I’m on another plane.

Off to another city and another state for another week.

At least they bumped me up from the cheap seats. That silly little cup of mixed nuts always makes me happy. Yeah I know it’s just a handful of cashews tossed into a microwave, but when you have to spend three to six hours stuck in an aluminum tube next to some fat guy with gas, it’s the little things that count.

You know you fly too much when the gate agent looks at you and inquires why you aren’t going to San Francisco today. And you know you haven’t been home enough when that same gate agent asks why she hasn’t seen me around much lately.

At least this time I’ll get to finally meet her , one of my blog inspirations and the first internet celebrity to ever reach out and touch me after I hung my own digital shingle up on the electronic main street. I suspect I’m going to get a kick in the shins for all the mud I’ve slung at her home state, but honestly, I probably deserve it. For what it’s worth, I’m equal opportunity in my targets. I just like to bitch.

Whether or not I get to spend the rest of the weekend with my family remains to be seen. As much as I would like that, I really think that what remains of my weekend would best be spent on a mountain top or on a rock wall or on a bike trail somewhere. Somewhere warm.

Maybe somewhere in Arizona.