A Guru of My Very Own

Well, I talked to the boss lady today, unfortunately to no avail. She kept feeding me some crap about responsibility and taking care of your people first. What about me?! What about my needs?! What about Chapelle's Show and that blueberry muffin mix just begging to be whipped up into some sweet, just-like-homemade goodness?!
(should I be concerned that I am referring to a fake conversation with myself in the third person, while using dueling punctuation marks?!)

There are days when being salary blows.
And then there are MONTHS when it does just that, non-stop.
Wah. I know, I'll quite whining now.

As I've mentioned in a previous infomercial for Song, I fly often enough to remember which terminals have what shops and which flight attendants have recently changed their hairstyle. People complain, and rightly so, about the sardine can experience of flying. Waiting at the airport, the fees, the security checks, I'm fine with all that, I've got a strategy and I use it. But the actual flight itself can bring about fits of rage to rival anything on the road. And to me a lot of that anger is due to being able to tell if the guy next to you in 22B used fabric softener or not as his pants rub against you every time he shifts in his seat to call for another blankie.

There may not be a science to picking a seat on a plane, but there is help. Use Seat Guru to help you better understand plane configurations and limitations. Learn about pitch and width, emergency exits and tv monitors. This is my new favorite site, and if that makes my internet entertainment a little sad, so be it.