A borderline play by play of my day of travel!
7:15am- Get picked up by Steve for work so I can leave my car at home rather than pay to park at the airport [daily] for the week. Steve (who is wonderful at life) brought me coffee. Two birds here: he thinks he’s being a sweetheart, and I allow him to live another day.
11:00am- Print boarding pass and choose seat assignment. I chose 25A because the 25th row is a lucky row in all AA flights and A because I like the window. That last sentence was a lie. I chose it because it was open, free and I like the window.
12:25pm- Open email from twitter that @MsJxn favorited my tweet about live blogging my trip. And now she’s in my live blog. You see people? It really is just THAT easy to become immortalized (exaggeration) in my blog.
5:38pm- Daniel sets his out of office message and we leave the office for the week. See ya bitches!!
5:54pm- En route to airport. Would have stopped to buy Dan food, but we left later than planned. Sorry Daniel (if you ever read this… Which you won’t.)
6:06pm- Enter security behind the most nervous traveller ever. She’s asked 4 TSA’s why security is heightened and if she should be worried. No you should not be worried that security is heightened during the busiest travel week of the year. What you should be worried about is why you’re Canadian and how to fix that (this is a confirmed fact… Her passport says “Canada” on the front.)
6:19pm- I am at the gate. Bored. Security took a whopping 13 minutes. Heightened security my liquids toting ass. Walking around the airport terminal in search of food. There are too many people at the only food joint in terminal 3: a gross smelling pizza place. FLL-0, most other airports-1
6:24pm- I found a bar. No need for food now. I was just gonna post the picture but this editor won’t let me incorporate it.
6:45pm- I checked in my bag at the counter so that someone who needs theirs overhead has room for it. I’m a good person. Now back to my double vodka beverage.
7:04pm- I’m boarding!!! (The jetway… Frowny face herpes.) I’ll just be standing with my large purse and DVBev. Half gone. I’m a pessimist when it comes to vodka. Waiter? I need another. Post haste!!
7:12pm- I was about to blog about the lady sharing my row and instead I just realized my last time stamped post included a joke that’s moderately “inside.” Sorry about that. Unless you got it. In which case, you’re welcome for brightening up this otherwise mundane live blog.
7:14pm- Now to share and describe my row-mates: I have the window as previously stated. Chick on the aisle is about 50, has short red and blonde dyed hair that is WAY too gelled into crunchy curls, teacher glasses with fake gems on the temples and a leopard print zipper sweatshirt. I shall call her “50+ ex stripper.” Dude in middle just came from work in his button down. He is reading “The Price of Politics.” I shall call him “Corporate Douche.”
7:18pm- Corporate Douche is in the wrong seat. His ticket is for 23B. He’s in 25B. I hope someone comes for this seat and I hope he refuses to give it up.
7:21pm- Oh fucking joy. An infant is two rows away… By the way, the cabin door is closed, everyone is seated and no one brought Corporate Douche to fisticuffs over his seat. In hindsight, maybe the ticket he used as a bookmark was from a different flight. I’m dumb.
7:48pm- I lied before. The baby is just one row in front of me. Someone give that kid an Ambien. Or better yet, give ME a xanny-bar! I’m dressed up and I’m trying to pretend these are the days of yore when flying was a pleasure…instead of an airbus seven-forty-hell hole where your child is the only distraction from the recycled cough and cold cabin air and the ugly flight attendants not paying attention to my need for another DVBev!
7:49pm- I just tried to get on the inflight wifi and learned that it costs $3.50 for an hour. Fuck that. No Internet usage is important enough for this poor girl. I’ll save my $3.50 for my next double vodka drink. Or the 1/3 of a DVBev that will buy me.
7:50pm- They’re showing The Odd Life of Timothy Green. AKA the shitty garden child movie Nicky and I went to intending to make ourselves cry. It was too dumb for tears. Double vodka needed…
8:31pm- I just woke up from an accidental 45 minute nap and I need to pee badly. Except I am stuck in the inside seat. Corporate Douche is still reading, 50+ ex stripper is grossly eating a sandwich.
8:33pm- Correction/Note: the sandwich isn’t gross…the way she’s eating it makes me want to hit her in the mouth.
7:37pm- We’ve changed time zones. Probably somewhere over Nashville. Or the gates of hell. One of the two. I just flipped open the skymall to this picture of a “unique shirt” (see below) and not only do I want to violently kick someone while they’re wearing this shirt, I also want to buy it for at least two sorry pieces of human I know… So I can justify kicking them…
8:18pm- Only an hour and 10 minutes more. The flight is turbulent. I hope it’s big turbulence with huge falls. This flight is BOR-INGl. I’m suddenly understanding why the mile high club exists. It’s something to do for 7 minutes after you spend 28.9 minutes figuring out the best stance and position in the “fun sized” latrine. Wonder what Corporate Douche is doing for the next 35.9 minutes. He isn’t wearing a ring…
8:33pm- Corporate Douche IS wearing a ring. They just announced the score of the bears game. 17-0, 49ers. Really glad I didn’t bet on this one. Cutty, get back in the game, G D it!
9:26pm- I’ve landed in the most perfectly amazing city on the planet.
9:33pm- Corporate Douche and I just bonded over wanting to drug the crying baby – or ourselves – heavily and laughed at the fact that my response to my mom’s description of her rental car (it’s a big red excursion. It looks big and red) which was “well I look like your daughter. I hope you can find me.”
Meet me in Chicago. I’ll be here a week.