It's starting to come clear to me just how messed up a city Cleveland really is. First, if you're flying to Cleveland on Continental (a shit airline) make sure they're not planning to have you use Terminal D. It's about 15 nautical miles from the main entrance. You may as well use Akron airport for all the extra time you'll need to allot.

Second, make sure you're going to be in a plane larger than a 1970s hatchback. For me, the sice of the plane doesn't really matter much -- until you tell me I have to gate-check my carry-on bag (the carry-on bag I've already overstuffed in order to avoid having to check luggage period). So there I was, on another overbooked flight compressed into an undersize plane, cramped in a seat that squeaked and clicked whenever I moved (which was often, as the anti-ergonomics of its design was making my ass-bone scream) wondering how long it would take me to get my bag back once we landed.

Answer: a while.

Once I got it I made the epic journey back to the main terminal and out to the cab line. The cabbie was glad to see me -- until I told him where I was going. He went insane -- Berea is very close to the airport, so this poor bastard probably sat in a line hoping for a big payday and all he got was a short haul. And he was so annoyed I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel. Hey, if you got a rule against short haul trips, hang a sign on your cab announcing that. Or renounce the sweet-heart monopoly arrangement the city granted to certain cab companies for picking up fares at the airport.

That'll never happen.

Anyway, it's good to be home -- Da Chimpz are watching their Mario Brothers video, and I'm about to tinker with my wireless router and some new gadgets I got on the trip. I should call Guido -- see if he still feels woozy from that bottle of sake we killed last night.