Flight Memories

Anytime my bag isn’t the first one on the carousel:

When my mom warned me that my flight wouldn’t take off and I decided to go to the airport anyway:

When the woman at the Lost and Found luggage department said they wouldn’t be able to get my bag for 2-4 hours:

When the captain explained what the de-icing procedure would be like for the plane:

When the guy that checked me off the plane was being super passive aggressive:

When the captain of the flight kept making jokes about having a drink and playing a movie while our flight was delayed:

When I went back to O’Hare and saw the airport worker that was mean to me:

When I told my mom to confront the guy that was mean to me:

When I heard an announcement that my flight was going to take off:

 

My Trip to Bermuda

I think it’s obvious by now that I like to go on trips and see places that I’ve never been to before.  In 2009 my mom and I wanted to go on spring break somewhere besides our go-to spot in Orlando. So we chose Bermuda.

It was easier for both of us to just meet there instead of me flying home ( I was in England at the time). It was nice because the location of Bermuda was right in the middle. Just kidding. I looked at a map just now and its not in the middle at all. It’s much closer to the US. And its along the same line as South Carolina. And on the other side of the pond, it would be level with Morocco.

Flying there, I was super paranoid that something bad would happen as we entered the Bermuda Triangle. This old lady on the plane next to me said that she went there 3 times a year and survived every time so I figured everything would be alright. God wouldn’t let that lady survive all those times and let me die on my first visit, right?

I survived and met my mom at our hotel. The rooms were separated into little villa-type things. Ours was called The Sea Grape. I didn’t even know sea grapes were a real thing, but apparently they are. One memorable aspect of Bermuda was that there were tons of cats. We had a regular cat that would stop by our room every night, eat some of my shrimp cocktail, and then sit on my bed. One night we had at least four cats outside our place.

Ignore my hair and my body and everything else in this picture besides the cat.

The weather was nice and sunny while we were there but it wasn’t as warm as we had been expecting. It was kind of a let down. Leave it to me to complain about a vacation.

We went into the main drag in town and that was fun because we felt like locals. Or at least I did. The capital of Bermuda is Hamilton which is also the name that I gave one of the cats that decided to live with us.

Bermuda is kind of like Canada in that they have their own currency but they’ll accept US bills as well. They’ll just take whatever they can get, really. Which I respect. That’s what I would do.

My very beachy all black apparel.

While we were there we went to the Crystal Caves which were just Carlsbad Cavern-esque caves with stalactites and stalagmites. I’ve seen both many times and I still can’t tell the difference. I remember our tour guide being slightly in love with me though. But really, who isn’t?

Then we went back to our place and decided that Bermuda was kind of lame and didn’t have that much to do so we booked a flight to Orlando. Seriously.

Good-Bye Girl

Sorry I haven’t written a post in years (11 days). I’m sure everyone was constantly refreshing my page in hopes of a new post, but I was on a little vaycay. Everyone needs a vaycay now and then. I hope all the grown men who read this enjoy saying the word vaycay over and over.

I’ve noticed that I’m always coming and going. Leaving loved ones to see other loved ones. I’m here one day and gone a week later. It’s tough when you’re so adored. You have to split up time. But it’s kind of a good thing because I don’t give people enough time to miss me too much. There’s a song by Squeeze called Good-Bye Girl, but I think it’s about some kind of skank that’s always gone in the morning. That’s not the kind of Good-Bye Girl I am. But I really do love the line in the song, “If you ever see her, say hello Good-Bye Girl.”

Saying goodbye is always sad. I have to do it about every 4 months. But then I get to say hello to someone else.

I had to fly a quick 6 hours back home to my husband. The plane ride was pretty smooth except for the person I had to sit next to. He was your typical average Joe. His name might have actually been Joe for all I know. He asked me if I flew this course a lot and I said yeah because I live in Victoria. I asked him the same question, not caring about his response, I just thought it would be nice. Turns out he lives in Seattle. So yeah, boring stuff. I went back to reading my book.

When the stewardess came around to give us our beverages, as Joe grabbed his drink, the worst B.O. I’ve ever smelled entered my nose. First thought: WHY ME? Why do I have to spend hours next to this guy? Life isn’t fair.

So I spent the rest of the flight with my blanket up to my face as a nose guard. I had some relief in watching Kevin Hart’s stand up that was on the TV. I think Smelly Joe thought I had tourettes because I would be perfectly still and then whenever Kevin Hart would say something hilarious, I would start bursting into laughter and shaking. I should have started swearing randomly, then maybe he wouldn’t have tried to kill me with his armpits.

During the middle of the flight Joe went to the bathroom for 10 minutes, I kid you not. Things got smellier. I basically plastered my forehead onto the window and tried to avoid looking (or smelling) in his direction.

Please lord, help me.

I was lucky enough to have two windows on my side. I put both of their shades down for a while when I was watching my show, and then I raised one up to look at the mountains. Joe literally reached his hand across my lap to open the other window so he could look too. In my head I was like, UMMMM EXCUSE ME? If you get an aisle seat, then you get to go to the bathroom whenever you like and extra leg room. If I get the window seat then guess what? I get control of the windows! And didn’t he say he was from Seattle? You see the Olympic mountain range every day! Go away. You smell like something that came out of my cat’s litter box.

Turns out being a good-bye girl is actually a  great thing because  I got to say good-bye (and good riddance) to Smelly Joe.