ok, so i haven't posted in a while -- make me. i've been in nyc watching emma run 26.2 miles without pooping herself -- right on sherman!-- though i may have wet my pants the tiniest bit on the 6 train going up to the 20-mile mark because i'd had a lot of coffee and there was a tokyo-style crush of people including someone with a duane read bag applying pressure to my bladder. but enough about street style -- on with bodily functions!
above on the sun country flight, i was just warming up, cracking my knuckles, stretching, loosening up the old stalking skillz with the back of the
sucker guy in 4A. whatever, he was asleep and none the wiser. i was awake to the tonal textures of the plane, his herringbone jacket, itty bitty striped hipster hoodie and the seatback pocket. alternately squinting and bugging my eyeballs out a) prepares me for the visual onslaught that is to come, and b) inspires the woman in the seat next to me to beg ask to be moved to the nonreclining seat right next to the bathroom. i heart flying.