Dispatches From the Road

For future reference, the international terminal at LAX is a wasteland. No crappy magazines to buy, no food (crappy or otherwise) to consume, no interesting people to watch... seriously, a wasteland. In the security line, however, there was this awesome German business man with shoulder-length Fabio hair and a harried expression. He was wearing loafers with no socks and it was highly amusing to watch him try to finagle his place in line so that he was standing barefoot for as little time as possible. He even hopped once or twice.
The upside to LAX's horrible no-good very bad terminal? Free internet. I'm not sure that they know that they are offering such a stellar service, however - on my wireless menu, the official t-mobil wireless that you have to pay for appears right above this free network.
So far I haven't seen much of the famed Australian friendliness - the lady at the Qantas check-in counter did have a lovely accent, but she used it to berate me for my slowness and lack of travel-savvy. Perhaps they export all their unfriendly people to staff the foreign Qantas outposts?

An experiment in blogging.

Hypothesis: Shoshana is capable of inserting a picture in a post.

Test: Shoshana attempts to insert a picture into a post.



Result: Success.

Baby Steps

In the town where I was born, there lived a man who sailed the sea. And he lived beneath the waves, in a yellow submarine. We all live in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine. We all live in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine.

Move along, these are not the droids you are looking for.