Tweet the past

So I just joined Twitter, right? I figured, why not... all the cool kids are doing it, and I'm nothing if not a follower. But probably the best part of it? The National Museum of American History (Smithsonian represent!) has a twitter account that they use to disseminate fun facts about history. Just this morning I learned that today is Utah's birthday and that it is called "The Beehive State."

Oh, and today in 1847 Samuel Colt sold his first revolver to the U.S. government.

Oh, Twitter. Nerding it up, left and right.

P.S. Atlanta's Hartsfield-Jackson airport... I still sort of hate you, but I hate you much less now that you're providing me (accidentally) with free internet. Keep up the good work.

San Diego, I love you

Any shit I have ever talked about San Diego, it's airport in particular, is now invalidated. San Diego International Airport, you have free wireless*. OMG I LOVE YOU.

*Unlike the world's most ridiculous Spanish Renaissance/Gothic Torture Chamber McMansion, where I have just spent the last five days of my life. Coats of arms embedded into the tiled floor of every room? Yes. Fountains in every room? Yes. Windows with no curtains? Yes. Internet? NO. Also, strangely, no showers. A correlation, perhaps?

Like two ships passing in the night

I was home in California last week celebrating the time-honored holiday of "No Bread For You, Jews", and while in transit on the way back I had some time to kill in the Oakland airport. Figuring "hey, a bit of food-torture wouldn't go amiss," I wandered over to an airport bookstore/newsstand/thing and meandered around all the candy bars and Cokes that I couldn't buy (because they have corn syrup, which is made from corn, which can be used like flour, which makes it an ersatz bread product, which makes it a banned substance on Passover, and sometimes I think my religion is actively trying to make me a neurotic mess).

But anyway, I'm lurking around the magazines when suddenly a guy walks into my range of vision who I vaguely recognize. But from where? I'm scouring my mind, trying to think of everyone I went to high school with. Maybe he was the guy with the locker next to mine? Or copied off me in Calculus? (Which was a stupid idea, Guy who Copied off Me in Calculus... after the C you got on the first test it should have become clear that despite my nerdy glasses and general know-it-all attitude, numbers and I obviously do not get along.) And suddenly it hit me - I'm pretty sure I'd seen him on TV!



My first brush with fame: the guy who plays Morgan Grimes on Chuck! A show that very few people watch. And the character is a lame slacker who works at a Best Buy-esque electronics store. But I refuse to let the details of this encounter ruin it for me!

There is also the possibility that this person wasn't the guy who plays Morgan, but rather a regular Joe who just happens to look a lot like him. I'm also choosing to ignore that potential situation. I suppose I could have asked, but a) if it wasn't him, that would have ruined the experience for me, and b) I was at that very moment salivating over cheetos and clutching an US Weekly in my hand, so it might have been an awkward encounter.

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?