A mile high

Lazing in my 10th floor room in the Mile High City, Denver. After a white knuckle, turbulence-filled flight, sitting alone in the very last row of a disconcertingly-loud plane, I feel up to nothing more than laying under my duvet and watching America's Next Top Model until the boys arrive. Let me just say that I am a big baby when it comes to flying; while other people were calmly conversing across the aisle that, to my eyes, kept shuddering in front of me, I mentally flirted with images of massive fireballs sweeping down the cabin, or cartwheeling towards the earth still buckled into my seat. Yes, I keep the belt on throughout the flight, though I'm fairly certain that if anything did go down, it wouldn't be much help.
But hey, it wasn't just me that had issues. There was another person that was in tears and even vomited a couple times... of course she was about four years old, but she made me look like a stone-faced marine by comparison. I think I deserve at least some credit for not being reduced to weeping like a child...
Anyway, tomorrow the activities begin. I'm deliberating between getting some sleep, or hitting a show tonight. We shall see. I have to see what the guys are up to when they get in; I just got word that they have landed and are on their way, so we'll figure it all out when they get here.