January 03, 2009
Hello, 72H
Actually, I came across that last night, but had far too many other irons in the fire to open a window here.
But I laughed out loud to myself anyway. When I got to the part about passengers being charged for each piece of luggage sitting in their closet, I almost spit out my tea.
Because I have a baggage problem. Bags and bags of bags, stuffed inside other bags, zipped into cases, and then put inside bigger bags.
But since I don't check bags, the airlines don't make any extra money on me for that. And since I fly Delta 98% of the time, they would let me check up to three bags for free.
If I checked bags. But I don't. Thanks to wool, UnderArmour, and business casual, I can fit 10 days of clothes and shoes into one 22" wheeled suitcase.
Everything else goes in the backpack.
Just in case you were curious.
Speaking of the backpack, it's sitting on the chair next to the table awaiting it's turn to be packed. I've got a couple of hours before I have to be out the door. I go from here to Detroit, to Nagoya, to Guam, arriving at about one in the morning local time Monday.
The trips back and forth to the west coast were obviously just warm up laps.
Not that I haven't made trips like this before. And longer ones at that. The flight to Japan is less than 14 hours. New York to Johannesburg was 17 and a half hours one leg.
In other news I think I have decided on the size, shape, structure, color, and approximate location of the next tattoo. Subject to change without notice, of course.
So anyway, I was appreciating satire last night, and had the TV on. There was a movie called The Wedding Date. (No surprise I have not seen it before.) The lady and her date are meeting for the first time on an airplane, and the flight attendant says in a sultry voice, "well hello 3B."
I travel too much to not repeatedly ponder my seatmates. Generally the pondring is proportionate to the length of the flight, and includes a destination multiplier.
Although there have been one or two times when the math totally didn't add up.
I was on a short flight from Lansing, Michigan to Chicago. When I got on the plane, I looked down the rows to find my seatmate already seated. I'll just say he was cute, and move on. Because he was also charming, and friendly, and, like me, had some time to spare in Chicago, so we went and had drinks. (Ask me if I like Southern Comfort and 7-Up.)
It's nice when it happens. But more often than not, I don't talk to people when I travel. I used to. When I was young and naive.
Remind me to tell you about this one trip to New Orleans. No time now. Time to get in the shower and pack my (two) bags.
Posted by Angela Tanner at 07:20 AM | Comments (0)
November 13, 2008
Is 6:30 PM Too Early For Bed?
That's the question my body has been asking every night this week. (I'm on the west coast.)
Monday, the answer was no, it's not too early.
Tuesday I managed to stay awake until almost 7:00 PM local time.
Last night I made it until almost 7:30 PM.
Tonight, the hotel I'm staying at is having some sort of event. When I checked in on Sunday (well, early Monday morning - my plane landed after midnight) in my key pack was a parking permit for tonight. One of the folks in my class (also staying at this hotel) was asking during lunch one day if anyone knew what this "event" was.
The answer was a pretty funny one - they called it "Grab a Grandma."
It seems the hotel hosts a party type thing that attracts folks of a certain age, who come here for free booze and to hook up with other folks of a certain age.
My room happens to be on the first floor, and I have a patio outside that overlooks the pool area where said festivities are scheduled to start in about an hour.
Which is 7:00 PM local time.
You can do the math.
Posted by Angela Tanner at 08:53 PM | Comments (0)