Start: Fri Sep 22 19:40:08 MDT 2000

Oh, does it ever feel good to be here! And damn, am I ever tired!

I am typing this into my console (xterm on Argo ssh-ed into Dagobah), but I'm not using the standard ramblings script again yet. I don't want to have this one inserted before I transcribe all the others, because that would royally screw my stuff up. Trust me, it just would.

I don't think any of them will be getting typed up until tomorrow. I'm just too beat. Probably after I've slept a nice long 18 hours, I'll get down and pump them all in. It'll be a Jaeger-in-Florida-esque dump of queued up content. Good thing too, because I think some content vultures might be on the verge of starvation. (Assuming they haven't just given up and moved on to greener pastures already.)

---

When the plane landed, it was a return to the fog. Visibility out the window went from warm, sunny skies, to a solid white morass of fog. Patches of it whipped by the wings so fast, that it looked like the wings outside were appearing and disappearing in rapid succession. Like a visual effects shot. But no, it was real.

The landing itself went mostly smooth, although a bump on the runway forced a vocal utterance out of the "single serving friend" -- a non-linguistic instinctual bluuh -- at which point she locked eyes with B for a brief second, exchanged a smile, and both went back to privately observing the scene.

It was so odd. The entire flight, both had been so careful to NOT look at each other's personal items (at least not overtly), that this very effort became noticable in and of itself. It was like, "You can have your peace and privacy, and I can have mine, as long as we turn our heads, keep our eyes on our own stuff, and not bother the other in any way with fake pleasantries." An unspoken, unwritten truce between two people sitting in a close space next to each other, neither one of which really felt like being around anyone else. That was my interpretation of events, anyway. I could be totally head up the ass.

Finally, just before 1700 MDT, got off the plane, said brief parting words to L, and was on my way. In the bowels of the parking garage, Bitscape briskly made his way to the section, he had written on a small sticky note three days before. He located Tobias, safe and in good physical condition. But all was not well with the vehicle's emotional subsystems.

Tobias was cold, lonely, abandoned, and HUNGRY. Like Argo (the REAL Argo, not the namesake sitting next to my knee) in Adventures In The Sin Trade, Tobias had been left in limbo. Like Argo, who was stranded in the wilderness while Xena journied to the Land of the Dead in search of her soulmate, Tobias was left at the scary airport while Bitscape journied to the Land of the Overworked in search of a cluestick.

Upon sensing Bitscape's return, Tobias perked up excitedly, trying to hold back the shivers. When Bitscape entered, and turned the ignition, Tobias wimpered for a bit, and then began to purr softly. In the excitement of getting to leave the strange, unknown garage, Tobias began to play some music. The tunage was sweet, my friends. The tunage was sweet.

At the exit gate, Bitscape brought out the Not So Happy (As of Late) Bank Account Depletion Card. There's another one to bill to the pointies.

At the first available location, Bitscape pulled Tobias up for a big feeding. A busy as hell place it was. Cars lined up everywhere to refuel. All the available pumps were occupied. One vehicle was pulling out, and Tobias quickly seized the opportunity. Food for the car. But this was the slowest goddamn gas pump I have ever seen in my life. It must've taken at least five minutes to get to ten gallons! Sadly underpowered little thing. Finally, it was done, and the (Somewhat) Happy Bank Account Depletion Card had been put to use again.

Then, on the way home, after getting off Pena Boulevard, Bitscape accidentally took a wrong turn, and ended up going south on 225. Long trips, excessive working hours, and frog legs do strange things to the mind. I took a while for Bitscape to catch on to the fact that he wasn't headed the right way. (Hey, I couldn't tell directions because the mountains were obscured by fog. Gimme a break.)

It wasn't a big deal though, because Bitsape found and caught the next westbound exit, took a nice long trek until he hit 25, and then north was the only natural direction. From there, it's a no brainer. Rush hour traffic, but Uncle Nasty and Lynn provided entertainment that was more than sufficient. And music. Lots of music. Good music.

On the way home, as previously planned, Bitscape dropped by Best Buy, where he purchased some Music on a cd. (Dumbest title ever, or stroke of genius? I frankly don't care, as long as she doesn't pull a Microsoft and try to trademark the Word. Oops. I think I just violated a trademark.) Purchased another thang too. Me gonna be entertained. Music.

Headed home. As I was getting off of 36, the WB show was beginning. (For you lawyer types, those are his INITIALS, so it ain't a trademark violation to call it that.) I swear, Willy B and Lou get better every time I hear them. Those two have Radio Chemistry Bigtime. Absolutely hilarious ecstasy to hear them work. It's like on the fly mental energy compressed into a big horny joke. I mean, I just can't describe how good those two are together on the radio together. Willy B is an awesome DJ by himself. Lou, on the rare occassions where I've heard her do solo work, has been exceptional as well. When those two get on the mike at once, WATCH OUT! It's firecracker time. (Is Lynn right? Are the two of them secretly "together" off the air as well as on? We might never know. Probably better that way.) I swear, between the hours of 1700 and 0000, that station is IT.

106.7 KBPI Rocks the Rockies. I'll be expecting that endorsement check in the mail any day now guys. ;)

Then, I got home. Food's here. Gonna spend time with parents and brother. Peace. And FOOD! :)

Finish: 2036 MDT