The weekend in St. Thomas turned out to be awesome. I worked all night Saturday night (10pm-11am), then headed straight to the airport from work on Sunday morning. The plane was a small Cessna 402 which seats about seven. I was hoping I'd get to sit in the copilot seat, but that spot was given to an attractive blonde girl (go figure). I did end up sitting just behind her though, so I got to check out all the instrumentation and everything.

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For the last month or so I've had this insidious and steadily increasing desire to get back into flying, and finally get my pilot's license like I originally planned to do when I was 16 (because of the relative priority I gave to the idea, I remember musing that it was very likely that I'd find myself having a pilot's license but no driver's license — needing my parents to drive me to the airfield when I wanted to go up, hehe). Even the harrowing experience of landing in a light jet in tropical storm-force winds hasn't done much to allay my enthusiasm. As a recreational pilot, I can simply choose not to fly if the weather looks like it could turn ugly.

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