I don't mind airplanes. A lot of people hate them, but I don't mind travelling on them once in a while. After all, when you're routinely shipped to London for a recording session on a blockbuster, you can only pitch a fit feasibly every once in a while.
Could have done without that woman using my shoulder as a pillow all of the flight to Shanghai, but I wasn't about to dislodge her, really. If she fell asleep, good for her; I couldn't. I've got a funny feeling in my stomach about this, all of the sudden, and while talking with Famke (can I use her first name now?) helped, it won't go away.
I wonder who else is working on this. Who the director will be.
Just, please, let it not be some whiny person. I can take a lot of things, I can live through a lot, but whining? No. Gets on my nerves real fast.
...not that I'd say that aloud.
And, come to that, I should make sure the housekeeper does a more thorough job, now that I'll be gone for a while. Now that I know this thing is legit. Hopefully there will be a decent phone in this hotel.
...and a bookshop nearby. Please, God. Please.