EN ROUTE : the perils of travel to san francisco

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during a recent trip to sf,

tim and i were delayed six hours.

due to "weather",

which typically means FOG,

in a city where fog is the norm.

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tim and i flew into chicago in the middle of full on arctic gales

with nary a bump,

but sf?

fog = total shut down.

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drives me bats.

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add a screaming child in the packed lounge

who thought it fun to climb BETWEEN the seats and run around

while his toothless mother mumbled into her cup of coffee,

well,

i was HERE:

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so, 

not to brag,

but just to make a point,

please note how i dress when i travel.

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i think this is a good point.

my mother always made us dress up when we went on a plane,

whether to london or to pennsylvania,

there was a code.

it was travel.

it was civilized.

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and yes, i love my orange bag too.

well, tim's bag,

but i co-opt it.

often.

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anyway, there i was, about to shoot something.

perhaps myself.

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finally we board.

and we are walking to the plane,

and tim turns to me,

all big eyed,

and starts nodding to the left,

saying

"get your camera get your camera get your camera".

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i mean,

really.

i feel for her,

then i see the bunion pad,

and i think

sorry, no excuses grandma.

put the feet away,

and give beyonce her bag back.

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this?

this is just a picture of hilary duff in lanvin heels with a birkin.

i'm not making a point,

i'm just soothing my eyes.

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