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Nice post title. Someday we'll actually (post-apocalyptically and wistfully probably) be saying that when the entire Web is an untangleable hairball of mashed-up wizmos and gidgets. Anyway, what I mean is, about my trip (see below, below the creepy owl).

And I'll keep it short. First, when flying domestically, DO order the vegetarian meal (when booking) if ONLY to have marginally better food MUCH sooner than everyone else. I don't know about you, but yes, I'd like to bring my own but always feel gross pulling out a... sandwich? a wrap? an Italian with the works? which when I pack them don't come with a nice tray and silverware and often I've forgotten napkins. But anyway.

I sat on a another depressing transcontinental Continental flight sans movie (dinky screen showing Dreamgirls -- argh -- and no, I haven't yet purchased the highly necessary univeral headphone jack and will NOT pay $5 for headphones for ANY movie that's not, like, Siriana or Departed or something -- which I doubt would ever play on Continental).

So anyway, (at the risk of sounding rather ageist) what's up with the heartbreak of sitting next to old people? They tell you their life story (unbidden) which is often poignant and even riveting (in this case involving an 82-year old Dutch woman, her Kenyan husband (who sat beside her, ignored), her father in a concentration camp, her move to New York City in 1963, her (and this is where it kind of devolved) love of Nascar and Harlequin Romances -- all fine and good and she even had some wise counsel for whatever lameass insight I threw HER way about MY life and then?

And then... She did what they always do: they just leave. No goodbye, no "Dear, it was a true pleasure. Let me give you my number in case you ever find yourself in northern New Jersey," no NOTHING. It happens more often than I care to admit (is it me?) and I vow to be more vigilant.

One of the best collection of design inspired links I've seen.