Side Step...John, the Business Trip, and Some Other (Bacon) Bits, Round Two and Three

       (Since Round Two and Three are somewhat brief, combined you will find here.)
      
       (Round two of the saga John, the Business Trip and Some Other Bits.  This details my thoughts of being in the air and on an airplane, both of which I take with a morbid amusement.  Fair Warning:  Offer void in Montana and California.  Read at your own risk of raging flatulence or active hiccup fits.)

       Boarding the plane came and went sans much ado.  Massive relief washed over me upon seeing that I would not be reliving the 'Spirit Airlines Extra Small Sardine Can' incident of last year.  I am referring to the (total) lack of leg room I had on the way to Bore-lando last year.  I thought I was going to blow both knees out on that trip.
       In a moment of seriousness, I did give myself a moment of fright upon boarding.  When I sat in my seat at the window, I did not notice where exactly I was.  I only noticed that I was right next to an engine after we started rolling.  As we all know, in the very recent past someone died due to an engine explosion on a Southwest flight.  This loomed in my mind as I began snapping some of my craptastic photos.
       I am not a fan of gimicky gadgets, but I hammered out my notes for this posting on an iPoo'd.  Detest crApple products I do, but for being in a tight space, the size was a gem.  I am an old school sod, so I prefer an actual keyboard, but it worked good enough for my hot (steaming) mess of notes I took to amuse myself whilst flying.
       As we continued on, I had a good chuckle at the amount of electronics I was lugging about.  The list is a long one, leading me to feel more like someone heading to a hacker con.  I reasoned I could probably conduct an orbital launch from where ever I found myself parked.
       As we made final approach to Snotlanta, one last thought rolled down the alley of my mind.  Certain am I by now you dear reader, have determined a fair amount of doubt in my level of sanity.  A good thing, as it leads to another psychological concept:  Compensation syndrome.  No, not that one.  Egad, not that one either you dirty minded scary people.  A coping mechanism for my aforementioned fear and distaste. Tormenting those whom dare read this (dis)missive with the randomness of me not screaming for Klondike bars, or why my plans for the conquest of Mars remained unrealised.

       (Round three of the saga John, the Business Trip and Some Other Bits.  Ric Flair Warning:  Wooooooo!)

       Unlike last year, I did not arrive at a destination alone.  Our Marketing Manager flew on the same flight, which was fantastic, as someone knew where to go.  Directions...hate me do they.  An added bonus:  Snotlanta did not boil the eyebrows off me upon arrival.  Last year's trip to Bore-lando resembled oven temperatures, nearly setting my hair aflame. 
       The report for today is rather short, as it involves a good deal of walking:

       -Walking all over the airport in search of transport.
       -Walking to acquire food
       -Eating said food and waiting to check in
       -Marching first several blocks outside to locate the trade show site to register.
       -Marching through several buildings finding an over the land route.  (I should have made a map, since my terrible sense of direction may get me into South Carolina.)
       -Meeting my good friend Miles, and us marching along and talking all kinds of randomness, from lessons in surveying to concepts of reality.

       Tomorrow, like those pesky Redcoats, are coming.  You may return to your regularly scheduled insanity, shenanigans, freaky things you naughty people do.  Please do not tell me, I had a capital dinner and would like to keep it down.