EWR-HKG Flight 10/31/2010

November 1, 2010 · 2 comments

We’re in the Great White North now, flying just over the Northeast corner of the Hudson Bay.  12:22 left in the flight – hours/minutes, that is.  34k feet, 1621 miles traveled so far.  We’ll be landing in Hong Kong (still 6640 miles away) at 7:14PM local time.  I’m not going to say that I want a cigarette right now because that will get me thinking about having a cigarette and I can’t have one for AT LEAST another 12 fucking hours.  I’m glad I haven’t gotten cranky yet.

I don’t really know what to say, dear reader.  It’s 7:01PM, according to my netbook and body clocks.  I’m in business/first class and the seats are pretty nice.  I’ve got the window seat and the woman in the aisle seat next to me seems pretty selfish.  That’s just a vibe, though.  She just ran to the bathroom and is taking some pills now, so I figure I’d better go take a leak soon, in case those are sleeping pills she’s taking.

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My Polyanna gut says the door opened and closed so quickly because someone’s watching out for me – there’s something better in the works, and that any kind of relationship now would be me taking my eye off the ball.  And the total pessimist part of me says that THIS is the story of my life; THIS is what the psychic in Sedona didn’t want to tell me about – and why she was so sad for me:  that I’m going to spend my life looking for and being open to love and never find it.  Fuck me, if I’m the one who picked this fucking karma, I want to go back in time to that place wherever I was before I returned to the wheel and kick my own ass.  This fucking blows.  Can a honky get some love??  Just a little?  Not fucking hope “which springs eternal” – that shit’s for sissies and idiots who don’t know the difference.  For fuckers who’ll drink the sand.

And I’ll tell ya, dear reader, this morning in the shower I was begging out loud for an opportunity to drink the sand.  Hope.  Bah.  Bunch of care bear bullshit, if you ask me – and even if you didn’t:  I don’t care.  Hope is for pussies.  And I’m dying for it.  Me.

Sure, I know what I want.  But right now it feels like I’m in the middle of the desert a million years ago, talking to some bushman who doesn’t speak English, telling him that all I want in the world is a cherry red convertible 1959 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz:  not only does the guy have no fucking clue what the words are that are coming out of my mouth, there’s really no way I’m going to find that particular Caddy in this particular desert at this particular time.  Like, it doesn’t exist, man.

Fuck, I’ll take a single-speed messenger bike, if it’ll love me back.

Those are probably shitty analogies.  I guess the way I feel (vis-à-vis finding love) right now is more akin to being in a shitty little local used car lot, looking for a particular make and model that’s only manufactured and distributed overseas.  “Yeah, Citröen – with an umlaut.  Over the ‘o’.  Yeah, an umlaut – like two little dots over top of the ‘o’.  Know what I’m talking about?  Do you have one?  In the back?  Yeah, cool, let’s go check it out. . . No. . . no, that’s a dog.  I’m looking for a car.  A Citröen.  Yeah the one with the dots.  Never mind.”  Even the short walk around to the back of the lot was enough to get my blood pumping in anticipation; the thought that maybe I’d found what I’ve been looking for, or at least might be getting closer.

6363 miles left to go.  To Hong Kong, that is.

About halfway there now.  It’s 10:34 in the AM in Hong Kong.  We’re over the arctic, it seems.  3534 miles into the flight.  Yeah, the little plane on the screen is totally enveloped in white – we’ve passed Alaska and the Bering Strait.  Another 8 hours and 37 minutes to go.  I can’t wait to have a cigarette in Hong Kong.

So yeah, if something went wrong at this point, even if we didn’t all die in the crash, we’d sure as hell freeze our asses off in about 5 minutes out there in the presence of Mother Nature.

I just finished reading William Gibson’s Virtual Light.  It was ok.  Nothing special.  It’s been forever since I read Neuromancer, but I remember really digging it.  Possibly because it was really the first cyberpunk book I’d ever picked up.  I finished Count Zero last night, which I thought was pretty good as well.  Much better than Virtual Light.  Gibson seems to be a bit hit-or-miss.  Not much to Virtual Light, in my opinion.  Gibson’s style cuts both ways – in this case, the choppy, disorienting way he writes didn’t serve to plant seeds of thought that there’s a deeper meaning behind each of his words:  I mean, that vibe was there, but for this book, after a while I just didn’t care what those deeper meanings might have  been.  That style really only works when the author actually explains some of the definitions of the terms of art he/she is using.  Maybe one out of five or ten would work; one out of three background stories hinted at.

We’re over Russia now.  It’s 1:30AM ET, 1:30PM HK time.  We’re supposed to land in Hong Kong at 7:12PM local time.  3144 miles left to go.  I started to watch The Last Airbender, but it was horrible.  Way too much of a kids movie for me.  The A-Team was ok.  A couple of parts where I had to stifle a lol.

I’m torn between staying up for another 6 hours – basically pulling an all-nighter – and trying to get a few hours of sleep.

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597 miles to go.  6:05PM; still on schedule to arrive at HKG 7:15AM.  Breakfast was pretty good.  7710 miles traveled so far.  I’m on the right-hand side of the plane, and we’re basically coming South into Hong Kong right now, so I’m watching the sun set out of my window.  It looks like a sunrise.  The land below is in darkness – every once in a while, I see small clusters of lights, but my first impression was that we were flying over water, even though we’re well inland.  The cloud formations are beautiful and diverse.  There are a couple of fireworks shows going on below – I wonder why.  Heck, there’s a whole bunch of ‘em.

I think it’s about time I shut this thing down and pack my stuff up.  We’ll be landing in just about an hour.

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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

melissa November 2, 2010 at 07:15

god your writing about love and karma and sand and cars is just achingly right on. (what amazes and confuses me, tho, is how you quickly you can go from, “THIS is what the psychic in Sedona didn’t want to tell me about – and why she was so sad for me,” into, “This fucking blows. Can a honky get some love??”)

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Jennifer November 2, 2010 at 08:37

As always, I adore your posts.

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