I love travelling.

Really.

Having your plane reschedule by four hours so that you will miss your connecting flight and thus will not get home until after midnight when you haven't slept in three days because it's too bob-damned hot and you're not in your own bob-damn bed and you just had to say good bye to people who you won't see for two years, but you're all pissed 'cause now you have to sit for three hours in a tin can at 30,000 feet with a complete stranger reading over your shoulder while you type, which I guess isn't going to happen anyways because the fucking plane is broken.

Yeah.


New York pictures will be up soon.  I have many.


Edit: That's right, karma.  Cancel my flight.  That's even better.  FUCK YOU.