After a long day of travel, my good friends (Sarah Barlow and Jamie Delaine) made it to our other good friend, David Jay's, house.
I'm not gonna lie - glad I am here. And not traveling for the moment haha
There is something about airplane travel. It’s a special little part of life.
People get weird on airplanes. We touch each other – quite comfortably – for hours on end. I mean, there is no where else to go, but I def had an arm and yellow shirt sleeve of Mr. Grandpa on my shoulder all flight.
We freak out about little packs of food. We are such preschoolers.
“It’s snack time kids!”
“You need to sit still and wait patiently. Now, who wants water and pretzels?”
“MeeEeee! Pick me!”
We all pretend we know how high a “cruising altitude of 30,000 feet” is and how that will interfere with the “south-easterly winds coming from the gulf” but since “it’s dry and around 70 degrees” we should be able to descend on time. Clearly. Duuuh.
It’s good times.
Oh! And airplane air conditioning. We all know the little nub of a fan on the roof of airplanes. Why do they never work quite right? I will admit, I am bad at aiming the thing to begin with. Either it’s pointed at the top of my head and my bangs are blowing like the American flag at a highschool football game, or it’s pointed at my neck drilling a hole to my bones.
But that’s more my deal. I take the blame. However, I don’t know what to do with the temperature. When I first sat down, the air was blowing so hard and so fast and so coldly. My cheek fat was swirling around and my eyelids were rippling. I looked like a dog sticking it’s head out the window on a summer day. Def too strong.
I had to turn it down. I nudged it a bit.
Just a sweet, gentle nudge.
Oh oh, Wait. Did I turn it off? My trusty pointer finger reached up to feel – yes, it was on. I had to leave my finger there, resting on top of the valve just to feel any air. I was trying to get any cool air I could. Just a drop, please? Please, cool air, run down my finger and down my arm and to the rest of me and cool me off! Wasn’t happening.
So the whole flight I battled the devilish air conditioning, remembering it’s so not the worst thing in the world. There are much rougher things. Like I could be in a wheelchair! I could be in a wheelchair with no phone on me! Or cash! And I could be trying to go visit my children in San Francisco and the flight attendants could wheel me off in Phoenix. And I could get lost in the Phoenix airport, like the dear woman on my plane did.
That’s right. The flight attendants lost a passenger.
Missing luggage is one thing, misplacing a passenger is kind of different. After waiting an extra 30 minutes, the little lady was still missing and our plane had to leave without her. SO SAD! I felt horrible – I do hope that she made it to San Francisco alright and that her family wasn’t too worried!
But my air travel is done for now. Holla. And now small-bladder-Drill-Sergeant-Delaine is trying to get us to go running. And Sarah is catching up on Kevin Jonas and listening to Michael Jackson.
Seeeee ya later!