Peeve Farm

g r o t t o 1 1

Peeve Farm
Breeding peeves for show, not just to keep as pets

  Blog \Blôg\, n. [Jrg, fr. Jrg. "Web-log".
     See {Blogger, BlogSpot, LiveJournal}.]
     A stream-of-consciousness Web journal, containing
     links, commentary, and pointless drivel.

On My Blog Menu:

InstaPundit
USS Clueless
James Lileks
Little Green Footballs
As the Apple Turns
Entropicana
Cold Fury
Capitalist Lion
Red Letter Day
Eric S. Raymond
Tal G in Jerusalem
Secular Islam
Aziz Poonawalla
Corsair the Rational Pirate
.clue

« ? Blogging Brians # »

Book Plug:

Buy it and I get
money. I think.
BSD Mall

10/6/2003 -  10/8/2003
9/29/2003 -  10/5/2003
9/22/2003 -  9/28/2003
9/15/2003 -  9/21/2003
  9/8/2003 -  9/14/2003
  9/1/2003 -   9/7/2003
8/25/2003 -  8/31/2003
8/18/2003 -  8/24/2003
8/11/2003 -  8/17/2003
  8/4/2003 -  8/10/2003
7/28/2003 -   8/3/2003
7/21/2003 -  7/27/2003
7/14/2003 -  7/20/2003
  7/7/2003 -  7/13/2003
6/30/2003 -   7/6/2003
6/23/2003 -  6/29/2003
6/16/2003 -  6/22/2003
  6/9/2003 -  6/15/2003
  6/2/2003 -   6/8/2003
5/26/2003 -   6/1/2003
5/19/2003 -  5/25/2003
5/12/2003 -  5/18/2003
  5/5/2003 -  5/11/2003
4/28/2003 -   5/4/2003
4/21/2003 -  4/27/2003
4/14/2003 -  4/20/2003
  4/7/2003 -  4/13/2003
3/31/2003 -   4/6/2003
3/24/2003 -  3/30/2003
3/17/2003 -  3/23/2003
3/10/2003 -  3/16/2003
  3/3/2003 -   3/9/2003
2/24/2003 -   3/2/2003
2/17/2003 -  2/23/2003
2/10/2003 -  2/16/2003
  2/3/2003 -   2/9/2003
1/27/2003 -   2/2/2003
1/20/2003 -  1/26/2003
1/13/2003 -  1/19/2003
  1/6/2003 -  1/12/2003
12/30/2002 -   1/5/2003
12/23/2002 - 12/29/2002
12/16/2002 - 12/22/2002
12/9/2002 - 12/15/2002
12/2/2002 -  12/8/2002
11/25/2002 -  12/1/2002
11/18/2002 - 11/24/2002
11/11/2002 - 11/17/2002
11/4/2002 - 11/10/2002
10/28/2002 -  11/3/2002
10/21/2002 - 10/27/2002
10/14/2002 - 10/20/2002
10/7/2002 - 10/13/2002
9/30/2002 -  10/6/2002
9/23/2002 -  9/29/2002
9/16/2002 -  9/22/2002
  9/9/2002 -  9/15/2002
  9/2/2002 -   9/8/2002
8/26/2002 -   9/1/2002
8/19/2002 -  8/25/2002
8/12/2002 -  8/18/2002
  8/5/2002 -  8/11/2002
7/29/2002 -   8/4/2002
7/22/2002 -  7/28/2002
7/15/2002 -  7/21/2002
  7/8/2002 -  7/14/2002
  7/1/2002 -   7/7/2002
6/24/2002 -  6/30/2002
6/17/2002 -  6/23/2002
6/10/2002 -  6/16/2002
  6/3/2002 -   6/9/2002
5/27/2002 -   6/2/2002
5/20/2002 -  5/26/2002
5/13/2002 -  5/19/2002
  5/6/2002 -  5/12/2002
4/29/2002 -   5/5/2002
4/22/2002 -  4/28/2002
4/15/2002 -  4/21/2002
  4/8/2002 -  4/14/2002
  4/1/2002 -   4/7/2002
3/25/2002 -  3/31/2002
3/18/2002 -  3/24/2002
3/11/2002 -  3/17/2002
  3/4/2002 -  3/10/2002
2/25/2002 -   3/3/2002
2/18/2002 -  2/24/2002
2/11/2002 -  2/17/2002
  2/4/2002 -  2/10/2002
1/28/2002 -   2/3/2002
1/21/2002 -  1/27/2002
1/14/2002 -  1/20/2002
  1/7/2002 -  1/13/2002
12/31/2001 -   1/6/2002
12/24/2001 - 12/30/2001
12/17/2001 - 12/23/2001

Monday, February 18, 2002
23:01 - I... have a problem...	(top)
Okay, so here I am, blogging on the plane on the way home from Toronto. I knew this thing would become a habit. Ah, but at least I'll bet Hiker is beating me to the bloggin' table anyway-- he's got a little less far to go before he reaches a net connection. Anyway, I'm back in US airspace now. Customs on the outgoing side from Pearson Airport was very busy-- the writhing lines of people waiting to see customs officials wound back and forth eight times across the sizable floor. You get to fill out the customs declaration form while in line, but they don't provide any pens or writing surfaces unless you get out of line-- so there's a lot of borrowing of writing implements and people kneeling on the floor to write. One would think this is a prime candidate for a move to electronic input-- they've got very slick automated checkin kiosks these days (always very seamless at Pearson-- swipe your card, press a button, and out pop your tickets); why not let international travelers walk by a kiosk, tap in a few responses to questions, and have it pass the form through electronically? The Customs official gave me reason to remember the encounter. He was a brusque, straightforward type, with a crisp, clean-cut, mid-20s Ben Affleck sort of look about him. I handed over my passport, kiosk-issued boarding pass, and floor-etched declaration card. "What'sYourCountryOfCitizenship?" he barks, staccato, almost accusingly. "USA," I reply. "WhereIsYourResidence?" "San Jose." "WhatWereYouDoingUpHere?" "Visiting a friend," I say as matter-of-factly as possible. "DidYouSeeTheBallet?" This startled me, but I kept my feet. "The ballet? No," I return as levelly as I can. "AllRight,ThankYou!" He waves me through. I glance back at him, eyebrow raised, corner of my mouth quirked slightly. He's got the same weird, conspiriatorial smile and eye-gleam-- just for the briefest of seconds before he turns his attention to the next person in line. The ballet, eh? I either just got profiled extremely efficiently, or cruised in the absolute least likely of places. Either way, I'm not exactly the most reassured that I've ever been. Anyway, once through the customs gate, it's effectively US territory all the way to the gate, and down the jetway onto the plane; so now that I'm on my way down into Chicago, there to switch planes and ride the currents following the sunset back home to San Jose, I can feel my metabolism already spinning up its flywheel again as it always does when I come home from Canada. (Last time, in August, I got to Gate T before I suddenly realized I was so hungry that I ate four consecutive bags of chips from the vending machine.) So before the rush hits, I'll use this space (it's as good as any, right?) to thank Hiker, Tony, Steve, Torrle, and the rest of the Toronto gang for a helluva fun weekend. You guys all rule. Even if you did get me liking Digimon. Damn you all to hell for that.