Determined as I was to downgrade my first-class ticket this morning (and pocket the difference as a United Airlines voucher), the flight was full … so I had to sit up front with the important people. It’s only the third time in my life that I’ve flown first class, and I think the only thing I really like about it is getting porcelain plates and saucers. I fell asleep nearly immediately, and woke up to catch the scene in Stranger Than Fiction that makes me cry.
“You’re asking me to face my certain death.” I cried again on the plane, unapologetically.
I landed in Austin and was told that my bags were gone. This is the fourth time in a row that my luggage has been misplaced on a flight, so it didn’t really bother me. I’ve got a breathtaking view of some river out the window at the Four Seasons, and I’m dropping all this information because of how ridiculous the pomp of advertising is. Or maybe it’s SAG; after another commercial, I’m going to have to pay them 2200 dollars. It’s because of those dues that I get to fly first class. Something about the system seems a little deformed.
My thoughts are all jumbled. My writing is impatient. I’m going to go get some food.