 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
Tuesday, We're going, we're not going, we're going. . . Ever have one of those days when you wonder just what it was you had done to offend the Fates? Yeah, like that. We found out as soon as we got to the airport that my flight was going to be an hour and a half late, due to the late-arriving inbound flight from Chicago (the only good thing about this was that it gave us more cuddling time). I'd also been crying on and off all night, and I knew I was going to burst into tears the moment I finally cleared Security and turned around to see Lyndon gazing at me wistfully (and by God I was right on both counts). So, bawling like a baby, I wound up dashing into the duty-free liquor section to buy some Bailey's from a somewhat confused Swede, then fled to a nearby bathroom to lock myself into a stall and have a good sinus-clogging howl in semi-privacy before actually boarding the plane, as 1) it disturbs the flight attendants to have a passenger sporadically leaking tears and 2) the pressure changes make it hurt like hell. Phoo. I finally calmed down enough to come out and wait at my gate for the boarding announcement. Which was another half-hour late. We finally get on the plane. Wait some more. There's an announcement -- "We're sorry, but the plane requires some technical work, so please gather up all your belongings and deplane, where we will give you vouchers for lunch at the terminal snack bar." Oy. The plane was supposed to leave at 10:45 am -- after the mechanics, the cleaning, and the deicing of the wings (which is actually kinda interesting -- they spray this orange steaming stuff on them first, then follow up with a green antifreeze that looks psychedelic as all hell) we finally got into the air at 2:00 pm. Needless to say, this made my prebooked transfer at Chicago completely useless. This wasn't as disasterous as it could have been because there are American flights between Chicago and Dallas pretty much every hour, but the airline automatically rebooked all the transfer flights, and when I landed at Chicago I had to hump the bag and box through the Customs X-ray machine, which added umpteen minutes to my transfer time. By the time I got to the check-in desk to find out where my new flight was leaving from, I found out that I had ten minutes to get through security (which was loaded, of course) and down to the gate. Aha. Ahahahahahahaha. Got to hear my name announced over the PA system requesting me to get my ass to the plane before it left, which was a first. In any case, I ran to catch the plane, made it by about a minute, and gasped my way back to Dallas. Where I am now comfortably ensconsed with my Bailey's and a washing machine chugging away with my laundry. If I had my sweetie here, it would be just perfect. As it is, it's merely bearable. *sigh*
|
|
Welcome | Lewis
Carroll | Speculative Fiction | Cool Canadian
Bands
|
