Reservations Reservations
I’m staying with Mom in Pennsylvania but I feel like the time for going home is at hand. So I’m looking into return flights for next week.
Checking on one flight segment, from Seattle, WA, to Medford, OR — my final leg — causes some reservation to make the final click.
Seems the flight is 66% on time. That’s the only number provided. For ‘% Late 30 + min” and for ‘% Cancelled’, their little chart says 0%.
So I’m confused. If it’s only on time 66% of the time, and it’s never late or cancelled, what’s happening to the flight? Is it just disappearing?
Then I need to consider, is your flight disappearing that bad?
I mean, I’ve never heard any complaints about it. Depends on where you go and what happens when your flight disappears I suppose. Is it a Stephen King situation or someone else?
Langfloofliers
Langfloofliers (floofinition) Term derived from a Stephen King story which means an animal who eats up or uses up time and resources.
In use: “Feeding, playing, and cleaning up after their animals, many people discover that their pets are Langfloofliers, because time seems to pass without notice when the people are with the animals.”
What School? (Updated)
Once again, Stephen King has managed to irritate me.
I’d been busy writing, thinking, and brainstorming yesterday, capping off the final few minutes of an enjoyable writing session. (I know, I seem like an eternal optimist, don’t I? Truth is, I don’t share many of the dark days. I don’t like dwelling on ’em.)
MS Word froze. Hell, the entire computer froze. With an exasperated, “WTF?”, I sat back, sipping the last of my cold coffee, hoping to wait it out. A few things were attempted to break the hold. Not a damn thing worked.
Hard reboot, please. I was sore about it, nay, pissed. I wanted to bring the doc up to finish those last few thoughts and paragraphs.
Twelve minutes later – was I counting? Ya think? – the docs were up with some final paragraphs missing. Grrr. The excitement had fizzled, the energy had dried up, the thrill was gone. (Cue B.B. King.) So was my coffee and the allotted time to write. I made a note to myself, just a brief, slightly cryptic thing. I figured, I’d remember…
Twenty-four hours later, I don’t remember. Well, I remember three out of four that I’d thought. Damn it, that fourth one is plaguing me.
Which brings me to the eternal question, which school do you belong to? Are you one that writes copious notes, or are you of the “I’ll remember it” school?
I used to be the copious notes school. Then I read that Stephen King said that he doesn’t keep notes. He said that if it was important, he’d remember it. How sage that sounded! I would be like Stephen King. He can do it, so I can, too…right?
First, I lied. I am a copious note maker. I have documents of notes about the novel in progress, explaining what and why, because I know that I’ll probably get lost in the tangled tales and forget. I invoked the Stephen King clause yesterday in an optimistic fit. While I don’t remember it now, I’m sure that I will as I write today…or tomorrow…or…sometime.
I hope.
Got my mind juice, a.k.a., coffee. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
UPDATE: I remembered the fourth as I began writing, and made a note of all four. Ah, the power of coffee.
Michael Seidel, writer 