Home again, home again
January 11, 2008
I hate flying. There just isn’t a word I can really describe how I feel about flying, even though I love traveling. If there were a way to rapidly travel without boarding an aircraft and sitting stationary for several hours in seats designed for an averaged size person of the 18th century, I’d be all over it like white on rice. But no, inventing the teleporter would cause all sorts of other societal problems, so we’re forced to languish on planes.
Why do I hate flying so much? Aside from the afore-mentioned leg clot-inducing seats and the tendency to breathe in an entire plane’s passenger compliment worth of germs, the hoops that the TSA makes you jump through are really beginning to irk me. Shoes off? OK, that’s a bit silly. Laptops out of the bag? Er, OK. Toiletries under 3 oz. all in a clear plastic ziploc bag? Seriously, COME ON. No extra batteries for electronic devices? I think someone’s passing rules on a dare, now. It also didn’t help that the power went out in my apartment Friday evening before I got a chance to pack (or eat dinner…thank you, gas oven) and I returned from my trip with a bad cough that I seemed to pick up somewhere between Newark and Portland. And of course, sitting two rows back from what I can only assume was the winner of the colicky baby national championships. So I coughed and I coughed and I’m still coughing. If I had a singing voice at the moment, I’d be a dead ringer for the Man in Black himself, Johnny Cash.
Other than the trials and tribulations of flying, I had a great time with Hanne in Massachusetts. Seeing Dan and Kristine is always fun, and though we didn’t have a lot of time together, we wandered around Concord and Lexington so we could see the battlefields and where “the shot heard ’round the world” was fired, wandered around Cambridge for a bit, and just generally had a good time. Saturday night we got a couple of bottles of wine and made appetizers for dinner: cheese and crackers, bruschetta with Wensleydale cheese and pear, stuffed mushrooms, roasted red peppers, and apples with brie. It was a great evening. Sunday morning we had brunch at a French-Cambodian restaurant called Elephant Wok, which was incredibly good. We all splurged and had brunch cocktails, as well, mine being a “Parisian coffee” with brandy and chambourd. We shared some spring rolls and croissants for appetizers, and I had a ham and cheese omelette–some sort of French cheese that I should remember but don’t–to eat. Delicious!
It was nice seeing Hanne’s parents and brother, too. They have a beautiful house in Plymouth (which despite Reno’s claim, it’s the biggest little city in the world since it’s spread out so much), and we were lucky enough to avoid snow and ice for a fairly mild trip. We drove to Cape Cod and wandered on the beach, we had some nice dinners, and all in all, it was a very relaxing weekend. Hanne’s dog is probably the sweetest and best-behaved dog I’ve ever had the pleasure of spending time with.
Of course, I came home with the afore-mentioned cold, so it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine, dammit. I figured it was just the dry airplane air, but when I kept coughing all night long I knew I was hosed. I didn’t bother going to work on Wednesday, and I only worked a half-day on Thursday. I’m feeling better today, though my throat still hurts from so much coughing. Bleah.
Of course, it could be worse: I could have caught strep and be lying in bed practically crying from the pain that comes with swallowing.
This should continue to be a relaxing weekend, and I have nothing planned except to potentially drive to the nearest Crate and Barrel and spend the gift card that Hanne’s parents gave us to indulge on wine-related accessories. Hanne left her wine stopper at my apartment before she had a toothbrush there, and she finally brought over her nice wine opener, too. We plan on getting a nice set of wine glasses and maybe a decanter, which will create a custody problem if Hanne ever wises up and decides she can do better than me. Ha!
And cooking. I plan on cooking this weekend. Chili to freeze, lasagna to eat, and maybe even something nice-ish to pair with my bottle of Lucky Lab Super Duper Dog and Stone 10th Anniversary Imperial IPA I plan on consuming this weekend. Well, not that chili and lasagna aren’t nice, but I plan on freezing the chili for later consumption and lasagna needs wine for proper serving. A nice chianti, perhaps? Maybe even a Zinfandel in some new wine glasses.
After having watched the latest movie in the Bourne film trilogy (for now), I’ve decided that my childhood dream to be James Bond is no longer accurate. Sure, Bond got the cars, the toys, and the women, but he was always getting his ass captured and he took too long to take out the bad guys. But Bourne? He’s like a razor. He kicks as and doesn’t care about taking names. He just kicks ass and always comes out on top, in addition to his superior skills of, you know, not getting captured. If I were a secret agent of some kind, I’d either want to be Bourne or want Bourne watching my back.
When I first saw a trailer for The Bourne Identity several years ago, I laughed when I saw Matt Damon doing all the martial arts. This was a guy I knew who’d written and starred in Good Will Hunting, had been in Dogma, and was generally a stand-up actor. But an action hero? Matt Damon? Ben Affleck hadn’t done so well with his stint in Armageddon, so I figured Damon would stand out like a sore thumb. Surprisingly, he’s fallen into the role really well, and now that I’d like to see him in more roles like that, I hope he doesn’t get typecast into action roles over his good work in dramas and comedies, as well.
NetFlix provided me with The Fifth Element for this weekend. Great stuff.
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