Swiss Bliss

My parents were kind enough to grant me some of their frequent flier miles so that I could begin this jaunt in business class on the newly relogoed Swiss (in their newfound grooviness, they have dropped the "Air," I believe) and all I can say is Holy Jesus. It's sort of like going on a date with someone who you plan on sleeping with, yet they are pulling out all the stops regardless. There's a cheese plate and then the chic atttendants seem displeased if you refuse another dessert. Then they come around with a tray of Lindt chocolates and keep making you take them. Okay, they don't make you, but they definitely look at you severely.

I got about three hours of sleep and now I'm taking advantage of the free internet in their posh lounge and trying to use the rearranged keyboard and deleting all the unnecessary umlaüts. I have no idea if I spelled that correctly, but that ü just came out of nowhere.

This is sört of addictive.