games fills the void of a real series

Tuesday nights:
Miami Ink

Wednesday nights:
ANTM
Project Runway (though not for long, tonight, the FINALE!)

Thursday nights:
Ugly Betty and/or
Til Death with Finch from American Pie and the brother from Everybody Loves Raymond (but when I went looking for the link I found out they had apparently cancelled it)
Grey's Anatomy (which I was totally opposed to watching since I generally don't like bandwagon things unless I was on first - but it was actually interesting and a fresh alternative to ER which should have been yanked 2 years ago)

The rest of the time I flip between channels 55-58 (Discovery Health, Style, Food Network, and HGTV respectively).

Many Uses . . .

Shelter, protection, getting high

Please do suggest alternate ideas for exterminating the umm . . . weeds.

Because I'm just that classy

Due to unforseen ridiculousness at the airport last night (and/or an airline employee's illiteracy) I found myself re-routed. The original plan was to take off from Kansas City, Missouri (I actually went to Topeka, KS on a business trip - very disappointing on some levels, didn't see cornfields, a bison - their state animal - or a tornado; but very satisfying on another, I got a burger, applesauce, pepsi with cherry flavoring, a coffee and a homemade piece of coconut cream merangue pie for $6) and land at BWI via Chicago. Instead I went via Dallas/Ft.Worth. I had to throw away my Auntie Anne's lemonade before I got on the plane, even though I clearly demonstrated it was not liquid nitrate by taking a few sips and not dying. I was very confused as to which group I was supposed to board with because instead of 1, 2, 3 etc, my ticket said "First". So I waited until they were letting all groups on just to avoid conflict at the gate ("Sorry ma'am, "First" must have been a typo, you're in group 6"). I walk by First Class to find my seat - 2E. I get to coach and start looking. It starts at row 8. Holy CRAP! I think I'm sitting in First Class, hence the "First" listed after group. Of course, at this point I have to back track against the 20 other people behind me trying to fight their way to coach. I finally get settled and realized what an ass I've looked like until this point. I have my back pack with all sorts of flair, my hair is a flat mess, and I'm wearing a "Property of Levenworth" T-shirt that I had bought at the airport because I was cold. No worries though, I didn't care how I looked after the waitress brought me out a pre-flight Jack and Coke while we were still putzing at the gate. I don't think we had quite taken off when I fell asleep in the nicely, proportionately designed chair. The thing in first class is that nobody bothers you. There weren't any crying babies, they let you watch tv (even on the short flights) and you don't have to wrestle with a midget for a blanket. Hot damn, I think I could get used to this.