I'm sitting in row seven, seat 'C' of a Boeing 737. I'm on the second leg of my trip from New York to Spokane...having just pulled out of Chicago about 30 minutes ago. A muddled version of Coldplay's "Lost" is somehow simultaneously blaring, yet not nearly loud enough in these pile-of-shit headphones I stole off the plane from earlier today.

They call my section of the plane "Economy Plus" on United Airlines. I don't see much of any kind of 'plus' side. These seats are just as uncomfortable, the typical musky scent of every airplane I've ever been on is just as apparent and even though I'm sitting next to some little kid, I feel like I haven't the slightest bit of room for my shoulders. I'm sure the last part is completely mental though...I feel like my body slips into an abyss of terrible posture when flying - and that's in all situations related to the activity. Ticketing, waiting, boarding, seating, sleep[ish]ing. It's like my body knows I'm going to be uncomfortable today, so it might as well just play the fucking game.

Oh - now don't worry...the child next to me is asleep...safe from exposure to my obscene usage of the English language. I know you must be concerned.

The worst part about flying somewhere on a whim is the serious lack of flight availability. Non-stops are non-existant if not thousands of dollars...and when you're flying cross-country...your chances of having any time for yourself in the day are up there with winning the jackpot on a 'Hot 5's' scratch ticket. I suppose I did get the long end of the stick with this flight, though. First off...I didn't pay for it, but secondly...flying from the east coast to the west, at least gives you that sense of traveling back in time. I left New York at 5:30 this evening...had a two-hour layover in Chicago...and I'll arrive in Spokane by 10:30...not too bad versus leaving the west coast at 7AM and pulling into JFK at 5PM. Daylight-savings is the only time I like jumping into the future...my internal clock is fucked enough as it is.

Don't ask why I'm flying to Spokane right now...I don't fully understand it myself.

Just for fun, I'm going to be a tad big-headed and say fate wants to give the rest of the big city a chance to prepare itself for my return. I'm heading back to New York in October - again with "Satellites" - and when I'm back, I'm coming out with fists-a-flying.

Now, on with flying...fuck these mini pretzels. I don't feel like flooding my system with tasteless sodium followed by attempts to flush it out with half-pint cups of airplane water - that only leads to one thing:

The airplane bathroom.

A person my size - has very little chance of using the airplane bathroom successfully (that is, as in avoiding getting stuck, or usually worse - missing). I've missed before in one of those bathrooms. Also, once in the bathroom on the boat shuttle from Long Beach to Catalina...sudden jarring movements and trying to use your penis don't often mix well. I can't even shit in a small bathroom without having to figure a way out of taking the blame for...whatever...but I digress...

People know when you've missed.

There's always a line for the airplane bathroom...and if the folks behind you enter to a wet wall and even a drop of pee in the sink...they're going to let everyone know there's been an attack on the bathroom - and you are the only one to blame. And so...I'll avoid my mini pretzels for the time being...and try to ignore the ridiculous reality that is a day of flying.

In keeping with my usual pattern of writing whatever seems to come to mind - looking out the window of my airborne cage-of-safety, I can't help but think...the human race just bent over and fucked our earth in the ass. But...the residual cum-stain we've left on the planet produces the most gorgeous of colors in the atmosphere - myriad colors rarely seen in the same place. It's wonderful.

I've got two more hours to pass...I'm going to keep chasing the sun...and maybe I'll play the poking game with the old woman sitting in front of me.