No wonder I passed out on the ferry. All I was breathing was recirculated air, just like that of Boeing jumbo jets, as if the designers of the ferry had prepared for the flotilla to cruise along on a 30,000 foot wave and still be able to continue regular service. Not even the antics of Moses could stop the Clipper from making her port of call. In the process, natch, I passed out due to lack of oxygen.

This is a frighteningly regular occurence for me. Plane takes off. I pass out. I wake up at landing, smelling of something edible or inhuman or something greaselike, yet always this familiar aroma greets me as the plane lands. Its like a the smell of a hangover, only, I didn't drink anything but fake air.

Speaking of fake air, reeking of a political nature, I was received back to Motherland to a series of questions about whether I was bringing any produce or meat back from Canada. I said no. He asked if I was sure. I said that I was certain I had no Canadian food other than vacuum sealed Basmati imported from Calcutta.

The customs agent then told me that the.reason for the interrogation was because Canadian beef was not allowed into the U.S. for fear of Hoof and Mouth contamination. Now, imagine me, a bit cranky for recovering from Post-Circulated-Air-Trauma. I couldn't just let this go.

"Wasn't that assertion disproved a month ago?"

"Well, maybe, but the USDA still doesn't allow Canadian beef."

"Sounds like economic warfare to me."

"Maybe, but we don't want people dying."

With that, I mumbled something about how more people die from poverty and paranoia than Hoof and Mouth disease, and he appeasingly let me through. OK, I was kinda cranky, but really, how long does it take to kill rumors at the US Customs? Especially ones that are not only preposterous but damaging to thousands of small farmers. An illegal trade barrier by any other name would smell as sweet as...

God damn this circulated air smell. And I haven't even gotten on the plane yet. Just the ferry!

Anycase, I've made it to SeaTac. Now I wait for the plane and brush up on last-minute Spanish.

Last advice from Cesar: "Con calme." I'm trying. :)