6.25.00 - 21:33:27
I've been doing most of my writing offline so I'm a good five or six days behind. Also, I finally fixed the e-mail link. Didn't even know it was broken!
Stories from the air are de rigueur, but quickly becoming cliché. I’m on my way home, so rest assured, this is the last of them from me. For awhile, anyway.
Delayed as the result of missing “equipment” and weather, I sit in seat 24D sleepy, hungry and very much wishing we were airborne. So far, no fatties, and while this plane is full and I believe the door is bolted shut, I can’t yet rule it out.
Currently reading, “Sleeping with Extra Terrestrials” by Wendy Kaminer, I find myself wishing I had bought a National Enquirer prior to boarding. Not that that would have been particularly possible considering everything at BDL was freakin’ closed, I just wish I had some lighter reading. All this talk about the death of god and atheism just prior to take off is undeniably depressing.
As we sit on the runway, we have just been told they will be showing a “video presentation” (I’m guessing a re-run of Seinfeld or Everybody Loves Raymond). Innocuous and devoid of any real content, these types of shows seem to be safe fare for airlines. While not two seconds ago I was longing for a cheap entertainment fix to alleviate the boredom and keep myself from thinking too much, I find myself disgusted by everyone freaking out and grabbing headsets from the air hostesses milling about. You’d think we were plummeting into Lake Michigan and they were handing out life vests.
While we await our delayed departure, the pilot is kind enough to alert us to every discussion he makes. Continually interrupting our video presentation, he tells us of foul weather and traffic control snags. This last announcement recommended a route north towards Boston and over this whole mess.
I feel my stomach tightening at every word. We could die up there.
I’m outta here for a bit. I’ll come back when we’re airborne. If I die instead, I’ll try my best to haunt the internet. That would be fun, no?
(It’s 8:45, and we’ve been waiting here an hour.)
9:20. Airborne and just given the word that approved portable devices may be turned on. I haven’t the foggiest idea why, but the cabin is freezing. More icy than normal. Cold enough for the pilot to mention it and tell us, “I’ll do my best to warm it up in a few minutes.” What on earth is he going to do that a stewardess and a flip of a thermostat can’t cure? Give us all a hug?
Our ever chatty pilot just announced we’re over Providence now (Hi Brian Pez!) and we’ll be over Kennebunkport shortly. Apparently we are going north to avoid the storms. Considering the fear factor I’m experiencing, I’m ready to fly east straight around the world to avoid threatening weather.
I’ve changed the title of this document from “Journal3” to “CBS Survivor – Australia Edition – Casting Info – Top Secret – Producers Only". You’d be surprised how many people aboard aircraft sneak a peak at what laptop users are doing. While I can’t change the size of the text over the program announcing the title of this document, I can shrink down what I’m writing to nearly illegible to even me. This should give them a good looksee. Considering this plane is heading on to LA after Chicago, I’m not surprised about the nosy parkers I’ve encountered so far.
(Oh, very choppy now. We’re heading over the northern edge of the storm. It’s a little more than freakish.)
Okay, still bouncing, but I’m going to continue. It soothes me. (A nice beer would soothe me more, but they stewardesses are still a few rows ahead.) Anyway, while in a hot tub in Las Vegas, I discovered that if you drop a celebrity's name in the most nonchalant of manners, everyone stops what they are doing to listen in. I was chatting with my co-worker Kelly about another co-worker (we were NOT gossiping, it was only chatting, honest) and I mentioned that she was from LA and did some work for Bruce Willis an Demi Moore.
As soon as the names were mentioned, conversation around us came to a noticeable halt. When I realized this, of course, I ran with it as far as I could go. I recounted a most fictional and bizarre tale of the Willises involving Nazi veterinarians and enormous objects falling from the sky around their property in Colorado.
(As I bounce around trying to type this and wishing I had a Dramamine, the pilot just announced we are experiencing turbulence. He’s so smart!)
I enjoyed the Willis Tales very much and the entire hot tub (which sat 15) seemed to have a good time too.
(How sad. The beer’s seriously skunked. I’ve traded it in for a Coke.)
I’m going to sign off from 30,000 feet. We are beyond the turbulence and about 45 minutes from home. I guess it's safe for me to now go back to reading about the death of God.
If we do hit wind shear on the way down and my body ends up as fuel for an exploding fireball, I promise to come back and do that Internet ghost thing. That sounded like fun.
