I think my body just hates Cincinnati.
I'm sitting in the lobby of the Kingsgate Marriott on a lovely, sunny morning, watching a group of conference attendees mill around. I've caffeinated - insufficiently, but enough to make sentences should anyone approach me. (The sentences might not be 100% grammatically correct, but that's all I've got today.) We're catching the early shuttle to CCM (and yes, we'll be stopping for more caffeine), where we'll hear a tightly compacted day of auditions before running to the airport for a Houston-bound plane. It's going to be a scary travel afternoon, and will probably involve running through CVG at some point. (*fingers crossed* that it doesn't come to that!) We always hear interesting folks here, and the fabulous DL plays circles around this repertoire. But it's a short stop, and toting all of this gak around for less than 24 hours in a city is rough.
All of the flying has reminded me of how much I love that short moment of weightlessness when the plane takes off...flying out of Chicago last night was beautiful, with the city lights shimmering in a messy grid and sudden blackness where the lake began. It was unexpected (not sure why...maybe just because I was in a window seat and paying attention?) and very much appreciated.
Our trip out of Cincinnati last year was epic. Epically horrible, epically funny...probably depends on your perspective. I'm hoping that this year is epically smoooooth.
- These guys. Perfect plane music.
- Happy accidents.
- Hotel beds.
- People watching.
- Falling into a weird, but workable, routine.