Confusion Reigns, Normalcy Tired of Calling Shots

Since many of you are avid New York Times readers (being part of the liberal elite), you have probably now read that I have completed my move to the City that Never Sleeps. For the record, the city DOES sleep, just standing up. Similar to giraffes, in about six, five minute intervals a day.

Anyways, after traveling through the computer-less Guatemala City airport, touching down briefly in Boston, and taking the Fung Wah southbound (see: "Riding the Dog," 7.24.06), I have finally entered the next phase of my life I like to call, "Unsucessfully Navigating Educational Bureaucracy." Apparently, my current status is Student Sans Privileges. I can get into all the buildings, I just can't do anything once I'm there. Various hurdles still include: Proving I am germ-free, unleashing my new-found borrowed wealth, 'posting my tuition' (an unknown step, which when asked, was described to me as "when my tuition posts to my account. Next!"), setting up all the utilities in my apartment, and reconfiguring my Freedom Levels to correspond to our new threat level status. So, pretty much, I've got everything completely under control.

I actually can't believe that I live in New York now. Unlike just about every other person in the world, I have never dreamed of living in the Big Apple, thought it was mostly laquered in urine on the weekends, and never had illusions of bunking with the Old Woman who lived in a shoebox. Nonetheless, I'm here and have to deal. That said, it's still NYC, so I should just shut the hell up and appreciate it. Moving on...

Regarding air travel, please be aware of our new airport regulations, in place for your safety. To preface this list for a moment, I have never complained when asked to take off my smelly shoes, am asked to empty the entire contents of my carefully-packed bag, am subjected to 'wanding' by overzealous airport screening agents, or have to show my ID 4 times in the same line. I don't want to blow up (but if this happens, I am confident in the efficacy of my seat cushion, which conveniently turns into a flotation device in the event of a mid-air explosion), but these new regulations certainly put a damper on the pleasures of recirculated air and vacuum-flush toilets.

1) No Liquids -- or anything that may or may not have once been a liquid. This includes water (the steward-prescribed two tablespoons are enough for anyone, thank you), lotion, Frosty the Snowman, your flask of "medicine," liquified natural gas (to power your laptop), and toothpaste, in addition to anything 'icky.'

2) No Talking -- Anyone seen talking during a flight relinquishes their right to a fair and speedy trial, as it is likely they are speaking in code about when they are going to mix their aloe vera and Crest in the bathroom for maximum carnage. If you do so, the stewards will have forms on hand to forward your mail to Guantamano Bay (see: X-Ray, non-medical).

3) NO CELL PHONES!! -- Despite the fact that a billion dollar piece of machinery can fly five miles high at speeds in excess of 500 mph through a lightening storm, your crappy little phone that doesn't even search the web properly can bring that puppy down like a cheetah on a wildebeast. Be reasonable people, it's just common sense.

4) No machetes -- We know the Large Sword and Knife Ban has been in effect for quite some time, I just wanted to mention it again for those traveling with small children or supervisors.

5) Call Buttons -- You are no longer able to 'ding!' the stewards. While not technically a National Security measure, it is now considered sexual harrassment, and has been discontinued (see: ashtrays, full of gum). For those passengers who still want to ask pressing questions of the flight crew such as, "Is there a patio?," or "Why do I have a flotation device on my cross-country flight?," the answers are 1) only for 1st class passengers, and 2) airlines only crash into the Great Salt Lake, and on weekends, Lake Tahoe.

For more on World War III, Joe Lieberman's candidacy in the Bull-Moose Party, and advanced breathing techniques for Sudoku, I'm sorry, I've got nothing for you.