The flight from Dallas to San Francisco wasn't too bad. They showed "Talledega Nights: A Ballad of Ricky Bobby". Luckily I hadn't seen it, so it passed some time. Did a little reading, looked out the window. Plane stuff.

Landed in San Francisco and the schedule said I had an hour to catch my next plane. I was hoping to have a sit down, but first I needed to ensure I knew where my other flight was. Fourty-five minutes later I boarded my flight to Sydney. No sit-down. Took me fourty-five minutes to get to the flight! I had to leave the airport and re-enter in the international terminal. Cough.

Had an Aussie seat mate. She wasn't all that exciting, I chattered in her direction a few times, she responded, but never said anything to me. I looked at the food I could expect on the flight; Maui Chicken Salad, mmm. We waited for about thirty minutes or so for other people from connecting flights to get on. My plan was to ration my reading material and laptop battery, then go to sleep at midnight Australian time.

I read and read and sat and stared and read and finally decided to watch Apollo 13. Watched, battery dead. Almost Aussie midnight. My attempt at sleep got me about six hours of feeling like I was trying to come out of sedation. Two hours later, I was in Australia. Oh, the dinner, no Maui Chicken Salad. They served dinner, choice of chicken or pasta, few hours later a snack pack, and then breakfast as we were coming into Australia. Decent enough. My biggest gripe is the four inch reclining capability of cheap-ass (ie. economy) seating. Just enough to make you think you're going to get comfortable! Dicks.