Bullets from Moncton

I'm in Moncton. Next week I'm in Winnipeg. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!  I'm tired and headachey.

• my shuttle bus to the Hamilton airport was driven by a creepy overly friendly guy. Spent a long time telling me how OK he was with gay people, and then drove me to the airport via some very backroad routes including a gravel road. I was a little scared.
• Hamilton airport is NOT the liveliest place in the world. I saw an interesting photocopied sign at one of the unused gates saying that if someone hasn't shown up yet, never say that they will be "DENIED BOARDING." Instead they prefer the phrases "bags subject to removal" or somesuch.
• On the plane the flight attendant was new -- either that or clueless. She read her announcements from the manual, which I've never seen. She spilled Diet Coke on me.
• My second flight (Montreal to Moncton) was on the same plane with the same flight attendant. No Diet Coke spilled this time, but she came very close.
• I feel like I'm living inside a Douglas Coupland novel. This always happens to me when I'm reading one. Is this common?
• Noise-cancelling headphones are now the coolest thing in the world. Except the ones I bought are too cheapo to really impress. But still, I was impressed.
• Sadly, I'm just not reading a huge number of my LJ friends' journals any more. I only get to hit the site once a day, and I skim more than I want to. Rather than leave everyone on my friends list and just be nonresponsive, I had to remove over a dozen people today. In fact, I realized that a huge number of people on my friends list NEVER post, but I have them on there just in case they post again some day. Close real-life friends, for example. It's silly. Rest assured I think you're all very nifty, but I just ain't reading enough anymore. Some people insist on completely symmetric friends lists, but not I.

OK. Time for some bed soon.