Guess who's alive!

Well, the reason I'm the last to say anything about L3Con is the fact that apparently I'm the biggest victim of it. Between the return to allergies on Sunday (oh lord, my body got used to no dog, and I couldn't *breathe* or even *see*) and the time warp, I'm all bumfuzzled.

Let's put it this way. Sunday night at midnight EDT I was wide awake. Last night I managed to start dozing off at the end of Antiques Roadshow, so I went on to bed. I woke up at 11:30 pm and couldn't go to sleep until 2 am.

On the plus side I got to see Dale Jr. sign an implant and Jimmie Johnson marveling over the fact that he was fondling a breast.

I'll do a recap later.

But the best moment(s) of the weekend go to huffytcs and jollycynic, who are the cutest of cute engaged couples. All these conversations going on, and then you glance at them and they're just...so in love. It's heartwarming and endearing and so. damn. cute/beautiful. And Markle rocks at designing engagement rings, even if he did have precise instructions. *g*

Well

My favorite typo of the day, on a menu that the client wrote...

"The two men were inseparatable."

*snicker* They also used "whom" at an inappropriate moment. And all of this on a menu. A menu!

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I object to the naming of Barbie's boyfriend. His name should be Hugh.

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Let me pimp out a new member of the LJ community and a wonderfully insightful Smallville fan...rose_etta. Go. Friend her.

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There was much fun on the flight home from L.A. when the guy in the aisle seat got pissy because I was in his seat. Except for the part where I wasn't. He was young. He was stupid. He was wearing a trucker's cap as a fashion accessory (although points in his favor for it being John Deere). Not my fault that a) he can't read a ticket and his seat assignment, b) my ticket did in fact say I had the window seat, which means even if we were both assigned to the same seat, the fact that I got there first gave me dibs, and c) getting pissy was grounds for me kicking his ass that early.

He calmed when the woman in the middle (who apparently didn't want to be in the way of a beatdown) pointed out his seat *was* the aisle seat.

Of course the guilt trip I was given by her because a) she hates middle seats and b) she can't sleep on flights, was annoying. Is it my fault that I bought my ticket in April? Is it my fault that the airline assigned me that seat without request? I never once got up to go to the bathroom on a three hour flight. I was a good window seat occupant.

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I find it highly amusing that chiri_chan flew from Illionis ("This one time, in Peoria...and then they all got gonnerhea.") to L.A. for four days, with no incident (beyond late flights) then gets home to an earthquake. It's bizarre, and weird.