meara, it always amazes me how many people seemingly have no concept of time zones, and the fact it's THREE HOURS EARLIER on this coast. Don't wake me up at the crack of dawn! Don't babble in baffled amazement that I wasn't at my desk at work to take your call when it's only 7:00 a.m. in my time zone! Don't gripe because your husband stayed up to 1:00 a.m. watching the Red Sox playing the M's and act like the problem is us having the nerve to schedule games to fit the lives of people who actually live here!

but I did make a sound of "Gonna kick your ass from across the country" when someone called me at 6:15AM. He was on the east coast. I did not answer the phone, but when I spoke to him later, I was like "Dude, you DO NOT want to talk to me at 6AM, especially if you have woken me up. Which you did."

Normally when a call comes in at an outrageous hour, I answer the phone just in case it really is an emergency with the following: "If this was not a matter of life and deal before, its about to become one".

I was not making the sound of ultimate suffering, but I did make a sound of "Gonna kick your ass from across the country" when someone called me at 6:15AM. He was on the east coast.

HE deserves to be making the sound of ultimate suffering.

Oh, lord. I barely want to call my West Coast coworker before 8, and I KNOW she's up and working at 6!

What seems at first glance like a stunningly bad life decision, for a young writer

I hate this person. It makes me horribly paranoid, especially when I'm in the middle of writing the next non-fiction. Casts a doubtful eye over everyone. I wish I could kick her. She lives nearby, right?

Another bad decision made over the weekend:

What do you do when your son is late to a tennis tuneup and team tryouts are two days away?

A Lake Villa man hopped in his Piper Clipper airplane Saturday, breezed above the congested roads and landed at a golf course across a highway from the tennis club, where skis on the underside of his four-seater glided across the snow-covered fairway.

I heard this guy on the radio this morning, sounding as if it was a normal decision to land on private property with his airplane just because he didn't want to deal with Saturday morning traffic. Hello?!? It's a frickin' golf course, you idiot!! What gives you the right to turn it into your private landing strip? My teeth were grinding listening to this thinks-he's-so-entitled jerk.

but Kathy?!?!? his kid's spot on the tennis team was at stake. C'mon!

which is to say - nothing would be wrong with me hi-jacking the subway when mac needs to be somewhere. right?

I wish I could kick her. She lives nearby, right?

She just fills me with rage! I've been wanting to smack her puffy, smug face All Day. Some of that may be wicked PMS talking. Not all.

Want to smack her twice!

I think this is one of my favorite parts of the Plane AssHat story:

[The FAA] will review the pilot's certification, whether rules of flight were followed and whether the aircraft was properly maintained...

"Huh. Turns out landing this thing on a golf course isn't illegal."

"What?! That's crazy!"

"Yeah."

"We've got nothing on this guy, then. Fuck!"

"Except that broken taillight..."

"What broken...?"

*SMASH*

"I like the way you think, amigo."