Unto us...

MERRY CHRISTMAS !!!
MERRY CHRISTMAS !!!

Happy Birthday, Jesus. And Happy Birthday, Broccoli.

Repost:: Airplane Etiquette

Nathan Fillion, Firefly and Waitress hottie, posted this on his Myspace blog today. I thought it was not only fitting for this time of year, but something to keep in mind anytime you travel. This is stuff we all know like the backs of our hands, but seeing it in black and white helps keep it organized in my feeble mind.

So, having done a lot of flying in my time, and a whole lot in recent months, I've noticed a lot of things one can do to make travel more comfortable and pleasant experience. Again, we can apply the simple principle of CCR. Consideration, Courtesy, and Respect. I've tried to boil it down to some simple practices that are certain to make your trip better.

The first thing I want to bring to your attention, is look around the airport when you are traveling. How many people do you see are actually joyous with the prospect of a flight? Unless folks are flying to someplace tropical, I've noticed that the prevailing attitude is one of torture. I'm not saying there isn't a whole lot wrong with the system, getting screwed by airlines, etc, but is it really so bad? Put yourself in another mind set. Enjoy your journey.

Start with a well planned trip. If you don't want to battle traffic, or wake up early, try for a later flight. Be packed the day before. Make a list of everything you'll need, and check it. My preference is to pack light so I don't have to check luggage.


Get up early. Be awake and relaxed with lots of time.

Be clean. You are going to be around a lot of people. Be sure that your B.O. or breath does not offend. THIS IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. (This is actually a daily responsibility, just more important in small, closed spaces like a plane.) Bring gum.

Dress well. This does not mean you have to wear a suit, but how you present yourself directly affects how others will deal with you, and you will be dealing with people all day. Put yourself together, but comfortably. If it's a long, long flight, dress in something you can sleep in, but something NICE you can sleep in.

Be organized. Have what you need where you need it. Be ready! You are smart enough to handle it. Tickets and passports in the boarding pass line. Boarding pass in pocket at security. Gels and liquids in a bag and a separate place easy to reach. Shoes and metal bits easily removed. Show the kind of hustle you want to see from the people in line in front of you when you are late for a flight.

Boarding the plane, have a bag that will actually fit in the spaces provided so you can put it away, sit down, and let other people continue to board and have room for their items, too. When you make that last minute call, avoid loud talking. (This is also an everyday responsibility. How much do you want to hear half of someone else's conversation shouted beside you? CCR.)

Your space. Especially for us big guys, flights can be tough because of how little space is provided for our enormous frames. For shoulder space, favor the side that has no one on it. Don't lean the seat back if the person next to you has if you can help it. As for legs? Avoid spreading them like you got some big business down there. Cross your legs below the knee. You'll be surprised.

Avoid grossness. If you have a sniffle or cough, bring tissue. Don't ask those around you to put up with constant snorting. That's really crass. Really.

Getting up. We all have to do it, but be smart. How much do you like it when someone starts wrestling with the back of your seat? It's not your "get up handle", it's a chair that someone else is sitting in. Leave them alone! Use the back of your OWN chair to get in and out of your row. You can also use the backs of the chairs of the folks in your row, as you are already disturbing them by getting up. EXCUSE YOURSELF! Say, "Pardon me." or, "I apologize." Don't be embarrassed into being rude to people. We are all in this together. This also applies when using the seat back pocket. Someone's back is right up against it. There's no steel plate protecting them from you jamming oblong objects and water bottles in there. Be cool. CCR.

Kids on a plane. Babies cry. That's it. That's all. Don't be sour, give the parents a dirty look, or let out an exasperated sigh. You were a baby once. You cried, too. Afford mothers traveling alone every courtesy. EVERY courtesy. Parents of children on planes: Do not bring forty different toys for you child, do not bring a toy that beeps and toots constantly. Come on, now. Really. Keep your kids behaved, using inside voices, and stop them from kicking the seat in front of them. CCR. For families traveling together, always give up your seat if it keeps them together. This includes couples, old or young.

Thank your captain and crew. If it was a smooth ride, say so.

When waiting your luggage, unless you want to give a hand, get out of the way when someone is grabbing theirs.

Enjoy your stay!

I hope these simple steps and ideas help you and those around you to better enjoy your trip, most importantly, your journey. Be kind to each other out there!

Shutterbugs

I swear this blog won't become a 'Best of You Tube' showcase, but I had to share this:



You might know Rob Huebel & Aziz Ansari from "Human Giant" on MTV, really the only reason someone over the age of 30 should ever watch that channel. Rob is an incredibly talented Improv actor, and Aziz is a terrific stand-up. Together, they're Shutterbugs, the best children's talent agency in the business. Watch all three clips here and see what I'm talking about.

Union, Norma Rae, Union!

In concert with writer and fellow blogger Broccoli, here is a funny, yet somewhat informative, video of the WGA strike courtesy of the writers from The Office. They're even clever when they picket.

WOOOHOOOO!!!!

Getty Images

And how was YOUR Sunday night?

Still a little tipsy and possibly nauseous from beer and jumping up and down for joy. I'm not having another brew - or chicken fingers - for the rest of the year.

Special shout-out once again to Joy for fashioning me with a championship hat in 2004. It's my favorite cap and I wore the crap out of it in the post-season; it's now drying out after having champagne sprayed on it at the bar.

A little something to take the edge off

Ok, you bitter fuckers, I know we're in a time of war and global warming and a shitty administration blahblahblah, and reading Zach's blog lately is enough to put us all on suicide watch, but the next time you're convinced the world is going to hell, watch this video:



As long as there are puppies, everything will be ok.

Also, more blog entries updating you on my life to be posted soon, I promise.

All Things Bright and Beautiful

My little niece, Teagan, was born today at 3:25 pm PST. Six pounds, 10 ounces and 20 inches of perfection. And she's healthy. She's healthy. There is a God, and He is good.

Some pig, some ecards

If you've ever wanted to send a thoroughly inappropriate ecard to someone, I highly recommend someecards.com. I had a ball reading them at work one afternoon (and emailing them out).

Thanks?

Among the recommendations from Amazon.com for me:

"Gilmore Girls: Season Six"

"Thank You For Smoking"

and this:


Really Amazon?

New Year, New Men, New Material

Sometimes I wish I WAS a comedian so I could go on stage and make jokes from the things that happen in my life.

I put up a post on Craigslist yesterday looking for dates. I did this last fall and lost interest, so I thought, hey, I'm about to turn 33, I better get that sucker in before I start to look old on paper. So I put it up the day before the big change.

If you can connect the dots, today is my birthday.

I thought I'd post a few of the responses I got back for your reading pleasure (no dick shots - amazing). To fill you in, the title was "I Don't Have Cats", to indicate that while I was in my early 30s, I'm not a crazy, lonely cat lady who watches her box sets of Ally McBeal and eats Lean Cuisine for dinner.

Enjoy.

Sounds great and since I am allergic to cats that's a plus. I like that you say from friends to a full blown relationship. The relieves any pressure as men are different or at least I am when its based on friendship. Are you going to hold it against me that I drive the typical Black BMW? Oh ya I hate scotch

I wrote back a little something to this guy that I'd overlook the BMW and the scotch thing is fine as long as he doesn't mind that I'll be drinking it. He wrote back:

Just no kisses from me if you are drinking that sht

Awesome.

Here's another, titled "Hay":

What’s up with you? Me I just want to chat so drop me a line and we can talk. I’m from Texas. I smoke and drink. I’m white 5'11. My home is in Texas but I am currently living and working in Manhattan Beach, CA. I have been married to a black woman for three years and the thing is I have been day dreaming about white girls so much lately I just cant stand it no more. I really don’t know anything else to do about it except just doing it. I mean this is the perfect opportunity to get it out of my system while I am in here CA. and she is back in Texas. There is one problem. I am working six and seven days a week so there’s no time to meet any girls. So here I am. Drop me a line if you would like to be with a good guy with a long thick wand, yes it really is and I know how to use it very well for a white guy you will fall in love with me. Email me and we'll start by exchanging more pix and chat a while.

Another:

hi there:

i like ur ad.

Shortly about me: Educated, Classy, Humorous,
Sporty, Handsome: 6'4"-5", fit, Dark Hair, Blue
Eyes, White. Intelligent, Decisive, 29 year.
Strong personality.

My schedule is busy. I don't have so much time for
playing games or wasting time. Please drop me a line
back; and tell
me a bit more about urself what you do. please send
me a photo i will send you mine. let us tray to
catchup.

Mik

What a charmer, and I'm pretty sure he didn't even spell his own name right.

I certainly like a good time in and out of bed. Im 42 in N Hollywood, 5-8, brown hair/eyes, 170
Send photo please if you have. if theres chemistry maybe we can be friends+more ?

Woo, I said, woohoo.

You have perfect spelling and I find that attractive in itself. I'm a
successful Ivy League advance degreed professional on the west side.

Now, I have to admit I'm a sucker for good spelling, grammar, and punctuation, so I kind of get where this guy is coming from, but it won't stop me from making fun of him, starting with the fact that this is ALL HE SENT. No greeting, no sign off, this is it. So apparently he's hot over my use of the English language, but he's not so into writing proper correspondence.

Hi, My name is James, I am a white male, 6'3", 215lbs., blue eyes, short brown hair, and no facial hair. I am Hiv-negative and never had any STD's. I keep myself clean and I shower twice a day. I am a non-smoker, but it is okay if you smoke. I rarely drink and I am not into drugs.

I do have a cat and I also feed the other cats in the nieghborhood.

The last movie I seen was called Zodiac and I seen it at the theatre in Burbank two weeks ago. I am open to most kinds of music, but I really do not listen to most Rap music.

If we were to have sex, I believe in oraly pleasing the woman first.

James

Cleanliness is not next to...well, really anything else I'd like to date that you don't have, James. But bravo for your stance on eating me out.

And for the piece de resistance:

I like to singa about tha moon uh tha June uh and spring uh.I like to singa about a tea for two and tha sky a blu anythinga with uh swinga to sing I luv you.I thought its a funny song but yo my is ruben and I dig music cars ,motorcycles vespas and coffee I dont usually drink but I am not afraid to drink a stout.anywhoo I figured in a perfect world I found friends are the tru love..

Thanks Ruben. I like to sing about the moon in June as well....with the lesbian I'll now be dating because there's no way in hell I'm going out with any of these losers.

What I'm Up To

I can't figure out how to add that wiget like Joy has on her blog that lists all the stuff I'm into right now, so I'm just going to add it here:

First of all, I love hyperlinks. I try to find an excuse to use them in almost every personal email. They're so fun and interactive.

I'm reading Lunar Park by Bret Easton Ellis. I don't think a lot of people get why I like him and Jay McInerney as much as I do, so I rarely recommend them. I've devoured everything BEE has written, but it's taken me a year and a half to finally get into this. Now I'm crazy about it. It combines a lot of elements from past books, so if you're a fan, it's a real payoff.

I'm listening to Money Mark's new album, Brand New By Tomorrow. He's the keyboardist for the Beasties. It's a lot different than what you think he'd do. For one thing, he sings on it. I'm not on board with everything on there, but there's some stuff worth checking out. My friend and drum teacher, John, played on the Japanese version.

Watching: way too much TV. I'm on the fence about getting rid of cable. I should keep it to keep up with Comedy Central, but it sucks me in way too easily.

Thinking: I need a vacation. I'm seriously fried from work and the anger and tension has built up to where it's affecting me after hours. I'm going to AZ this weekend to see my Dad, which is good since I really need to get away. A simple weekend just isn't doing it anymore.

Cooking - I want to try Larb. It's Thai and really good at Toi, one of my favorite places in LA. You can make it with different meats, but I like it with ground beef. It uses a lot of lime juice and spices. I still haven't figuered out what you eat it with (bread? crackers?) but it's really tasty.

Oh-fer Cute!

I'm trying to figure out how to finish my Chinese restaurant rant to post here. In the meantime, here's a photo of a baby otter, courtesy of the LA Times:

Gone, Daddy, Gone

I love Asian food. I mean, I really love Asian food. Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese, Japanese...love it. I could eat any one of those at least once a day and not get sick of it.

I'm also not so great about cooking at home. I actually know how to cook, and I'm not bad, but by the time I've fought my way through my job for 9-10 hours, a lot of times I'm pooped by the time I get home. So do the math - this means I order in a lot. And often times, you guessed it, it's Asian, and most likely Chinese.

I don't even know how I stumbled across the Chinese place I've used for the last, geez, seven...eight years, but they've been my mainstay, so much so that the lady who answered the phone knew my voice (is that pathetic or comforting? I'm still not sure). I probably ordered from them at least once every two weeks. Again, do the math - I know that place very well.

Recently, I deduced that they changed hands and now have a new owner. I started to pick up on it around Christmas. I called to order Kung Pao something and the lady didn't answer. It was some new chick who I had to explain everything to (no, I know it's already spicy, I want it extra spicy, and no white onions). And the dishes I usually ordered were delivered to me with new things in them. Green peppers in the Kung Pao? Snow peas in the Garlic Chicken? Tasty, but different.

And now, after repeated attempts to get a hold of them this weekend and no answer, I went down there, like a concerned friend, to see if everything was ok. Sure enough, they're remodeling.

Is nothing sacred???

Reunited (and yes, it felt SO good)

Did anyone catch the Grammys last night? I'm guessing not, since no one I know ever watches it. I hadn't watched it myself since Jon Stewart hosted (mmmmm, Jon Stewart), but the reunion of The Police hooked me this year.

They opened the show (good move, Recording Academy, since we'd all just skip to their part anyway) with Roxanne, not my favorite song, but like I'm going to be picky. Stewart Copeland looked the happiest I've ever seen him, and even Sting seemed pleased. They're holding a press conference today, most likely announcing a tour and maybe even a new album. Between that and the reunited Van Halen (avec Diamond Dave), I don't know what I'm going to do with myself, other than sell some plasma to pay for the tickets.

Other highlights:

Dixie Chicks were 5 for 5, award-wise. I've always liked them, country or pop. I really need to get that album. Does everything Rick Rubin touches turn to gold? I really like their "I'm Not Ready To Be Nice" song. Yeah, take that, "W" - we have strong words AND a violin!

Justin Timberlake: if someone told me five years ago that I'd be a fan, I would have slapped them silly. Are you kidding me? But he was all OVER the show, kicking butt every which way. He does have soul, and he can play the guitar and piano, AND HE CAN DANCE. Plus, he was involved in an American Idol-esque contest they held to find a singer to perform a duet with him. If it was as impromptu as they suggested (apparently folks on the east coast got to vote and they announced it live on the show), he did a great job of incorporating her into his performance on the fly. He's really matured as an artist and he's just an all-around pro.

The Chili Peppers won. I love that album. I love them.

I'll avoid mentioning the lowlights (Stevie Wonder's suit? That's just mean to do that to a blind man).




photo courtesy of http://www.signonsandiego.com/

Fucking Far Side...

...always crackin me up.




courtesy of http://www.buffnet.net

Widdle Fuzzy Babies

While this year's Super Bowl promises to be a good one, this weekend always brings about another favorite past time of mine: Puppy Bowl! Read about it here if you're not familiar. They run it all day.

I'm-a stayin put, thanks

Annnnd we're back. Or at least I am, in LA. My holidays were good overall, however peppered with the worst travel luck I've ever had.

It started with Denver Blizzard #1. I was set to leave here on Dec 21st, but Mother Nature had other plans and brought the flakes the day before. I got a call from Amy first, then my Dad telling me I should check out Frontier's site as I probably wasn't coming in the next day. I immediately called their 800#, which five days later was STILL busy. I gave up and decided to go straight to the ticket counter at LAX to see if I could resolve this in person.

Once I got there, the lone woman handling all the requests was just closing up but had enough time to tell me that Frontier wouldn't be able to get me on a flight for sure until Christmas day. CHRISTMAS DAY! A guy I was in line with made the excellent suggestion that Southwest still had some pre-Christmas flights and to just book with them. I went online immediately after getting home and started looking at one-way flights on other airlines and came up with about five total, each around $800-$1,000. I went to Southwest and found a few options on Christmas Eve morning for the low, low price of $232. Not great, but not horrible. Frontier had promised a refund anyway, so I wasn't out too much, net.

Traveling that day went fairly well. I got home in the afternoon and had a nice Christmas the next day with my Dad. I went to a party later on and saw some folks from Cheyenne and drank too much (blech) and left early the next morning for Nebraska to see my Mom. Traveling that day went pretty well, too. DIA was pretty nuts, but without incident. My Mom and I had some nice time together doing all the things we normally do: Target, shopping, movies, cooking. She and Dad definitely contributed to the couple of pounds I gained in the last few weeks, but can you pass up home cooked meals? Mmmmm. Time to pull out the ipod for more walking during lunch.

Pretty much after I'd gotten to NE I started hearing stories of another blizzard hitting Denver later in the week. I was set to leave on Saturday night to spend NYE in SF, plans that Dru and I had made months in advance. One of the guys that my agency reps was performing at Cobbs, a legendary club and one of the best in the country, with some other comics who I really like as well. After spending the last several 12/31sts in the Midwest, I felt I owed it to myself to a good one this year. So needless-to-say, after hearing news of another storm in the very place I had a layover had me a little nervous.

As the week closed out, it seemed that the storm hit at just the right time and that everything would be fine by the time I got there. I kept checking Frontier's site even hours before just to make sure no changes had been posted, and everything looked fine. I arrived at the Omaha airport and again, had no problems with the ticket line or security. I spent my extra time at the gate chatting on my cell with a friend to kill time. Then it started to get close to boarding time and the incoming plane had yet to arrive. It finally did just a few minutes late and the nice guy behind the gate counter assured me that I'd make my 50 minute connection in Denver with no problem. After a little while longer, things still weren't moving along and they announced that the engine wasn't starting on its own and they needed to call a mechanic.

Awesome. Mechanical problems. And that's where the shit started flying.

I pretty much knew at that point that I wouldn't make the plane in Denver to SF. Ok, fine. Let's fly me out on the next day. Nope, no dice. All the flights from Omaha to Denver were booked solid, and even the flights from Denver to SF looked full as well. ON ALL CARRIERS. So my choice was to stay in NE for New Years and not get to San Francisco at all, or take this flight (once they got the engine fixed - FUN!), stay overnight in a hotel they provided and hope that they could get me on a flight to SF the next day, which wasn't looking likely. I had to decide this within a matter of minutes since they'd fixed the plane at this point and were boarding the folks who were going to Denver. I chanced it and thought at the very least I could spend NYE with Amy and her husband Steve and their dogs, whose time was shafted when I couldn't get there on the 21st. Not a bad Plan B.

But still nerve wracking as I had no idea what to expect in Denver. I've never been stranded in a city before where hotels and meal vouchers were concerned. Even though I knew Denver and knew people there, for whatever reason I felt really alone and uncertain and I'll admit, I just wanted my Mommy. Before I left I was ready to just scrap the whole thing and stay in Lincoln in her nice house with her dogs where it was safe and I didn't have to make hard decisions on the spot. I do that at work all the time; isn't this what a vacation is for?

Thankfully, the plane got there safely and once I arrived at the Customer Service counter, they'd already rebooked me on a flight to SF on United. All I had to do was give them my name and they had a packet ready for me with a hotel coupon and a meal voucher for the next morning, and an itinerary with my new flight. The reservations were made and all I had to do was call the shuttle service for the hotel. Frontier scored points for that; it couldn't have been easier.

Only thing was, I didn't get to the hotel until close to midnight and my flight was for 6AM, which meant going back to DIA at 3:30AM and almost no sleep. Still, the hotel was really nice (Stapleton Renaissance - I highly recommend it) with a bed that was amazing and would have been even better if I'd had more time to enjoy it (such a tease). Once I dumped my stuff I called room service, because how many times do I get a room to myself? I placed an order and then immediately cancelled because, duh, it was midnight and I needed as much sleep as possible. I found a vending machine downstairs because the restaurant had JUST closed and tried to get some crackers, but of course it wanted exact change. I was willing to forgo whatever extra I had to pay JUST TO GET SOME GODDAMN CRACKERS!! At some point, things fall so out of sorts you question what THE FUCK you did to the universe to deserve this. That said, I did finally get some crackers after a nice cleaning person gave me a dime.

As I was walking back to my room I was thinking that it's situations like this that become defining moments: an optimist would think, "hey, at least I got to spend Christmas with my Dad and I spent some good time with my Mom and I was on a confirmed flight the next day, and spending the night in a nice hotel that I wasn't paying for." The pessimist would think, "Goddammit, of course the fucking plane had problems and made me miss my flight and I have to deal with this crap and now I won't get any sleep and it's fouling up my plans in San Francisco!". At that point, I had no idea which side I fell on.

Then, things got even worse.

I "woke up" (really, just rested instead of slept) at 2:45 AM and showered and got myself to the lobby at 3:30 after waiting for the missing bellman to take my bags down (I'm not that much of a diva, but I was exhausted and so over hauling around 40lbs of luggage) and was told that the shuttle guy was warming up the van and would come in to let me know he was leaving. Of course this didn't happen and I had to sit around for the 4 AM pickup. After being dropped off, DIA was busy. At 4:30 AM. I was turned away at sky cap and sent to a special line for United serviced by the surliest bull-dyke ever. I mean, seriously, I know you have to be up at an ungodly hour for your job, but have you been wronged so much today already that you have to give me an attitude? She started to look up my ticket that had been promised to me by Frontier ("no, you don't need a record locator. Just give them your name and show them your itinerary and you'll be all set.") and as expected, nothing.

Excuse me?

I stammered that back what Frontier had told me about being rebooked and what my experience the night before was. She barked at me to give her whatever paperwork I had and then tapped away at her computer for what seemed like the longest four minutes ever. Bingo! She found it. Good. All set. I gladly passed over my luggage to her and went on my way.

I approached the security area (yeah, if you've been in DIA, it's not just a line, but a series of lines akin to Space Mountain, that takes up a sizable chunk of the airport) and started to move my way through. As I scanned my ticket so I could see with my own eyes in black and white that I did have something concrete that proved that I would reach my destination (or at least attempt to), I noticed four S's on both the main portion of my ticket as well as the tab and my heart sank once again.

To back up a bit, I make time whenever I go back to Cheyenne to visit out neighbors down the street. I babysat their kids way back in the day and they're really neat people, plus they're nearby, so it's not that much of an effort. The Dad, Dick, has flown for American for about 30 years and whenever I talk to him, air travel comes up, especially since 9/11. He made a point as we talked this time to mention this "tag", the four S's, telling me that this is what the security people look for in their random checks. Yup, I was tagged, and would have to go through the special screening (coincidence, huh?).

As I approached the front, I was told to move to the side to the special line. They took my carry-on from me (the only questionable items being the steaks I brought back from Nebraska for Dru, so thankfully no contraband)and placed me in a Star Trek-looking screener that included plastic doors to sequester me for about 90 seconds. Six nozzles came out and sent strong poofs of air, hitting me at different places to show any suspicious bulges, I assume. I was released and watched them go through my bag, wiping down almost everything inside, which took several minutes.

Finally they set me free. I still had my meal voucher from the night before, so I got into the McDonald's line once I arrived at my terminal (mmmmm, McMuffin). Of course, the Goddamn Fucking Swiss Family Retarded Robinson was in front of me, with the Dad encouraging little Timmy or whateverthefuck his name was to order for everyone and their Mormon brother. Timmy's all, "I'll have an, um......Egg McMuffin and a....orange juice and some....hash browns..." This went on for a few minutes, I swear to God. Keep in mind that time was precious and it was by some grace of God that I got on this flight in the first place, so to miss it (I had about 20 minutes at this point) would be, um, not good.

I got my food and scarfed it down at the gate (I hate bringing food on planes and hate it when others do, especially fast food) and boarded. Of course I had a middle seat next to a woman around my age who was very nice, and Jerry Garcia with a fanny pack who refused to share his arm rest. Whatever, I was on my way to SF.

THEN (are you getting tired of reading this yet? can't believe this has gone on this long? Imagine fucking LIVING IT. WITHOUT SLEEP!) the plane sits around for an hour to board some last minute luggage (keep this tidbit in mind because it'll be ironic in just about a second). Nice. Again, whatever. I'm gonna get there. We land and I make my way to baggage and....wait. And.....my bag...isn't....there.

EX-FUCKING-CUSE ME??

Now, you'd think at this point any normal person would have gone apeshit ballistic. I mean, scroll up and review what I've gone through. And take MY temper into account. With no sleep. But really, I was calm, or rather, resigned. I just didn't have any fight in me. So I went to the United baggage claim area to figure out what the shit was going on. What happened was the bull-dyke at DIA tried to check my bag through to LA (on Frontier), even though I wasn't going there for another two days, and if everything was still on schedule, wouldn't have landed in SF until a half hour PAST the time the LA flight was supposed to leave anyway. So then it became, where's the bag? United or Frontier? I went back and forth from the United terminal to Frontier's roundtrip twice (in case you were wondering, they're exactly on the opposite sides of SFO from each other. fun.). The Frontier people, who were very cool, kept an eye out for anyone from United who was trying to transfer over my bag to one of their flights, and after two and half hours, it finally turned up. I grabbed it, got into a cab (really didn't care if it'd cost me $50) and got to Dru's.

We relaxed for a few minutes and made our way to Mama's, my all-time favorite restaurant, where his friend Jeff was holding a place in line. I feasted on eggs and sweet breads and juice, went back and took a nap, and by the time I was up it felt like I'd been through a dream. Did this really all happen within the last 24 hours?

We went to Cobbs and saw one of the best comedy shows I've ever seen. Everyone was hilarious, we had a prime table reserved for us, rang in 2007, and got to hang with Greg (my client) after the show for a while. We managed to snag a cab and went to a NYE party hosted by a friend of some friends, hopped over to another party at the other comedy club where everyone who was in town for the shows gathered, chatted with some folks, and got home a little after 4AM. And laid around the entire next day.

I made it back to LA that Tuesday morning almost without incident (I was told the wrong carousel for my bag and caught it just as they were carting it away to the unclaimed bag area). And here I've stayed ever since.