Jun 16, 2006
Sep 05, 2006
The last thing I did in Eugene was play a Green Garter Band gig for the graduating seniors in the honors college. I finished the gig at 9:30 and my parents drove like mad to get me to the airport before my midnight flight (thanks dad). I am keeping my apartment over the summer so it is going to be a pit stop for me as I travel around, but I really don't think I'll be there for more than a couple nights this summer. The flight was almost unbearable, it started off well, I managed to finagle an exit row seat, but the two rows in front of me were mothers in their late twenties and they had four bitch-ass screaming children that I wanted to throw out the freaking airlock. I know you've all had that kid that cries because his ears hurt when the plane is descending, this is not that, this is FOUR, one, two, three, four, children under three years old that took turns crying, shreaking, crapping their pants, calling for their mothers, and slobbering. I was almost to the point of asking their mothers why on earth they put four toddlers on a flight that takes six hours overnight, but I realized that If I was pissed off, there was no fury like those mothers scorned. Thank god for loud iPods.