Well I think I've sufficiently recovered from my swing through Atlanta. Of course, the actual journey home was something less than what I'd call fun. At one point, the sadistic bastard that was our pilot came on the intercom and told us we had to fly through a storm over Texas and to expect some minor turbulence. That didn't exactly thrill me, but when he told the flight attendants to strap in, the emergency flashers started going off in my head. I foolishly raised up the window shade to see that I could make out the wing because of the lights on it, but beyond that I couldn't see crap. Shortly thereafter, the turbulence started as did the huge flashes of lightning all around the plane. All I could think was that a) I'm in a huge flying lightning rod and b) "please don't let me die in Texas, of all places". So yeah, I'm not a huge fan of flying anyway and this sort of cemented my belief that John Madden has the right idea about traveling. Well, we made it through the storm (obviously) and being that I had the row to myself, I stretched out as best as I could and caught a few Z's. The next thing I know, my pleasant slumber was disturbed by the plane touching down in Orange County. And when I say my slumber was disturbed, I mean I was nearly thrown out of the seats because I hadn't belted myself in when I stretched out to doze. Glad the flight attendants are so concerned with passenger safety. I probably would have laughed if it hadn't scared the piss out of me at the time.

So back safely on the ground, bleary-eyed and still somewhat disoriented, I wandered over to the shuttle area to find a ride home. Let me just ask this... is it written down somewhere, is there some cosmic law that requires all shuttle drivers to be amongst the worst on the planet? He nearly hit a dozen cars on the freeway, tailgated and had to lock up the brakes on a couple of occasions because he had rolled right up on top of somebody. Being this guy's passenger made me think that being in that storm over Texas wasn't so bad. And to top things off, the dude was blaring the rap so loud that I thought my eyes were about to start bleeding. For the second time that night, I climbed out of a mode of transportation, weak-kneed and kissed the ground, thankful to still have my life.

I spent Sunday feeling lagged and didn't have the motivation or energy to do much but lounge with the feline unit.

The new semester started Monday night and let me just say "Woah!" This is going to be a brutal, but potentially one of the most interesting semesters I've had in quite some time. I will most definitely not get to slack off and have a mountain of work in front of me. My Theory and History class is going to quite seriously be one of the most intellectually challenging classes I've had probably ever. At least, it should be. Whatever it ends up being, it's going to be a lot of work. My Theater as a Process class is very cool. It's only open to Honors students and is kept very small. I think there's twelve of us and the Prof is way cool. I like him a lot just after the first session. I think the fact that as I walked in a couple of minutes late and he tried to bean me with his hat sort of endeared him to me. LOL... That isn't going to be a lax, do-nothing class either, but it will definitely be looser and far less academically rigid than the other two courses. We're required to attend two productions, one school show and one professional, so I'm looking forward to that. And my last class, Women in the Medieval West, seems very cool so far. It covers how "women's" history has been portrayed, what's been written in the name of women (mostly by men) and the gender roles ascribed to the sexes and how those came about. The Prof is also going to show us a lot of the symbology surrounding women and how they've been portrayed throughout various periods of history. I was actually very surprised to find that the men in the class outnumber the women.

So... lots of papers to write, lots of reading to do, lots of stress to be had. But I like all of my Profs and the classes all seem to be very, very engaging. But I'm all too aware that I need to be damn near perfect beginning this semester and I can feel that noose pulling a little more snug around my throat. Now that I have the whole Honors thing hanging over my head, the need to raise my GPA is right in the front of my noodle. But I think with some good time management, staying on top of the readings and making sure that I'm not waiting until the last minute to write my papers, I really feel like I can pull the A's I want and need this semester. Cross your fingers and say a few good words for me.

My bags are packed and waiting patiently by the door. I am so ready to go home. Tomorrow is going to be a little bit tricky though. The powers that be, somewhere along the way, decided to alter the show hours. I'd been used to the last day of the show being cut short and so I booked my flight to leave tomorrow night as opposed to Sunday without double checking. Ooops. So I'm supposed to work a full day (until 6) tomorrow. The powers that be issued their edict that if you are caught breaking your booth down early, you lose "seniority points". Ooooohhhh... frightening. I'd be tempted to tell them to blow it out their asses but I don't think my boss would be too thrilled with me. Your "seniority" helps determine booth location. And we all know that location is everything. Dammit. My flight is at 830. The airport is roughly 30 minutes away. So I'm hoping that if I do a bunch of prep before 6, I can tear down in 20 minutes or so, scramble back to the hotel, grab my bags and a shuttle to the airport and make it on time. It's going to be tight.

I caught a miserable cold somewhere along the way. Could just be the funky weather, could be the day I got caught in the rain or maybe it's that I've had the air conditioning down to like 60 most nights. Maybe a combination of all three! Whatever it is, this sort of blows. LOL... At least I'll be able to sleep all day Sunday.

I'm just glad to be going home. It's been fun, I've met some cool people, but I want to go back to my own time zone, to my own room, to my own bed.

Highlight of the trip... Definitely my play day on Tuesday.

Most embarassing moment... Not paying attention the first day of the show and wandering into the women's restroom. Oh yeah, I went into the stall, did my business and when I came out to wash my hands, there were two women at the sink. They looked up in the mirror at me, I looked at them and I realized that ooops... wrong bathroom. As I rushed out of the restroom, all I could hear was cackling coming from behind me. Yeah, that sort of sucked.

The one thing I hate about these trade shows is not some of the idiots that stop by my booth... in all honesty, it's probably about 5% of the people that stop by that are just too stupid to live. No, the people that irritate me to no end are some of my fellow conventioneers. I'm probably one of the younger people to work these shows. Most of the people are, I'd say late 40's and above. And man do they act like little juvenile delinquents after show hours. Most of them are rude, they'll bump into you and never say "excuse me", they will let a door slam shut right on you and of course, they rarely say thank you when you hold a door for them. And wow, I thought I was going to be a dirty old man... some of these cats have be beat hands down. Some of the young ladies that work the coffee bars and whatnot around the convention center... if they heard what some of these guys say about them... yeah, they'd probably stick a fork in their eyes. Why just this morning, on the escalator down to the hall, two guys behind me, I'd say they were in their 50's, both had rings on their fingers, were talking about what they'd like to do to the little coffee girl in very graphic terms. It was enough to make me blush. Damn, I may think it, but I'd certainly never say it out loud where everybody could hear me! I'm starting to think that trade shows were originally created to give the old guys a chance to get away from the wife and kids, spend a week getting hammered and doing their best to fondle young girls. LOL....

Anyway, I'm off to bed. Tomorrow's going to be a long one.

Well okay, so yesterday was my play day and I'm behind in my postings. It happens. I spent the Monday night I arrived in my hotel room watching a pretty good storm beat the piss out of the city. At one point, I was on the phone with maybebabies and she could hear the thunder outside. The sky was lighting up every couple of seconds, the rain was pouring down and the thunder was booming so loud, it was literally shaking the building. Needless to say, it was way cool and I enjoyed the hell out of it.

The next morning, I got up and hustled over to the convention center to get my booth set up and squared away so I could have the rest of the day to play. When I was here two years ago, I took in a Braves game over at Turner Field and I had pretty much decided to do the same thing this year after checking the schedule and seeing that they were indeed in town. But after a little thought, I had a better idea. I've always dreamed of touring the Civil War battlefields and the area around Atlanta is dotted with them. Most of them are lesser known, less famous battles, but that didn't matter to me. Once I'd thought about it, I kicked my own ass for not thinking of it the last time I was here. So with my mind made up, I rented a car and drove out to the Kennesaw Mountain Battlefield. I toured the small museum they had and then set out on the hike up the mountain. It's a steep climb and is about a mile and a half to the summit. The heat and the humidity were absolutely brutal I tell you. I really wonder how people can live here! But once I reached the summit, I found the Confederate earthworks. The cannons had been preserved and left in place where they were originally positioned. It was so silent and still up there. It was peaceful and yet very eerie at the same time. After spending a little time up there, I took the trail back down to the car and headed for Cheatham Hill where the fighting was the heaviest. And I most definitely got more than I bargained for there.

It was still sunny, hot and humid when I pulled into the lot at Cheatham Hill. I took off down the trail, stopping to snap some pictures of the Confederate earthworks, the different monuments that had been built and the random headstones that dotted the trail. As I got deeper onto the trail, it got smaller as the trees and brush grew closer on either side. After almost a mile or so, I came to a random gravesite on the side of the trail. It was the grave of an unknown Union soldier. To this day, folks plant flags and flowers on the grave, which has a small fence around it to prevent it from being damaged. If I thought the silence was perfect up on Kennesaw Mountain, I was way wrong. The silence along this trail was so complete, it felt like I was in a vacuum or something. There was definitely some very strange energy around the place and was somewhat spooky in all honesty. As I continued on down the trail, I began hearing peals of thunder overhead and they were definitely getting closer. I came to a fork in the trail and had two choices... go left to the Kolb Farmhouse which lay about 3 miles away or turn right to Cheatham Hill proper. The crash of thunder overhead helped me make up my mind as I wasn't too keen on getting caught out in a thunderstorm. As I proceeded down the trail, it got dark all of the sudden. And I do mean dark and I do mean all of the sudden. One minute, the trail was still dotted with sunlight and the next, it was like night. That and the sudden gusting wind sort of tripped me out. I finally made it to Cheatham Hill and got to take a few minutes to survey the battlefield. I just couldn't imagine charging up this hill, right into the teeth of the Confederate rifles and cannon. I didn't get to admire it long because the thunder and the wind really picked up in intensity. I was torn because I didn't really know where I was. My choices were to turn back and hustle back the way I came or press on and try to find my way back to the road. I opted to press on and I got back onto the trail. It was about this time, as I saw the tops of some of the trees bowing way over that I began to get more than a little alarmed. As badly as I want to hunt tornadoes, I really didn't want one dropping on my head and I was beginning to think that maybe that's what was about to happen. Just as I was working myself up into a tizzy, I heard a loud POP and a fairly decent sized branch came tumbling out of a tree about 10 feet away from me. So yeah, the freak out started in earnest because I wasn't sure what to do if I got caught out with a tornado bearing down. I considered running back out into the middle of the battlefield so I could at least see which direction it was coming from but ultimately decided to bust ass down the trail thinking that perhaps the trees could offer me a little cover. If a tornado really was coming I was screwed either way I realize, but I reasoned that a little bit of cover was better than none at all. As I was hustling down the trail, movement to my right caught my eye and I had to stop and look. It was back in the shadows but a deer was walking around grazing. It looked up at me and we both just stared at each other for a moment. I took out my camera and the deer allowed me to snap a couple of shots before I moved on. About ten feet further down the trail, I ran into another one. This one was much smaller, but just as mellow and allowed me to snap a couple more pictures. It was at that moment that I realized that I worked myself up over nothing. If a tornado were really coming, those deer would have been way out of there. So that calmed my skittish ass down a bit. The wind and thunder kept at it though. About thirty yards further down the trail, off to my left, I saw a herd of deer grazing just off the path. There had to be 8-10 of them, but they were a little more skittish and bolted as soon as I started reaching for my camera. Just as I reached another pair of Confederate cannon, the skies opened up. I've never felt rain so intense before. If I weren't worried about my cell phone and digital camera, I would have taken a little time to enjoy it more. But I was getting soaked through to the bone and needed to get out of the rain on the double so I hustled down the path, found a road and realized I had no idea where the hell I was. The only option I had at that point was to double back the way I'd come. So I hauled ass back down the trail and as I got back to the battlefield, I realized something important completely by accident. The monument standing at the head of the hill was actually the backside of one of the monuments I ran across near the beginning of the trail. Duh! I had to scramble up a slight hill that was already soaked through, getting pretty coated in that famous red Georgia mud, but I made it to the top and sure enough, I was standing near the beginning of the trail, about 200 yards from the parking lot. After a couple of head slaps, I sprinted for the parking lot. By the time I got back to the car, I was absolutely soaked. The t-shirt I was wearing is still wet today. Luckily, I'd left my hoody in the car before I headed out so I was able to change into something dry.

After clearing out of there, I was trying to beat the storm back to Atlanta because I wanted to visit a couple of Civil War cemeteries. I realized pretty quickly that I wasn't going to be able to beat it, so I stopped at a little southern diner my boss had actually recommended to me. Definitely good eats and very southern indeed. The first thing you see when you walk into the dining area is a big Confederate flag on the wall, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are on the menu and macaroni and cheese is listed as a vegetable.

By the time I'd finished dinner, the rain had slacked off a little bit so I decided to make a run by the first cemetery to see if it was still open. It was, so I cruised in and spent about 45 minutes lost in the winding roads looking for the section dedicated to the Civil War casualties. I never found it, but the hundred and hundreds of headstones were really something. The sun began peeking through the clouds and steam was rising from the ground all around. It was both beautiful and creepy. I was definitely feeling some strange energies all around the place. Eventually, the sun began setting so I had to give up my search and head on back to the hotel. Let me just say this, I hate driving in Atlanta. I got so lost in this maze of one way streets and had wandered nearly all the way down to Turner Field before I got back on the right track.

After finally settling back into my room, I took a nice, long, hot shower and relaxed. I don't even know how many miles I'd hiked (or blindly run in a panic) and I was pretty bone weary. But it was a good exhaustion. My one day to play in the city and I enjoyed every moment of it. Even those moments I was sure I was about to die. I'll be back in Atlanta in two years (assuming I'm still with the company and aren't already teaching) and I will most definitely plan on visiting more battlefields and spending some time at them. My only regret is that I didn't get to spend more time at Cheatham Hill. I would have loved to just sit in the middle of the battlefield and soak up all of the energy there. Next time though.

It's getting late here in steamy Atlanta. I'm beat, but it was a very, very good day, so it's a happy beat. Tomorrow, the grind begins. I have to put on my happy, thrilled to be here face from 8-6 every day for the next 4 days. It's not too bad actually, I get to travel and meet some cool people from all over the country, it's just that I could really care less about this industry but I have to pretend that I do. But hey, I've managed it for the last 4 years, so I can do it again. Today I walked down to the Georgia World Congress Center, where the show is being held, to set up my booth and then the rest of the day was mine. And I took advantage of the play day I had. But I shall write more about that later. Suffice it to say for now that today was freaking amazing.

So I flew out of John Wayne airport in Orange County on Monday morning. The first thing I see as the Super Shuttle drops me off at the terminal is a big flashing message board indicating that the Terror Threat Level still sits at Orange. I know it gave me the willies to see that and I was most definitely keeping an eye out for any suspicious looking characters. *rolling eyes* Inside the terminal, the overhead speakers kept repeating the message that "due to heightened security, liquids, gels, guns, bombs, nuclear warheads, swords, cannons, dildos, whips, handcuffs, butt-plugs and Muslims are not allowed on the planes". Yeah, whatever. So I check in and get my boarding pass and head for the security checkpoint for my body cavity search. Following security procedure, I empty my pockets, strip naked and proceed through the metal detector. Just my luck, the buzzer goes off. The TSA officer is already strapping on the latex gloves and lubing up the fingers looking like he was deciding on two or three fingers when I back up, wait for a moment and step through again. Luckily, the buzzer remained silent this time. He looked vaguely disappointed that he wasn't going to be able to play ventriloquist's dummy with me and try to find those hand grenades I had stashed in my ass. As I wait at the conveyor belt to pick up my things, the TSA officer running the x-ray machine stops the belt and looks over at me like I'd just farted in church. I kid you not. Then she asks me, "did you leave your laptop inside of your bag?" A hundred different smartass replies crossed my mind, but not wanting Mr. Jellyfinger back at the metal detector to get a second shot at things, I replied with a simple "yes, I did," to which she simply shakes her head. I was ushered over to a different table where yet another TSA officer took my laptop, removed it from the bag (and I do have to give him kudos for being so gentle with my machine) and performed an explosives residue test on the computer and the bag itself. He then searched the lining of the bag before putting the computer back inside and returned it to the x-ray machine for a second run through. Why, I have no idea, but it seemed to make them happy, so it was all good. I had just finished getting dressed when Mr. Explosives Residue returned my computer to me with a "have a nice day." I grabbed my laptop and shouldered my other carry-on bag, the one they didn't throw a hissy-fit about and proceeded to my gate. The thing that amused me to no end was that in my carry-on, the one that they didn't even give a second glance at, was a lighter, a pocket knife, a portable CD player, a digital camera, a cell phone, various cords and wires that belong to my digital and my keyring which has a remote attached to it. I would think that all of those things would warrant more suspicion than a simple laptop. Granted, I'm not Macguyver and couldn't build a bomb from all of those components, but you'd think that at the very least, the lighter and the pocket knife would freak them out a little. That's our crack TSA staff, ladies and gentlemen. When the Terror Alert Level is at Orange, their heads are just as far up their asses as when it's Green. Doesn't it make you feel safer knowing they're on the job and protecting us against those darn terrorists? I know I do.

So before you fly again, just remember these simple rules... gel/water bras bad, lighters and knives good. Bottles of Gatorade and soda bad, various electronic equipment good. And whatever you do, if the metal detector goes off, give it a second run through unless you want Mr. Jellyfinger rootin' around in your nether regions.