You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here.

We arrived in Alaska at roughly 5:30 this morning after a long flight on a cargo jet. Turns out C-17's are comfortable for sitting for an hour or two, but not so comfy for trying to sleep. Live and learn.

Anyway, upon our arrival, we were informed that our 2-4 hour layover was now a 24 hour layover. Eventually, we learned that this was because of a tropical storm in Yokota, which is our current destination. Oh well, can't be helped.

But the tricky part was that we couldn't stay in the airport. They couldn't even be bothered with a shuttle or some other mode of transportation to one of the hotels. The plane ticket was free, I keep telling myself. The plane ticket was free. After all manner of clusterfuckery, we finally got to a hotel and hit the hay around 7:30 am. We woke up around noon and have been slacking off ever since, killing time before we go to the airport at 5:00 tomorrow morning.

In theory, I could be out and about taking pics of my first ever trip to Alaska right now, but I'm not. Instead, I am chilling in a hotel room on a comfortable bed eating Hot Pockets and fucking off on the internet. Why? Because I can. And because I'm tired and sore.

Actually, it's not all bad: I got my final edits for Between Brothers, and can now look that over, because I have loads of time on my hands. YAY!

Still, I could do without the bruises all over my ribs, hips, and knees, but such is the risk of sleeping on a cargo jet. After all...

The plane ticket was free.