Loud-mouthed liberal feminist. Anarchist knitter. Tequila-drinking artsy-smartsy fat chick. Bluesy folk-rock singer-songwriter. Rebel with too many causes. Quirky eclectic pagan poet. Paradoxical intuitive smartass. Sarcastic brainiac insomniac. You know, for starters.


Cleveland, oh, Cleveland: how do I loathe thee?

I don't fucking believe this.

Cleveland sucks so much, you can't even get the fuck out of it!!

I'm typing this from a payphone terminal at the airport where not one, but two flights to Chicago have been cancelled for who knows what fucking reason. I'm on my third airline at my third concourse and third gate, and about fucking tired of this shit. If I don't get home before 10 p.m., I am *SO* taking a half day tomorrow. this is fucking ridiculous. What the fucking fuck lame ass crap airport is this?! Who the hell cancels flights to Chicago O'Hare, the world's BUSIEST GODDAMN AIRPORT!!!!

Okay, feeling a little better now. But only a little.

The real sad part is that now I'm relegated to airport dinner options: either Pizza Hut Express, or Starbucks sandwiches. Hmmm...if only I had time to run to the Tequileria, waaaaaaay back in another terminal; they had a twelve foot wall of different tequilas. I bet I could have some fun in there.

Meanwhile, Cleveland sucks. I could say it a thousand times and it still wouldn't convey the amount of loathing I hold for this place, with its shitty bug-looking "Rapid" (a miserable train that only dreams of being as cool as the el) with it's weird-looking antenna and ugly wires everywhere, with its CRAP airport, with itslame-ass Lake Erie and the stupid river and miles upon miles of dead factory husks, falling to pieces in rusty chunks and bits of broken glass. The only saving grace has been the people, who by and large are very friendly, with typical Midwestern style. The Jamaican nurse I met on the way to the airport was very sweet - we talked the whole train ride about travelling and meeting different kinds of people and how much fun it was to experience different environments. Then there was the cutey-pie high school kid at the newspaper shop where I bought my pre-flight gum, who threw in a bottle of water for free because I winked at him when I caught him staring down my shirt (I can't help it that thisparticular shirt gives a very good view of the cleavage....I didn't know that when I bought it, and it's too cute not to wear it!).

Anyway, the people are nice, but the city itself bites my ass. Hard.
Goddamn! It's only 7:00. Another hour before I can even bother checking on my frickin' flight. Jesus, Mary,and Joseph, when I get home, I swear I am never gracing this godforsaken town with my presence!
Yeah, phrased that with extra modesty, didn't I?

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