Not cool.

You know what is Not Cool?

* Sitting on an airplane for 11 hours (four of those on a runway).
* Getting diverted to BIRMINGHAM, instead of Atlanta, to pick up fuel on the runway because the jet was too damn big to pull up to the gates at that shitty little airport.
* Finally arriving in Atlanta. At 2 a.m. Only to find out you've missed your connecting flight (duh).
* Sleeping in the airport, only to learn you haven't made the 10:29 a.m. flight you've been waiting since 2 a.m. for.

Just for the record, I looked totally gangsta while attempting to sleep with my hoodie pulled tight over my head and the fake Coach sunglasses on I bought at Fisherman's Wharf on Thursday after I forgot one of the three pairs I brought with me back at the hotel.

I've had an hour of sleep (8:35 a.m. to 9:32 a.m., for the record). I'm too exhausted to think. Here -- have some random trip photos to tide you over:

Bill at the Chinatown entrance. He's not the tool in the sportcoat.

Me shopping in Chinatown. (A brief aside, here. My highlights look good. Props to my bat-shit crazy hairdresser. She's psychic, and colby cheese helps her "powers." I am not shitting you.)

A Streetcar Named "Holy Jesus, We Found Somebody to Take Our Pic Together."

I drove over this. In an SUV.

Finally, boys and girls, I leave you with these. We watched this poor couple try to drag this little schooner out of the bay for, like, 10 minutes. (I want a schooner for Christmas, BTW. Bill wouldn't buy me one, but I'd be the only cool kid on the cul-de-sac if he did. All the Desperate Housewives who live here would be totally jealous of my backyard schooner.) Bill thought it was humorous to watch and took pictures.

No, we didn't bother to offer to help. Which, in retrospect, might have been a little heartless... But I was COLD. And like I really know how to get a schooner out of the ocean.