notwork!

(posted at 3:28 chicago time. assuming the Hilton’s notwork lets me post.)

9:30am, or 6:30, if you’re an Alaskan in transit who’s been up all night…

Haven’t been able to find a wireless network yet. You’d think an airport this size, with nine zillion Starbucks, would have hotspots all over. But none of the Starbucks are sit-down places, at least not that I’ve seen, and the only network I can pick up requires a security key. Sigh. Oh well.

I sat next to a chatty Irishman on the plane on the way down. :) Nice guy, last name of Mallon, and his people are from Tyrone. He told me he had, in fact, once walked from Pomeroy, my grandfather’s birth village, to his own hometown, ’cause he’d gotten stuck in Pomeroy for some reason. :) I gave him a copy of THE CARDINAL RULE, making him assume my people were from Mayo, because the name on that one is Dermody. I can’t actually remember where my grandmother’s people were from (I think Galway?), but I’m pretty sure it was the west, anyway. So that was cool. :)

And I even slept some. Maybe even most of the flight, at least drowsing and I actually slept for at least a couple hours.

*laugh* There’s a four year old going through picking up the pay phones and handing them to her toddling sister, who crows, “Hiiii!” into the phone each time. *laugh* Pretty darned cute. There’s also a businessman in jeans who looked at the little one like she was some sort of unpleasant vermin who’d gotten too close to him. Hrmph. She’s a cutie. :)

So anyway, no upgrading; the flight was totally full. Feh. I thought–especially after I got into Chicago and was told tonight’s flight is totally full, too–that I’d just go over to the Hilton and hang the expense and stay there for a few hours and sleep and shower an stuff. So I went over and they said they had rooms available, but everything was being cleaned and I should come back around 9am. Well, for God’s sake, 8 hours in a room was barely worth the cost of admission. 5 hours certainly wasn’t. So I came back to the airport and changed clothes in a bathroom stall and washed up some and now I’m just kinda putting one foot in front of the other until I go back to the Hilton and meet Trent for dinner. O’Hare is one of those unfriendly airports that has arm rests between every seat, so you can’t stretch out and sleep. Bastards.

I am tempted to go buy one a little MP3 player and noise-cancelling headphones, and download a bunch of music from my laptop to the player so I can zone out on the plane to Ireland. The noise-cancelling headphones sound so nice, which is to say, the idea seems pleasant. I’ve never actually used them. Wonder if I’ve got much good restful music on this thing…well, hm. I’ve got a couple things of gregorian chants, and some new agey stuff that’s … well, you know. New-agey. Lorena McKennitt. The Beauty and the Beast soundtrack (tv, not film). Titanic and Princess Bride…yah. I’ve got a fair bit of instrumental stuff. Huh. Maybe I’ll do that. *sleepy eyes* After all, I don’t get any upgrades or any hotel. *sigh*

*laugh* Somebody else discovered the outlet I’m using. Muahahaha, we have all the power. Muahahaha. :) *stares at the guy’s coffee* Maybe I should get some hot chocolate. Even though Starbucks’ hot chocolate isn’t as good as Kaladi.

*yawn* Let’s see. I saw the Angles commission painting that Ellen’s working on (it’s in the pencils stage now), and I think it’s going to be very neat. :) Oh, and I was flipping through the Alaska Airlines magazine and saw an ad featuring Carmen Schwartz, the Kenai girl who grew up to be a famous model who I inadvertantly described Jo after (they’re identical, except Jo outweighs Carmen by thirty pounds, I’d guess. But same height, same eye color, same essential build, same everything, right down to the freckles). So I contacted the PR department for the company the ad was for and was given another number to call, which I did, and left a voice mail. Hopefully I’ll be able to find out her modeling agency and get in contact with her. That’d be kinda neat. :)

Yeah, ok. Maybe some hot chocolate and another while spent staring lustfully at the teensy MP3 players. Anything to get me up on my feet and moving again, ’cause the sleepies are overtaking me.