This one gets blamed on Liz

So while she was gone, I had a lovely lull in the construction... but the day after she returns? Jackhammers in the street.

Today, the racket started at 8:27. How she's still in bed 5 minutes later, I have no idea.

I haven't figured out how she sleeps through her alarms either.

So I'm gonna blame it on Mel... again.

I've discovered yet another time eating web site. And since it's related to I can has cheezeburger, I'm going to say it's Mel's fault. It's called Graph Jam... where people submit graphs... most of them mocking pop culture. Here's my favorite so far:

http://www.graphjam.com/

London (and Detroit)

July 9, 4pm EST – Detroit

And it's a good thing too, because Mel was getting really grumpy and going on tirades about piddly little islands and their tiny toilets and miniscule showers.

I think she was set off by the sight of our hotel room in London. Our room where only one of us could stand up at a time. Mel could literally touch both walls at the narrowest part, and linked together we could span the widest part with a foot or more to spare.

The good news is that we could check in when we got there at 1pm… stayed long enough to dump our stuff and then headed off to the National Gallery. Saw all my favorites – Lady Jane Gray, Monets, Renoirs, and enough Madonnas and Children to last me a whole year or more. We walked to Leicester Square for Trusty Ol' Mr. Wu's. Cheap, mainly because it's onions in yellow sauce (with chicken), Onions in brown sauce (with beef), and sweet and sour pork drizzled with a tiny amount of sauce… but with a huge vat of it right next it.

Decided to skip the shows, considering the wake-up call was for 4:30am, and went to see Kung Fu Panda. Discovered strange Britishism. The movie was on the board as starting at 6:40. We were there early about 6:10ish. Then realized that seating didn't open until 6:30. Trailers started at 7 and the movie didn't start until 7:15. What the heck was that about? Movie was cute, and then back to hotel for shower, repack and sleep. Who am I kidding? Mel did the repack while I used the shower which literally had 8 inches of dressing space. I cringed when Mel told me she wandered through the public hallway naked so she could dress in the bathroom. Gah!

So this morning we headed down to the lobby and the desk clerk told us it would be just about the same to take a cab to the airport as it would be to get a cab to Paddington and then take the Heathrow Express. Yeah! No lugging suitcase down into the tube!

Heathrow security made Lax look like a slacker. We went through the first security terminal, and then once through the gate, we were searched again AND sniffed by a cute dog.

You could hear the sigh of relief when we landed in Detroit. Finally back in the land of paper towels and free refills. Passport control went much more swiftly than Heathrow. He asked me what I'd been doing, and I said "same as the girl before me. Went to a wedding."

"Congratulations!" he replies. Funny Man. The customs guy wasn't so funny. He looked bored out of his skull. He apparently pestered Mel, but left me alone. We dragged our luggage off to be rechecked and then had to go through security again. I saw a booth that I think is one of those see through your clothes deals. Mel and I thankfully didn't get hassled.

So we've got 10 or some minutes before boarding… if we're running on time… which the previous 3 Philly flights have not.

Post Script: We boarded about 15 minutes late, then taxied out to de-icing area where we sat for an hour waiting for the weather in Philly to clear. Yeah.

Bath Day 2 + Stonehenge

July 8, 10:23 – currently on train leaving Bath.

Yesterday morning, armed with my trusty anti-rain talisman (aka brolly) we set out for Bath Abbey – which I think is much more like a church than a tourist attraction (unlike many of the Cathedrals we've visited in the past.) The Heritage Vaults were interesting and not dumbed down as many of the museums. A school was practicing for their Founder's Day and while Mel was not amused, I felt like singing along and giggled to myself every time the director stopped to yell at them. He had a booming voice that echoed through the Abbey. I so wanted to burst out into song to hear what my voice would sound like all echoes and reverberation.

Sally Lunn was next. The "museum" is a whole two rooms in the basement, but it was worth the price of admission (free). The little old lady behind the counter took a liking to Mel and gave her the guided tour.

We had lunch upstairs in the tearooms then headed back downstairs for 2 Sally Lunn Bath Buns… yum.

Then we met Gary, our tour guide. His catchphrase "I'll tell you about that later…" He rambled on in an amusing fashion as we drove the hour to Stonehenge. It dribbled on us for about 30 seconds but then the only thing we had to worry about were the winds. They were blowing us every which way. Brrr. The clouds made for some very dramatic photos.

Gary really won my heart when we got back on the bus and he announced that we'd be in Brighton in 30 minutes. "No, we're not really going to Brighton. But I want to go to Brighton!"

Instead we headed off to the little village of Lalock where they filmed bits of Hogsmead, Harry's parent's house, and the main street of Meriton (thus the Pride and Prejudice reference to Brighton.)

Back in Bath, we stopped into the Hunter's Pub, where finding the loo was a labyrinthical experience. Up the stairs, around the corner, up the stairs past the gents, down the stairs, through the room and up the stairs again. Going back I just went down one set of stairs, around the bar, down another set of stairs and confused the heck out of Mel when I came from the opposite direction from which I'd left.

While we waited for our walking tour at 8pm, we planned our next novel and a half – a sequel to The Road To. Possible Titles: The Road Two, The Road to Two, The Road From. Mel is not particularly impressed with any of them. Maybe we should have a trio. The Road To, The Road From, and The Road Less Traveled By.

Bizarre Bath, the walking tour was just as funny as I remembered it. I think 10 years is significant enough time to forget most of the jokes. When we got back to the hostel at 10, the lights were already off, so I didn't get a chance to write all this down… but at least I had something to do on the train! Soduku Time!

Bath Day 1

July 6, 8:20 pm

We walk into our hostel room and there are two very hairy guys sleeping in the lower bunks. A little uncomfortable, but we drop off our stuff and take off for the Roman Bath Museum. It starts to rain… this ws the beginning of a pattern we had yet to comprehend. It goes like this. Rain. Enter museum. Rain stops. Exit Museum. Rain pours down so hard the store clerks' eyes pop. Enter restaurant. Sit down. Rain stops. Wait a loooong time for the bill. Rain sprinkles then turns into massive downpour the minute we actually get the bill and stand to leave. Went to Sainsbury's Local. Bought Brolly.

So anyway, while at the Roman Bath Museum there was no fire… no fine firemen to snap pictures of either. Sigh. On the way home we stopped in to California Kitchen (whose menu was definitely more British than Californian) for dessert. Mel ordered carrot cake which came drizzled in this strange looking hot pink strawberry sauce. I ordered French Onion soup. Yeah, I know… nice dessert. Went back to the hostel and read until 10:30.

Today we bought a 10 Pound bus tour and went around and then half way around again to the Fashion Museum, which used to be called the costume museum. I swear it was a heck of a lot larger when I was there ten years ago. We didn't get to see the Assembly Rooms, as there was a dance class in there. It sounded like Riverdance above us as we walked through the museum. We came out and saw that there were tons of people in period costume wandering about.

We stopped at a Thai place for lunch and then off to the Jane Austen Center which was seriously more an homage to all the Jane Austen movies than to the actual books. A bit disappointing. Much preferred the Jane Austen Museum in Chawton. We did have tea in the Regency Tea Rooms upstairs… where all the combinations were named after characters. The Bath bun we ate was quite nice.

We then went looking for a chemist but found Sainsbury's instead… then while wandering a bit more (now safely ensconced under my trusty new brolly [and trying not to hum Singing in the Rain]), we saw a sign for a movie theater. Bingo!

Female Agents was a good WWII movie, most of which was in French. As Mel put it – It's The Dirty Dozen… but with girls. A group of French resistance fighters are recruited and sent in to rescue a geologist with valuable information of the D-Day plans.

Now I think it's time for digestives… and Soduku!

The Wedding

July 5, 1 pm

Well, Clare's officially a married woman and I think Mel and I have left her in very good hands. The wedding was beautiful. My poem went over well. Clare looked absolutely stunning and Reuben looked very dapper in his Bob Scratchit (cravat). It was definitely a good thing that Clare got to test out her mascara during the Hen Night because she cried. We sat at the "cool" table in the corner with Clare's other sundry mates and had a blast before and during dinner.

Afterward, Debbie, Mel and I snuck up to our room so Mel could watch the end of Criminal Justice. Then we headed back down to dance. Now that was an interesting experience. It started off with an Indian flair and Reuben's family and mates got up to dance. Then they ran through the classics – Jackson 5, Madonna, ABBA and Clare's side got up to dance. At one point I was dancing right next to Clare's sisters. It was a bit like dancing next to the three Muses… all tall and slender.

We ducked out about 12:30 and then learned at breakfast that they'd broken the party up only about half an hour after we'd left.

We're currently on the train to Bath and I really am going to blame Mel for the fact that I just started talking about the wedding and not about how we got there.

I keep getting distracted by the conversation going on behind me - a group of blokes, one of which told the other he had three things to say to him. Number 1 – sort out the details of his holiday… soon. It's apparently very expensive to fly from Morocco to Cairo. The second thing was that he should go through with this wedding. If he did, he was a flamin' idiot. It was obvious that he wasn't really in love with the girl. The third thing… I don't think he ever got to that… just switched to complaining about a 30 Pound haircut and then footie.

Reading – The station… not the activity. Guys got off.

So getting from York to Stevenage was quite easy. We did have to leave our bags 3 coaches away from where we finally found our seats. Once we got off the real adventures began. Now Stevenage is probably only ten miles from Clare's. The train guy told us we'd have to travel to London, (switching stations via the Tube) and back out again to get there. Either that or take a train to Hertford, walk three miles across town to the other station to catch another train.

Mel and I did the smart thing. We walked across the pedestrian bridge to the bus station. After a bit of confusion (and a bit of crankiness on Mel's part) we found an electronic journey planner that could get us to Turnford College, and prayed that it was the one right outside Clare's estate. We had to wait about 45 minutes so I went into Woolworths for some comfort food – a diet coke and a Kinderegg.

Side Note: SWINDON!

The bus was ten minutes late and when it arrived our bus driver's English was a little limited. We were even later when some other driver kept yelling at him that he had the wrong bus.

Finally underway we drove off the where? Ware! Then when we asked the driver which Ware were we supposed to get off at (we thought it was the Ware we'd just passed), he said no and told us the next Ware was where we were to depart. He drove literally around the corner and a nice old British Lady (then tend to hang out a lot of bus stops) told us the Ware where we'd been before was the Ware where we needed to be. We rounded the corner where the Ware bus was waiting and hopped aboard. Turnford college turned out to be where Reuben works so we took a turn around Turnford Roundabout and turned into Clare's estate where she greeted us like a queen from her 3^rd story balcony.

Side Note: Okay, I promise to stop it now. Really.

I ended up lugging the suitcase up all the stairs myself as Clare had just gotten her manicure. Grrrr Arghhhh. Jenny Power!

 

2pm

The night before the wedding was a girly night. Reuben set off to hand with his parents (He probably had a much less splendid night than we did). Pizza, crisps, popcorn, and Maltesers were the fare. Then Mel popped in our first cheezy chick flick of the night. The Slipper and The Rose – where Richard Chamberlain suddenly started singing and dancing. It's apparently a Benton Family Classic. It was even funnier when they fast forwarded through the extensive dance numbers at twice speed.

We headed off to bed after following Reuben's strict instructions not to feed Clare too much alcohol. I think we kind of worried him after the hen night.

Next Stop – Bath! I am seriously in need of lunch.

York Part 3

July 2, 3pm

Mel's off to go soak her feet and look for Leo as he passes her by on his iceberg. Today has been museums and blister plasters.

Mel sneezed her way through brekkie so we stopped in at a chemist and purchased some blister protectors and off brand Claratin. We stoppd on the city walls to apply said plasters (Brit Speak for band-aid) and I continued on slightly paranoid at missing the step I tripped down last time. When I saw that it was actually in a fenced off area, I pointed it out to Mel. "Pshaw! It makes a better story if you could have rolled off!" Apparently the entire wall used to have wrought iron fencing but they took them down during World War 2 and melted them into airplanes and such. La!

We went to the York Museum and got 5 out of 10 of their initial "Put them in order chronologically" quiz. The rest of the museum (once we got away from the overly exuberant curator who Mel said later was flirting with me) had some interesting Roman, Viking, and…

5pm-ish

Took nap… so where were we? Oh yes. And the Dissolution of the monasteries. It also had the evilest looking otter I ever did see. The taxidermist, I believe, was practicing his artistic license. I left Mel in the park to claim us a bench while I tracked down some lunch – sandwhiches – my soda was nearly as expensive as my brie and cranberry (gotta love those British Combos).

We trekked through town finding both a bank and a post office, then off to the quilt museum, which we both agreed was nice, but small for the hefty 6 Pound fee.

A nice old lady told us which bus to take because, as Mel shouted at me in front of nice old lady, "My feet are bloody stumps!" So then we took a nap. We plan to go to another Indian restaurant tonight. It's around the corner. Mel is still napping, but I plan to read and enjoy a nice cuppa and a biscuit!

York Pt 2

July 10, 2008

Let's just say I'm feeling my little boom trip and the subsequent Minster Tower steps today. According to Mel, we made five stops today… shall we count them off?

1. Clifford's Tower – its claim to fame (besides being atop a Big Pile of Dirt like Canterbury's Dane John Mound) is that some Christians chased about 150 Jews inside and told them to convert or die. Guess what they chose? You guessed it, death. Wouldn't be much of a story otherwise. Mel's camera quit and so now I am the sole purveyor of pictures! Anyway, climbing up top scared Mel especially when I mentioned that the walls leaned a bit. I told her to head down first to get a pic, and as I came down, I heard her talking to a group of school kids. When they found out she was American she was pronounced a "Superstar!"
   "Wow. I wouldn't want to come here on my holiday!" "Well I wouldn't want to go to Hollywood on my holiday," I replied. Their eyes lit up. "Oh I would." Then the next obvious question about movie stars. "Well, my sister has a picture of her with Brad Pitt."
   

   Yeah, we were Uber Superstars.
   

2. York Castle Museum – which is not a museum about a castle or York, as the name might suggest. It is in fact sort of a period museum with different rooms made up for different decades or themes… for example the 60's or wedding gowns. The worst thing about the museum were the hoards of school children being ferried about. It was as if all the schools were having their end of term field trips… all at once.
   
3. Mr. Sandwich – for a Pound, you could have one of 48 different sandwiches. It was recommended by our innkeeper and I plan to thank her tomorrow. Mel had Coronation Chicken and I chose cucumber, cheese and walnut. We both agreed that Americans have missed the mark on sandwich making. We sat down on the steps outside the public toilets and ate our lunch.
   
4. Then it was shopping time! Went into the Edinburg Wool Shop and found a 15 Pound Cardigan on sale. Go me. Then we went off to Evans, a plus size shop and the only thing Mel liked was a 50 Pound dress. Nope.
   
5. Vikings! Again beset by kids. One particularly grumpy Viking muttered something about chopping them up and putting them in a stew, followed by a side comment that they'd already had 12 school groups come through already. Mel and I lost each other for a few minutes but then found each other again. I'd been waiting in the gift shop, and she'd been waiting outside.
   
6. Ice cream – Okay, I had lemon sherbet while we pondered over our next stop. Tried to go to an art museum but it was closed. So what does one do when one wants to waste time? Liz can answer that question – bookshop! Waterstones is sort of the B&N of England. Bought 2 books. We also stopped at a stationary shop to buy Mel a new fountain pen or three, because apparently they are the one item that's actually cheaper and easier to find in England. I also got a 4 color pen and some mini mechanical pencils.
   
7. The Roman Baths – Only in England would you find a museum below a pub… or is that a pub over a museum? Anyway, we were lured into the pub by 6 Pound 50 early dinner special and Mel's desire for Yorkshire Pudding. A bit on the heavy side but yummy. A good deal.
   
8. Last note: This is Mel's fancy new fountain pen. We are back home and I'm not sure I like it. I definitely like my 4 color one better. Anyway, that's all she wrote for today!
   

York, Part 1

June 30, 9am

FYI, Pancake = Crepe. Must wait to see what Scotch Pancakes are until tomorrow. Brekkie was yummy and we're now shortly off to York Minster. Mel has gone off to the loo. So yesterday we obviously slept in and Reuben drove us to Stevenage Station. Avoiding London = cheaper AND less traffic. We arrived in York 5 minutes after the tourist bureau closed. Yeah! And with a bit of orientation, found our B&B with little problem.

Had dinner in a pub – nice jacket potatoes – then stared at the "monks" having a beer in the garden. Found out later as we crossed paths again that what we say was the "vicar" portion of a "tarts and vicars" party.

We wasted some time, had a drink at a different pub and then when on The Original Ghost Tour of York. Mel and I disagree about the Roman Ghost Story. Ask later for more details. Mel out of loo and roaring to go.

June 30, 7pm

Made it back to the B&B. Still in one piece, but hurting. Today was a battle of wills. It wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't turned into Jenny the Uber Klutz.

Forgot to mention Hoover, who looks exactly like Norman did when he was a kitten, except for the caramel colored eyes. I was getting him into trouble this morning during breakfast. I wanted to play with the kitten!!!

Anyway, we took off after breakfast and climbed up top the city walls. After some awesome pictures, Jenny took a tumble – there was a step down… and I didn't step down. Went down. Flat. Landed mostly on my right knee then flat on my stomach. It could have been worse says Mel and later the newsagent. There's no railing… you could have toppled off the side.

I got up with Mel's help and walked it off on the way to the Minster.

That's when it got interesting as I had promised myself that I would climb the tower - 275 narrow spiraling steps to the top. Mel elected not to climb it, but I did. Grr! Argh! I made it to the top in ten minutes flat. Near the top I slowed a bit and the guy behind me told me to take my time. I got the feeling that his wife was coming up right behind him and he wanted to use me as an excuse to take a breather himself.

Going down was interesting enough when my knee hurt and my legs felt like jelly. At the bottom I showed Mel the picture I asked some Germans to take, and she was seriously happy she missed it. The guide on our tour had said something along the lines as this for a warning: "I always used to say that everyone who made it up, always made it back down again… but earlier this month a man had a heart attack at the top and they had to use a helicopter to get him down. They've been a bit more cautious about warning people lately."

Once outside the Minster, I was really sad when I saw a poster for Brahms' Requiem in the Minster – for yesterday. That would have been cool!

After the full Minster experience, I wanted tea. Of course, when you're looking for it, you can't find it, but on the way home we saw dozens! We did manage to stop and had tea, biscuits and a tea cake at the tea room above the Teddy Bear Shop. Mel's teacake was huge, but my biscuits, although T shaped, were tiny… so we (Read I) traded one of my biscuits for half of her teacake.

Our next stop was the Treasurer's House. Some really rich guy had no wife or children and decided to spend all his money before he died. The main way he did this was to decorate and furnish a house he planned to give to the National Trust when he died. He was so anal about his plans that he placed studs in the floor to mark the exact furniture locations and left little sign detailing day to day operations.

The most interesting part of the house was The Haunted Cellar. We scoffed at the hardhats until even I, Jenny the Short One, bumped my head twice. The guide was amusing and the story was familiar – a guy putting in a boiler hole sees a tattered Roman Legion stroll by, knees disappearing beneath the floor. .. only for them to discover (20 years later) that the Roman Road lay under the cellar floor… just at knee height. This is the story that I say was also retold in the Canterbury Roman Museum.

Mel and I (okay, mainly me) decided that we should then have ice cream and then dinner in that order. My reasoning was that the ice cream shops I'd seen were all in our part of town.

We had Indian for dinner, Akbars, and learned the hard way that Family Garlic Naan served four. Not only that, but it was the size of an extra large pizza crust served vertically impaled on a rack by three waiters who seemed highly entertained by the look on the Americans' faces when they brought it to the table. We were defeated by the Naan.

We were back to the B&B by 7, and after discovering that there's nothing on the telly, but East Enders, Wimbledon, and news programs about knife crime, Mel promptly turned it off and is now snoring away with a pillow on top of her face. Photo Opportunity! :)

West End Salsa

June 29

La! We survived our First Official London West End Hen Night. We went to Bar Salsa and there were at least seven other brides there though I felt lucky that Tara didn't arrange bunny ears, pink Stetsons, bobble headbands or pink afro wigs for us to wear like many of the other parties. Clare got a tasteful sash and a blinking plastic tiara.

We started off the night when Amanda, Reuben's sister, arrived at the flat and poured us some Cosmos that needed some serious dilution not to taste like pure grain alcohol. This was followed by champagne… which was a bit dry so Clare went round and added Peach Schnapps to everyone's glass.

We were soon joined by Clare's cousin, Jane, and Clare's best mate Tara, and then off we went, driven by Rueben and Tara's husband, Pete. There were a lot of cracks about Pete's reliance on his Satnav, which I what they call their GPS units over here.

Anyway, I started to feel a bit woozy and was not helped any by the swirling and turning of our dance lesson. I was paired with Amanda and thankfully neither one of us stepped on the other's feet.

So after our lesson (And back and forward, and back and forward, to the bar, to the stage, turn, turn, turn!), we sat at a table and ate dinner. An appetizer plate was followed by the blandest fajitas I've ever had. Definitely British.

After dinner we finally got up the courage to go out onto the dance floor. Holy Cow. Any other time I've gone dancing with friends, the girls form a circle and just jam. Every single one of us had a partner within 30 seconds. This Asian guy grabbed me… Jon, Bon, Juan, something along those lines and began dancing me about, twisting, and twirling me so much that people began to leave us extra space on the dance floor. It was fun for the first dance. The second, I was trying to figure out how to get out of it. I finally got rid of him and was snagged by another guy who I couldn't decide if he was trying to feel me up or pickpocket me.

The men were like vultures, picking up the women and hovering about above the floor scouting their targets. Even after a few of the tables were cleared and our group of ten danced in our own circle away from the main dance floor, the men still came aggressively after us… especially after Tara, Jane, and Clare.

Clare, meanwhile, was appropriately being fed more alcohol and by the time her sisters and her brother's girlfriend turned up, was totally wasted. Mel and I tried to tell them she needed no more alcohol, but Clare has an uncanny ability to drink anything she's given through a straw – handy for water… not so good for margaritas.

Near the end of the night, I accompanied Tara to the loo as there was less of a chance of being nabbed in pairs. I grabbed the first stall and when I came out, noticed why there were two bouncers in the bathroom. A woman had cut her foot on some glass and there were pools of blood on the floor. She didn't look too distressed, but I would have recommended Casualty for anyone bleeding that much.

Clare got a bit weepy in the end, but that's to be expected. We got picked up by Reuben and Pete and finally got home near 3. At one time there was talk about Krispy Cremes or a fry up and all I could think of was Jamie Oliver and his recipes for fry ups.

More about today… tomorrow. 10:40pm in York and Mel and I decided not to stay up 'til 3am drinking tonight. We must be getting old.

Jetlaggggg

June 28, 7am

Got on our flight which was delayed because it was early… a strong tail wind would have put us into London before curfew ended and that would mean a hefty fine for the airline. Clare said teletext had us landing seriously early, so she rushed to sit and wait around for half an hour.

Passport control took FOREVER, The queue stretched down the hall and back again. Mel noticed the signs. "British Passports and EU passports" and "The Rest of The World (This includes United States Citizens)" I can just imagine how many stupid American tourists asked where THEIR line was before that sign was put up.

Clare picked us up. Then we went home, had nap (very necessary) and then off to the Marriott so Clare could show us around and Reuben could review arrangements with a Ferengi. Actually, it's a guy named Ian Picard so C&R started calling him Jean Luc even though he resembles Quark from DS9.

8 Hour Layovers Can Be Fun!

June 26, 6pm

There's nothing like a 4 am wake-up call to start the day. Mel looks a little grumpy, but we've got 20 minutes before our boarding time and we're sitting comfortably in some chairs near Gate 6. The past day and a half passed in a blur of City of Hero playing, manicure and pedicure getting, dinner and bow tying. My manicurist was seriously chatty and pronounced us cool. I must say she worked wonders on the disasters that were my finger nails. Mel's hardly said a word.

12pm

Had lunch… and decided the weather out part of our layover at a table brainstorming. Finally decided that the solution to The Road To was for Jack to give the Corporation a continent the size of Australia. So we took a sheet of paper and played terra forma by dripping Chai Latte on it, dabbing it off and outlining the spots. One continent ended up strangely phallic.

Flight Fun

June 25, 5pm ish.

Rugrats won. Yes, the mom let her daughter kick the back of my seat for most of the flight and I was treated to bouts of Annie, temper tantrums, threats, and Take Me Out to the Ball Game. The woman next to me kept falling asleep and leaning next to me, but the Asian gentleman in the window seat was quite amusing. At the beginning of the flight he demanded a carpet.

Flight Attendant: Excuse me sir?

Asian Gentleman: Carpet! Carpet!

I knew exactly what he wanted, but resisted the teacher urge to correct his vocabulary. Blanket! He wants a blanket! Later, another mishap during the beverage service.

Flight Attendant: And for you, sir?

Asian Gentleman: Beer!

Flight Attendant: I'm sorry?

Asian Gentleman: Beer!

Flight Attendant: Bud, Bud Light, or Heinekin?

Asian Gentleman: No. Beer!

Flight Attendant: Budweiser, Budweiser Light, or Heinekin?

Asian Gentleman: Beer!

Flight Attendant: (SIGH) What kind of beer, sir?

Asian Gentleman: Oh. Yes. Hi Kin.

Flight Attendant: (Relief. Passes over beer… drips on me.) Five dollars.

Asian Gentleman: No. Free.

Flight Attendant: No, five dollars.

Asian Gentleman: Free!

Flight Attendant: No, alcohol is five dollars.

Asian Gentleman: Oh. Cola.

I must say that the flight attendant never lost his patience.

And We’re Off!

June 24, 2008

So I got piped through the security maze and as far as I know, am still in possession of my belongings… that's if my luggage makes it onto the plane.

Called Mel. She's excited… she better be. Seriously.

Got the airplane stomach and the Starbucks Coffee. Also brought banana, string cheese (2), and an apple. The lady next to me is describing her "big city airport" experiences too someone on the phone. She's got the best natural Jewish Mom accent I've ever heard. I hope that's not offensive, but I kept expecting her to say, "Oi Vey!" after she complained that the Skycabs cost two dollars.

Who the hell travels in black Capris, a blue t-shirt and black patent leather stiletto heels? Seriously… not the Jewish mom. She's wearing the more traditional dark blue matching cotton outfit… like something Mom would wear… but in orange. Can't see her shoes, but she does have a really ugly floral Mom Purse. Really, Stacy and Clinton have made me a lot more intolerant for men who wear blue toed white socks with sandles, or new age hippies in tie dye platforms and an out fit that, without the pin strips, would fit right in on the set of Ghandi… made complete with the Starbuck's bag and coffee. The more I look around, the more horrified I become.

Wow, that airline worker kinda looked like Alton Brown.

Mmm… coffee buzz kicking in. Wow. Jewish Mom has a boatload of prescription drugs bundled away in that Mom Purse.

8:00 am

After waiting a bit for the flight attendant to figure out seating arrangements for Mom and 3 young kids plus another party, looks like I'm in a middle seat a row in front of 6 kids under the age of ten… and a few rows in front of a gaggle of teenage girls who appear to be traveling alone. Anyway, we'll see which proves more annoying. I must say that minus 80 some odd pounds make the airline seat a hell of a lot more comfortable. Boy behind having tantrum. Score one for the rug rats.

There's always that moment before taking off when my stomach goes wild with the pressure of impending doom. Now the attendants are having problems with the auto safety display. Peachy.