8 September 2010

12:42 PM (4:42 AM California time)

London

As I got on the place I was asked to switch seats. I did gladly. That meant that I had absolutely nothing to do all flight, as my bags were up above. I did get my ipod out of my bag, and my journal, but having no pen it was useless.

I can’t sleep on flights. But back to that later.

They served a weird Indian dinner that was kind of evil tasting, but I nibbled on the sweet/cheese stuff. I then proceeded to watch Surf’s Up and Clash of the Titans.

Clash of the Titans had everyone in it. I mean, everyone who you can’t name but you see in movies anyway. It had the cute Bobo tribute, but he should have stayed in the movie. RELEASE THE KRACKEN. Hades should have been more badass (played by Ralph Fiennes—in his best Voldemort impression.) I recommend Surf’s Up. No joke. It is witty, hilarious, and reminds me of most people I know. James Woods. The Dude is the Dude in everything he does.

Sleeping has always been a hobby of mine, which is why I am so sad on overseas flights. I tried, friends. I tried so hard. I even took a sleeping pill, which only made me stoned. How does one sleep sitting up? I got into this weird fetal position and tried to shut my eyes, only getting weird looks from the brits around me. The only time I remember sleeping was in the last three hours of the flight, which didn’t do me any favors. Of course, I missed the coffee, but I was awake for the yogurt. I AM RUNNING ON FOUR HOURS. MAYBE 3.

The Brit airlines always have a mixed race couple as the parents of their mixed race child. Progressive. Or, you know, I’m horribly underexposed to it.

I also met with someone who claims to be going there as a freshman, but is from Davis. Weeeeird. I didn’t get her name.

I envy people in first class. They don’t have thump thump on the back of their seat, and when you’re ready to scream at the little s#!%head for interrupting the precious few minutes you’re comfortable to sleep, it turns out to be an old man adjusting his knees. Either that, or he was just a bitter old man. There was also a flight attendant from Glasgow. The nice Indian man next to me gave me his shoulder to slump on when I started hallucinating.

Panty pads. Now I’m in London, foggy, rainy London. Just like I left foggy, rainy San Francisco. I’m going to try and find some coffee. RIGHT NOW.