Raining in San Diego

Not an usual thing to happen here, but raining nonetheless when I arrived tonite. The flight here was a small miracle: a direct, non stop flight from DC to San Diego. Sweet! But when I checked in, I noticed that my seats had been changed, and instead of my usual aisle seat, I'm in the middle!

And since the plane was sold out, it was time to pour the charm to get the seating arrangement re-done. The trick? They usually leave the row with the emergency exits open to the last minute, so that the agent can eyeball the person and decide that he/she can physically take that small door off and allow the passangers to escape via that row (as if).

So I smiled, and said to the jaded airline lady: "I will gladly sit in the exit row, and can physically do the task, if needed." She eyeballed me carefully, realizing that she was dealing with a seasoned traveler. I blinded her with a smile and to make a long story short I ended in the sweet, extra space exit row.

Time permitting, I will try to keep up with the posting.

And I was able to re-discover Emily Dickinson on the flight here. I think that I last read her in college, and I had forgotten how sensually surprising she could be:

Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile the winds
To a heart in port,—
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.

Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!