In Route to Alberquerque

9:50 am- I have been on many flights...all over the world. Never have I experienced turbulence like this. This is more jarring...and much less fun...than The Titan. We are descending...will land soon. And thank God for that, because a woman 3 rows in front of me has just vomited. I wouldn't be able to smell it any better had she deposited it in my lap. I'm starting to dry-heave.

10:35 am- Now in the Dallas airport...layover. I was listening to tribal dance music for a while on the headphones. It was fun to watch people rush around to music like that. Everyone seemed peppy and exhilarated and full of life. I got bored with it a few minutes ago and switched to another CD. Beck's "Sea Change". Immediately, everyone around me changed. The attitude of movements that I witnessed previously are suddenly depressed and deliberate. Individuals who had once been headed to joyful reunions with lovers and anticipated vacations are now on their way to funerals and mundane business meetings. I feel dangerously powerful. Through the soundtrack of life that I have access to...I control everyone in this airport...Their destinies are in my hands. If I had a handlebar mustache, I'd be curling its ends between my fingertips at this very moment. I wonder what would happen if I could get my hands on some K.C. and the Sunshine Band.

10:57 am- A guy has just taken a seat across from me. He isn't all that attractive, really; but I find myself fighting the urge to stare at him. He's wearing tassled loafers and a SonicYouth tshirt. His long hair is pulled back in a ponytail and looks like it hasn't been washed in quite some time. I don't notice his wrinkled clothing and 8 o'clock shadow as much as I do his bright blue eyes. They look sad. Funny how certain people transfix me. It isn't always the way someone is dressed or the way they look. It isn't always their gestures or tone of voice, either. There's really no consistency to what grabs my attention. Sometimes there's just something about a person that makes me want to know their story.

11:06 am- An older man sat down behind and to the left of me a while ago on the row of seats that is connected to mine. He put on headphones right after he sat down and then closed his eyes. I think he was asleep for a while, but now (with his eyes still closed), he's doing leg lifts in his seat. With hands gripping the arm rests on either side of him, both legs are being extended and then lowered simultaneously in rapid succession. This entire section of seats is rocking and squeaking to the rhythm of his exercise, and the sound is like the cliche' noise of sex in an unsturdy bed. I suppose he's oblivious to the sound and the rocking since he is lost in whatever music is blaring through his headphones. I've been trying to ignore the movement of my seat, but this is almost as unsettling as the turbulence I experienced on the plane. I'm moving now.

11:42 am- The plane has just taken off. I'm in the aisle seat...and the little guy sitting next to me by the window is slightly peculiar. He has needed to get up several times, and instead of allowing me time to move aside for his exit, he stradles my legs with his ass about an inch from my nose. He's very thin, and is not in any way short on room on his side of the armrest, but he continues to lean his shoulder into mine way more than is necessary. Dude...I don't wanna cuddle.

12:21 pm- Okay...now he's singing what can only be some version of a show tune. He's been doing it for about 20 minutes now. He isn't singing at the top of his lungs, but everyone is this vicinity is definitely getting an earfull. There's one line that contains a high note that he can't quite reach. (something about lovin' the moonlight) So, he's been repeating that one line over and over. Doesn't sound to me like he's getting any closer to getting it right. In all honesty, he doesn't sound that bad. There's no amount of money in the world that could convince me to tell him so, however. I've put my headphones on to try to drown him out...it's not working as well as I would have hoped. People keep giving me glances to suggest that I should do something about this situation...that I should shut-up my seat mate. In response, I widen my eyes to say "I'm not with him! Really."

12:55 pm- I'm reading a book that a friend of mine lent me. It's mostly humorous commentary on pop culture. At some point, I realized that singing boy had been not-so- subtly reading over my shoulder for an entire chapter. Right around the time the flight attendant was nearing us with the beverage cart, he instrusively lifted the front cover of the book to read the title. "Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs". He said it aloud and then asked in an inappropriately loud voice, "Is this a self help book?" His question actually would have been quite funny had he been trying to be ironic, but he was entirely serious.

Annoyed, I sharply answered, "No. No, it's not a self help book."

The flight attendant, now beside me, overhears and wants to know what it is that I'm reading. I tell her, and she gives me a disapproving look. "Ohhhh. (drawn out and judgmental) That sounds nice."

Mr. No Personal Space goes on to tell me that he really liked the part about the such-and-such on the previous page. I brushed him off as politely as possible, and now I'm trying to enjoy my book while shielding it from him. I'm not sure what is socially correct thing to do here. Is it okay for me to shift my body away from him every time I feel his eyes on the pages? Because that's what I've been doing. Maybe I could build a little tent with my Trapper Keeper like I used to do in elementary school too keep the other kids from copying. Oh, the hell with it. I'll just let him read along.