Life imitates art. That's what they say. Well, since this is my art, I should really be careful about being so cynical all the time. I should have figured that poking fun at the world around me would send shock waves into the cosmos that come back around to bite me in the butt! This week started out with life dealing me some incredible material that requires no embellishment whatsoever. Life gave me all the sarcasm I needed for today's entry.
I had to travel to Ohio for a Monday morning meeting. I was amazed that a week prior I was able to book a non-stop flight both to and from Columbus. That has never happened. I left SLC on Sunday morning, leaving me plenty of time after my flight to rest and be prepared for the next morning. Upon arrival at the airport, my best laid plans and optimism for a smooth trip began to decline quite rapidly.
The shuttle bus from the parking lot was pulling away from the stop right as I arrived, so I had to wait another 10 minutes for the next one. Once aboard the next bus, I sit and watch as a passenger at the next stop tries to put an oversized suitcase on the top storage rack. It clearly didn't fit, so I'm thinking the guy will just put it on the bottom rack designed for larger bags, or move over about two feet to the next rack which was completely empty. Nope, instead he shoves and rearranges all the bags already on the top rack, so he can squish his suitcase in. I glanced around and saw a few other folks also staring on in disbelief. What a wank! We were at the next stop by the time he sat down.
In the security line, I'm always amazed how many travellers still don't have that "no liquids" thing down. It's apparent to me at this point that I travel way too much! I have my 3.0 oz. liquids nice and neat in a zip-loc baggie ready to go. The lady right in front of me is bewildered when the TSA guy tells her that she needs to either drink her entire unopened bottle of water or throw it away. It was the most agonizing dilemma of this woman's life. Eh-hemmm, excuuuuse me while I butt in line. Moving on. Now there's a family with two little kids in front of me. The parents clearly haven't done this before. It took them forever to figure out how to put all their crap in the totes and on the conveyor. Once through to the other side, the promised land (the side of the airport where you can get a Diet Coke and not have to throw it out at security) not far now, the little family is elated to see their precious belongings scooting out the other side of the x-ray machine. Huge pet peeve alert: I hate it when people stop right there and re-dress!!! Come on, pick up your crap, walk out of the security line and then put your shoes on. Grrrr.
Now can I get breakfast? The lines at the old stand-bys were way too long, so I take a chance that there's decent food near the gate. Score, a bagel place, with fountain Diet Coke!
Now, this supposedly wonderful, non-stop flight to Columbus is really one of the puddle jumper planes. But that's okay, because there's no chance of having to suffer with a center seat. But of course, I end up in the seat next to the guy who needs a seat belt extender. Still, I'll survive. I have a good book, and I don't need to pee (for once). I can sit uncomfortably in my seat for three hours.
By the time drink service was through, I'm hopeful the remainder of the flight will be pleasant. However, the kid in the seat behind me quickly corrected that line of thinking when he began kicking the back of my seat. I'd like to thank this child's parents for their GenX approach to parenting - you know, let the kid do what he wants - for the entire flight!!!
My joy is increased when the guy next to me tips over his drink and it spills all down my leg and into my shoe. Now my jeans are wet and my socks are soggy. The guy tries to apologize but more or less laughs it off. Yes, I'm amused. Life imitating art!
It's about the time my drink buddy falls asleep that it hits....I'm really nauseous! Weird, I don't get plane sick. But the sweats are hitting hard and I'm fumbling around in the seat-back pocket for the barf bag, just in case. I try to distract my thoughts by reading and then my neighbor wakes up and asks to get out. I love that! When he returned, I try to head to the restroom. But I end up like 10th in line. I didn't really care, because I knew I'd be bumped to the front of the line once I started puking. Luckily it never happened and I was content to just sit and get kicked for the rest of the flight. "Get me off this plane" was my mantra. It became quite soothing.
Once off the plane and in the rental car office, I had to sit down for a bit. As I started to feel up to standing at the counter, I get up only to have three other people rush in ahead of me. Nice. So I sit back down. I do believe that rental car transactions are something equivalent to a week long journey in the desert on a horse with no name. It takes these guys for freaking-ever to hand over a set of keys and it's excruciatingly difficult to understand them. And it didn't help that the lady in front of me asked every single question imaginable about rental cars before she was done. A half-hour later, I get my turn. I'm standing next in line when some guy on a cell phone breezes by, walks right up in front of me as the guy at the counter is calling "Next", which he arrogantly assumes means him! Really? And of course, when I finally get my bright yellow car and am trying to leave the garage, the slow poke question lady was blocking the exit lane doing an inspection on her car. Even the garage attendant shared my pain. As he eventually waved me through, he apologized, commenting that some people are just stupid. Finally, someone with true widsom!
Fast forward to the hotel, here it comes! I puked my guts out! I'm quite certain I have the bagel place to thank for that! Then I puked some more. The rest of the night was spent writhing in agony with stomach cramps. The last time I was in that much pain, I was rewarded with my cute little squishy Bear baby. The only prize I get from this was a long night in a strange bed.
Okay, okay, I know you are totally bored and wishing I would stop writing. Well, just stop reading, duh!!! Maybe by now you are feeling the misery I was in. Good, my job here is done. Almost.
I did survive the night and even managed to improve throughout Monday. It was the very end of the return flight that just put perfectly punctuated the end of the trip. I was seated in the very last row of the plane. I was in the "window seat", but there was no window, just the wall. Even still, I made it through the flight without any upheavals. I didn't even have to pee. That's probably because I was too scared to eat or drink anything all day. I didn't want to have to revisit any meals a second time! Why is it that it takes sooooo long for people to get off a plane? It's all the more apparent when you're seated on the very last row. Finally, finally, finally, the plane is nearly empty and I'm waiting for the person in the next row over to get out of the way. She got her bag from the overhead compartment and rumages around for a while, then folds her jacket, rearranges her bag again, fixes her hair, chit-chats with the flight attendant, then throws her bag over her shoulder. As she turns around to leave, she looks down at me and says in complete seriousness, "Oh, aren't you getting off?" As I bite back my tongue that was ready to spout "Umm, I can't until you move your ass!", I smile and nod.
Yes, I would love to stay on the plane and do this trip all over again! Life - no embellisment necessary.
It's NOT a shrine! (No coersion by the TBSFUS victim has taken place to get me to say that. I am reporting this of my own free will and have not been paid off with M&Ms to make such a statement!)
The minute I brought her home, she bonded with everyone in the house, with the exception of course of the other two cats! By the way, I've never introduced you to Gus Gus and Ella (maybe you've met Ella, but she's worth mentioning again). Aren't they cute?
Oh my holy flippin' heck! Yes, nothing sells a pair of 30-year-old nylons like topless fat hotties wearing tights! The best part was, they had more than one package of these lovely Big Mama nylons! 
