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It was a mighty good trip.
It was grand to see friends and family that I don't get to see much anymore.
It was nice that all of my anxiety melted away. I dealt with assorted hiccups that came along the way, and really focused on my time with people.
Somewhere between Heathrow and LA, I discovered I had lost my credit card. I felt soooooooo dumb. Thankfully I had my debit card, and the debit card for our American bank account. I was going to be fine.
The flight out was a long long day. No way around that one. The day I was flying out, I woke up at five am with my left ear in pain. This is worrisome before going on a long flight. I took something for the pain, and quickly looked up the nearest walk-in clinic if the pain didn't go away. (not far and it opened at eight.) Thankfully the pain did go away. (I probably slept on it funny.) But I didn't quite go back to sleep. I dozed. Lightly. How irritating is that? I dragged myself out of bed, repacked, checked out, and then took the bus to Ottolenghi to pick up pastries to bring to a friend. (always bring tupperware when traveling. You can keep pretty food in good shape.) Then I zipped on the bus to the train station, and took the train out to the airport. Getting through security wasn't too much of a hassle but they searched/swabbed my bag, and so that by the time I got through that I was worn out. "What do you mean I have to get on a plane and fly nearly twelve hours for the first leg? Are you crazy?"
I had a moment on a moving walk-way where a lady tripped right in front of me and I asked her if she was all right and she sneered at me and said, "yeah, as long as people aren't hurrying along and bumping into me." I hadn't even touched her. I looked at her in surprise and said, "oh!" and carried on my way. I did think, "hope she isn't on my flight."
She was. Of course.
I was sitting near this American woman who was rather loud, and wanted to tell her fellow passengers her life story. She also took offense to people passing by. The best moment was when angry moving walk-way woman encountered this loud woman, and they both gave each other the biggest, "Bitch, please" looks. A meeting of minds.
The woman who sat next to me only got up once the entire flight. (towards the end) Because of that, she made me anxious. "OMG...what if she gets a clot in her leg? She neeeeds to move and stretch." I worry about strangers and their blood clots.
When I landed in LA, I had to go through security...again. and take off my damn shoes. Because espadrilles made of rubber, fabric, and rope are a serious problem. Then I ventured into the terminal and it was an assault upon the senses as I hadn't really slept. How can you sleep on those flights?
Everything was loud, and awful, and the wi-fi was bullshit. LAX has a tiered system. The free version that requires you to download an app or watch a video. OR you can pay for nice internet. Maybe it is part of a plan on the part of LAX to make people want to go go go. "get me out of this loud hell where the internet is shitty, and it's the worst parts of the US."
There was a brief period where they said my flight to SFO would be delayed by an hour and a half. When you are so tired you almost weep when you hear this news. But my eyes were so dry that they couldn't weep. Maybe they sensed my imaginary tears and moved us to another gate and got that flight out on time.
I sat next to some nice college girl who I exchanged glances of, "OMG' with, because of the man behind us. I can only describe him as the most Texan Texan in existence. He sounded a bit like Yosemite Sam. He said a line I will never forget, "I don't want to pussyfoot around. If you want, we can meet up at the gun club for drinks." He was on the phone to many people while we waited to taxi out. He also had this insane tee-hee laugh. He actually "tee-heed". He shot the shit with his seat-mate. He likes to surf, look for poon-tang, drink liquor, and have a good time. And shit gets real when he is in town. (so SF beware.) He was also about 65 years old. He provided me with entertainment. It shows how tired I was, that I could pass out in the midst of that conversation. Even if it was only for an hour.
We landed in SF. I was tired. So tired. Soooooooooo very tired. I got on the BART and willed myself to stay awake. "Come on Gen. Only five.more.stops. Stay awake. You don't want to end up in Concord or something." I got off and walked up the hill to the hotel and that nice lady at the front desk got me checked in so fast. She even offered me some hot cookies. What a beautiful woman.
Getting to my room, taking a shower to wash off the travel stank, and putting on PJs was such a sweet feeling. I passed out so hard. (around 10pm. I had been awake about 24 hours.)
At least until about 2 am. But I made myself go back to bed at 5 and got a few more hours in before another day of movement.
It was grand to see friends and family that I don't get to see much anymore.
It was nice that all of my anxiety melted away. I dealt with assorted hiccups that came along the way, and really focused on my time with people.
Somewhere between Heathrow and LA, I discovered I had lost my credit card. I felt soooooooo dumb. Thankfully I had my debit card, and the debit card for our American bank account. I was going to be fine.
The flight out was a long long day. No way around that one. The day I was flying out, I woke up at five am with my left ear in pain. This is worrisome before going on a long flight. I took something for the pain, and quickly looked up the nearest walk-in clinic if the pain didn't go away. (not far and it opened at eight.) Thankfully the pain did go away. (I probably slept on it funny.) But I didn't quite go back to sleep. I dozed. Lightly. How irritating is that? I dragged myself out of bed, repacked, checked out, and then took the bus to Ottolenghi to pick up pastries to bring to a friend. (always bring tupperware when traveling. You can keep pretty food in good shape.) Then I zipped on the bus to the train station, and took the train out to the airport. Getting through security wasn't too much of a hassle but they searched/swabbed my bag, and so that by the time I got through that I was worn out. "What do you mean I have to get on a plane and fly nearly twelve hours for the first leg? Are you crazy?"
I had a moment on a moving walk-way where a lady tripped right in front of me and I asked her if she was all right and she sneered at me and said, "yeah, as long as people aren't hurrying along and bumping into me." I hadn't even touched her. I looked at her in surprise and said, "oh!" and carried on my way. I did think, "hope she isn't on my flight."
She was. Of course.
I was sitting near this American woman who was rather loud, and wanted to tell her fellow passengers her life story. She also took offense to people passing by. The best moment was when angry moving walk-way woman encountered this loud woman, and they both gave each other the biggest, "Bitch, please" looks. A meeting of minds.
The woman who sat next to me only got up once the entire flight. (towards the end) Because of that, she made me anxious. "OMG...what if she gets a clot in her leg? She neeeeds to move and stretch." I worry about strangers and their blood clots.
When I landed in LA, I had to go through security...again. and take off my damn shoes. Because espadrilles made of rubber, fabric, and rope are a serious problem. Then I ventured into the terminal and it was an assault upon the senses as I hadn't really slept. How can you sleep on those flights?
Everything was loud, and awful, and the wi-fi was bullshit. LAX has a tiered system. The free version that requires you to download an app or watch a video. OR you can pay for nice internet. Maybe it is part of a plan on the part of LAX to make people want to go go go. "get me out of this loud hell where the internet is shitty, and it's the worst parts of the US."
There was a brief period where they said my flight to SFO would be delayed by an hour and a half. When you are so tired you almost weep when you hear this news. But my eyes were so dry that they couldn't weep. Maybe they sensed my imaginary tears and moved us to another gate and got that flight out on time.
I sat next to some nice college girl who I exchanged glances of, "OMG' with, because of the man behind us. I can only describe him as the most Texan Texan in existence. He sounded a bit like Yosemite Sam. He said a line I will never forget, "I don't want to pussyfoot around. If you want, we can meet up at the gun club for drinks." He was on the phone to many people while we waited to taxi out. He also had this insane tee-hee laugh. He actually "tee-heed". He shot the shit with his seat-mate. He likes to surf, look for poon-tang, drink liquor, and have a good time. And shit gets real when he is in town. (so SF beware.) He was also about 65 years old. He provided me with entertainment. It shows how tired I was, that I could pass out in the midst of that conversation. Even if it was only for an hour.
We landed in SF. I was tired. So tired. Soooooooooo very tired. I got on the BART and willed myself to stay awake. "Come on Gen. Only five.more.stops. Stay awake. You don't want to end up in Concord or something." I got off and walked up the hill to the hotel and that nice lady at the front desk got me checked in so fast. She even offered me some hot cookies. What a beautiful woman.
Getting to my room, taking a shower to wash off the travel stank, and putting on PJs was such a sweet feeling. I passed out so hard. (around 10pm. I had been awake about 24 hours.)
At least until about 2 am. But I made myself go back to bed at 5 and got a few more hours in before another day of movement.
