Well, I made it to Texas. Got lost amidst time zones, but I figure it for about twenty-eight hours from leaving my lady wife in India and checking into my hotel in Austin around one this afternoon. The length of the journey aside, everything went pretty smoothly – well done American Airlines, will recommend you to my friends, etc. Very odd having a beer at Chicago during the flight changeover and realising it was six thirty in the morning, and I was therefore enjoying a liquid breakfast despite my body insisting it was at least twenty-eight o’clock.
I gather there’s a bit of a drought on here at the moment, which is unfortunate for the locals, but means I was greeted by a lovely sunny day on landing. It’s still a good ten degrees cooler than New Delhi, which is just starting to bake horribly, so nice and refreshing. Went for a wander to try and keep myself awake, and possibly ate some alligator. I say possibly, because it both looked and tasted exactly like chicken, leaving me wondering whether I’ve been conned. Alligatorgate. Doesn’t slide easily off the tongue.
Saw Jack Ketchum having a quiet coffee in the hotel courtyard. I managed not to rush up to him saying “HEY! HEY! YOU’RE JACK KETCHUM!” In the first instance, this is something he already knows. In the second, the convention doesn’t actually start until tomorrow, so I’ll leave it until then before I humiliate myself all over the place like the worst kind of fan boy.
Tried having a couple of beers, which sent me to slumber about six this evening. Woke up an hour ago, around midnight, strangely convinced that it was eleven in the morning and I’d overslept. This rather mundane post therefore comes to you courtesy of jet lag, and a need to kill an hour before I try to hit the pillow again.