Tom |
An irregular blog.
The previous post is Tokyo (August 20).
The next post is San Francisco (August 22).
I also have a photo gallery that I'm not sure what to do with.
Comics:
Achewood,
Day By Day,
Gunnerkrigg Court,
I CAN HAS CHEEZBURGER,
Not From Concentrate,
Penny Arcade,
Strongbad's Email,
Sunday Morning Breakfast Cereal,
The Perry Bible Fellowship,
Xkcd,
Music:
Blentwell,
DI.fm,
Soma.fm,
Tokion FM,
Spacing Guild:
Craig, Dave, Eric, Evan, Josh, Katie, Matt, Nick, Phil, Tony, Yin,
Blogs:
Asymmetrical Information,
Baby Bunia Chronicles,
Boysbriefs,
Church of the Masses,
CQG,
Eidos,
Eve Tushnet,
Free Exchange,
Giveawayboy,
Glitter For Brains,
Heretical Ideas,
Εν αÏ?χη ην ο Λογος,
James Lileks,
Jimbo.Info,
Joe. My. God.,
John Heard,
Ling the Merciless,
Little Yellow Different,
Merrilee's Overseas Travels 2010,
Sed Contra,
Sinobling,
The John Larroquette Project,
The Neutral Corner,
This Blog Sits at the,
Thomas P.M. Barnett,
Waiter Rant,
Ze Frank,
Hikers:
Bigfoot (that's me!)
Magaroni
Stanimal
Walk On
feeds: ,
Rob leaves early for work; I leave later at noon for the airport. In the morning I did laundry, watched Desperado (failing to find Spirit aka Fearless, and struggled without success to burn a photo DVD. At the very end I was logged onto AIM and touched base with a couple friends in the states. Aside from copying a couple phone numbers into my notebook and charging my phone now that I have it again, I did nothing essential—and had nothing essential to do. Except catch a 6PM flight to SFO. I walked to Mejiro station, rode the JR line to Nippori, and took the Keisei Skyliner line to its terminus at the Narita aiport.
My backpack is heavy now—I’ve even buckled the waist belt. My shoulder bag is slung over my chest, and the awkward hat package is usually held under one of my arms. I’m dragging along a carryon as well.
The Skyliner train arrives in the airport basement; check-in is a fourth floor activity. There are many convenient escalators and a short line to wait through before I check my backpack (packed in its duffel) and my carryon. On advice from the check-in counter lady I will hand carry the hats to avoid crushing. There’s another short line though security. I’m two hours early to the gate. This is fine with me; I splurge on Macdonalds and Starbucks both.
The flight is nine hours. They serve dinner around eight, Tokyo time, and then breakfast about two hours before landing—I don’t sleep much in between. Possible causes: the high altitude to which the cabin is equivalently pressurized, that and the very strong large coffee from Starbucks. Fortunately there is a good selection of movies I don’t really care about to choose from, and the top 40’s pop station leaks signal all over all the other audio channels. I got an hour or two of restless sleep.
I pick up my bags from carousel number four and re-enter the USA at SFO. Now those $100 bills I’ve kept for emergencies are useful! I break one at a convenience shop just outside the BART train station. People here speak English. It’s crazy. So I take the BART to 24th and Mission, then walk something like a mile—lugging all my luggage—to Noe. It’s cool and dry here—the best clime I’ve been in for a month.
Jesse lives near Noe and 24th; he set out keys and is letting me crash at his place. I gave him a call when I got in, using my old Verizon LG VX3200 with the worn-out battery. When I turned it on I found a voicemail from Evan in New York.
It’s a gorgeous San Francisco summer day, but I’m crashing. Jetlag. I walked around and bought a hot pastrami sandwich and then a cup of coffee, but I still gave in to a catnap at four. I feel terrible. I feel crappy.
Jesse and Amalia returned home at half past seven. We went out for burritos later, then stayed up talking about computers, technology, AI, and martial training stuff.
Their cats are friendly.
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