Surf's up

I thought I'd do a brief blog now, on account that I might not get to again until I land in the glorious new world. I'm giving my PC and Dongle (God, I wish these tech-boffins would come up with better names) to my retired parents while I'm gone. It'll be their first prolonged encounter with computers or the internet, but I'm quietly confident. If they could handle the blitz and using a mechanized dragline digger then microsoft will be a doddle. Though now I've got a nightmare vision of Microsoft building diggers.

I'll have the option of serendipitous Wi-Fi of course, so I'll probably blog if I get the chance. More likely, I'll Tweet (I'm Jim Worrad there, not James. No, I'm not sure how it works either).

How am I feeling? Like an explosion in an excitement factory mainly. Clarion? San Diego? I don't normally do this kind of thing. I don't even have a game plan really- what's a plan but something that falls apart?- I'll just be receptive. Receptive to the tutors, to my fellow studes, to the workshoping. But more than that, to America. I want to observe the ways of this strange, noble and giddy beast, become a sponge and absorb its alien juices. Oh, and I want to mix metaphors wherever possible.

The ludicrously long flight doesn't appeal. Viewing it through a mental filter of William Gibson or Chuck Palaniuk will probably keep me happy for two hours or so but thats it. If we are to crash, I sincerely hope it occurs early in the flight rather than just before landing. Hey, I'm being practical here.

Either way, I'm 34- older than a lot of people ever got to be and I'll have bought the farm whilst grasping for something I never thought I'd ever get to do. Helluva ride.