Tuesday, 13 November 2007

LAX

I don't know why people 'dis cycling attire as being tight/inappropriate/funny looking when every Mexican chic in LA wears pants tighter than my cycling shorts, without having an appropriate exercise regimen to underpin the trend.
 
After another hour in lineup land, I slept for a while on the floor while some couple argued incessantly next to us. I woke up, boarded the plane, and slept through till breakfast.
 
There was a Dali Lama lookalike on the flight (is it ok to call any monk a lookalike just cause they have the same outfit?). He was in first class which seemed odd, but the good thing about being a monk without possessions is that your little carry on satchel and no other luggage sure makes airports seem easier.
 
I had a little Costa Rican grandma next to me on the flight, she couldn't figure out the seatbelt so I helped her out with that. Only downside was that the rigors of flying seemed like more than her years could handle (either that or it was the crappy breakfast) and she got sick. I think she was only 4'11" tall to start with, when she was slumping over in her seat to rest more it seemed like she was hardly there.

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