My blobbing of the conference. Part One

Hello. Welcome to Crapra. No. Unfair. I’m not even there yet. Where am I? In the JetBlue terminal.

I think it’s the JetBlue terminal. It’s certainly the only airline represented here on the C wing of Terminal C at Boston’s Logan Airport, located somewhere in Quincy or something.

Cheap. I think this must be the cheap airline because everyone here looks poor. Including me. I’m riding with my ghetto ass looking suitcase with the purple ribbon tied to the handle to indicate that, yes, it’s mine! In the most shrill, Carson Kressley kind of way. Great start. There are maybe two attractive people in this area. And I’m not included in that head count. For sake!

A tiny blue jet just rolled by the window. Not JetBlue, but a blue jet. The size of a shoebox. I can’t imagine flying in that thing. If I’d brought a camera I could have photo blogged this, but I’d rather do it the old fashioned, 1999 way. Foo yeah.

So, what can I report at this early stage of my Conference trip? Well, so far I’ve had Johnny Rockets for lunch, a Viva Rita from Wolfgang Pucks, and now I’m sitting here behind a somewhat hot looking individual. Um, yeah. Welcome to the relatively boring life of whatever world I’m living in.

UglyAgnes drove me up here, which was nice. Bad enough having to wait two hours for a three hour flight into humid heat, but if I’d had to take the bus…please. I wish this was taking place somewhere else. Canada, Seattle, anywhere but Orlando. In August. At least it’s a resort hotel, but still. I have some dignity. I hate wearing shorts. Well, I don’t hate it, my legs are nice, but they’d be nicer still if I was a girl, probably (most likely) let’s leave it at that and let my ego have a bite to eat just once this week.

I’m not going to pay the massive WiFi bill here at the airport, so once this is posted it will have long have transpired (the content of this missive, that is). I’ll probably be lying in my freezing hotel room with either CNN or the Golden Girls on when I post. What fun that future self is having! Envy him, not me, the schlub in the terminal (gate C 36). It’s funny how young and tall some people can be. I just saw one. So young, so tall. What a life. I’ll never know any of it now. Well, end of part one. Look forward to what Mr. Part 2 is able to contribute.