Saturday, April 19, 2014

Saturday Thoughts Vol. 3

We finally got internet, so I was going to write a Saturday Thoughts that would update everyone on how Portland has been so far, but I am way too lazy. So here's something I wrote on the plane when I was coming out here. Enjoy. Also, sorry the format is so fucked, but I just copied it from Word and I am way too lazy to fix it. 

True Life: I’m not a fan of flying.  I’m on a plane right now, and to take my mind off of being 30,000 ft in the air I’m going to watch Iron Man and tell you about some of the weirder flights I’ve been on.

 Switzerland    When I was 10, my dad was living in Zurich and I went to go visit him. The day before I left, I got the worst stomach flu I have ever gotten in my life. Nobody could get ahold of my dad, so at 10 years old I flew overseas by myself puking every 30 minutes or so. The plus side was that nobody wants to sit next to the girl who’s puking her brains out, so I got the entire middle row to myself.

I did a foreign exchange program in Belgium my junior year of high school, and I got in a car accident a couple of days before I left. My face got fucked up by the airbag, which made flying super uncomfortable. I had to get special permission to bring the topical medicine on board, because it was a big tube, but I had to put the medicine on my face every hour. It was so dumb, and I met my host family looking like I had just gotten my ass kicked.

The summer before my senior year of college (OH SWEET JESUS THERE IS TURBULANCE WE ARE GOING TO DIE) I went to Europe to visit my friend who had spent the semester studying in Italy. I sat down ready to sweat through 14 hours of airtime, when the guy one seat away from me looks over and says “just to let you know, I fucking hate flying”. I just kind of sat there and was like “uhhh……well that’s a bummer”. He looks me dead in the eye and goes “I’ve already been drinking, and I’m going to drink the entire flight. Are you old enough to drink?” I had been 21 for exactly 4 days before this, so we proceeded to get hammered. I have never had so many rum and cokes in my life. This made trying to navigate through the Frankfurt airport to get through customs and catch my connecting flight to Milan super exciting.

 Coming home from Italy   The return trip from Italy was a goddamn mess. My flight from Milan to Frankfurt was scheduled to leave at 7:30 am, which meant I had to be at the airport at around 5:30 am. I didn’t know that the bus stopped going to the airport at 11:00 pm, and didn’t start again until 7:00 am. This meant that I had to spend the night at the Milan airport by myself. I didn’t want to sleep because I didn’t want my belongings stolen, so I drank my body weight in caffeinated beverages and pretty much just sat there twitching until I could board my plane and pass out. After I got to Frankfurt (sober, this time) I boarded a plane for one of the Carolinas, but I forget which. I sat next to a guy who looked like Jesus, and we drank a lot of wine and watched movies together. It was pretty magical. I arrived to whichever Carolina we were going to not very sober. Then the real fun began. The flight to Phoenix ended up getting delayed for almost 5 hours. This was because (no joke) they left the plane on the tarmac for too long and it was too hot, so they had to let it cool down. Then, in the process of cooling down the plane, they found some sort of mechanical problems. At this point, I had slept for about 2 hours in the last 30, so I was not a very happy camper. I kept going to the Starbucks, and I’m 99% sure the barista thought I was on drugs. By the time we finally got on the plane, I had basically become convinced that I was going to have to live at the airport like Tom Hanks did in that one movie nobody actually saw.

 Hawaii  Flying back to Hawaii after my knee surgery was ridiculous. My little sister was flying out to visit our dad the same day, and because I couldn’t function by myself, I had to go with her and was at the airport over 5 hours early. I just posted up in the airport café watching Netflix with my leg propped up on my suitcase. I had hoarded my last two prescription painkillers, and I popped them as soon as I got on the flight. This young couple was sitting next to me, and I feel so bad for them because I was a mess. I watched the first 30 minutes of The Big Lebowski laughing my ass off, then passed out on the guy next to me. When I woke up I decided that I needed to ice my knee, and I spilled the ice cubes all over myself. To top it off, every time they asked me what things they should do, I couldn’t quite remember the names for anything, so I just made shit up.   

Well this was fun. I’m going to watch Iron Man now.

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