Last winter, I pussed out after months of relentless snow-n-ice (the locals call this winter, and I can tell you, I am not a fan) and drove west with two chihuahuas, one barely 3 months old. We ended up spending 7 weeks on an air mattress in my still-empty old San Francisco flat. There was nothing there except a chair (which I stood on in the kitchen, since the only place I got wireless was on the top of the fridge), a ladder, my blow-up mattress (surprisingly comfy, until about week 6), and the box the air mattress came in next to the bed, with a borrowed lamp on it.
Sleeping—or lounging—on air is a little like being on water. It’s got a different give than a regular mattress, especially when you make any side-to-side motion. Air is not as immediately sloshy as those old Land-and-Sky waterbeds you sometimes see at garage sales, but if you’re not fully inflated, you can fall into an air pocket (or, more precisely, a no-air pocket).
For fun, I rented DVDs and watched them on my 12-inch Powerbook wearing my puffy headphones; the kind more commonly referred to as “cans.” That’s how I watched my first episodes of The Office, propped on pillows against the wall, sunk deep into my cloud of air. I even watched out of order: Season 3, then season 2, then season 1 (which was annoyingly difficult to find, and by that point I was jonesing like a scabbed-out crack monkey in need of a hit). And finally season 4, downloaded from iTunes while at work, then watched in the evening, decorated by dogs. (more…)