A long flight update

(This was written 2/11, 9:00. I'm posting it 2/12, 2:00, now that I have internet.)

While writing this, I'm in the Brisbane airport (but internet here is $5 an hour, so it'll be posted from somewhere else... and here I'm hoping that I mean in a nice, safe Townsville hotel/hostel that I was shuttled to by a kind and understanding welcoming committee, but I'm not really holding my breath on that.)

I woke up at 8:30 2/9, Ohio time, to find that both my domestic US flights had been cancelled because about a foot of snow had fallen in the night... also O'Hare is completely incapable of going for a week without cancelling flights, on principle. So we made some panicked calls and got a flight to Phoenix, AZ.

That was all well and good. There were babies on the flight! Three of them! They were adorable!

I'm a little put-off, because I was looking forward to seeing the desert/mountains/geography besides rolling hillside, but no, the entire flight managed to take place in the dark. Phoenix does look pretty cool from above at night though, as does LA.

(I realize, before I type this, that I sound like the biggest bumpkin of all time, but LA is HUGE. It's definitely the largest city I've ever seen, but I mean it's ENORMOUS. It's just absolutely sprawling. You can't see the end of it out one airplane window, even if you crane your neck around.)

(Also, quote from the flight to LAX, "This flight is to LA, not Orange County. No princesses." ~Stewardess to passenger refusing to turn off her phone.)

LAX was not particularly kind to me. I had to change terminals, which meant a lot of running around looking for the right place. Then I had to go through security again, and the kid doing the X-ray thought my CD case was a bomb, so they had take it out and dust it for explosive powder.

If Beth was there at the same time I was, I missed her. I suspect her plane had already boarded before I got through security, and I also suspect that it was in yet another terminal, so it wouldn't have been worth the effort probably, but at 1:00 Cee-time (11:00 LA time), this was horrible, the killing blow to a horrible misadventure in international travel.

The airport shops were closing down, too, so I barely grabbed a meal at BK and settled down at my gate... at which point of COURSE they tell us to come weigh our carry-on luggage because we're only allowed 15 lbs. My backpack (which contained my very valuable laptop and my very important bomb-like CD collection) didn't make the cut, so I checked the other bag, thereby depriving myself of clean clothes if my luggage got lost.

(That was all right, though, really. As of writing this, my luggage is all accounted for and I don't forsee any problems in the Townsville transfer.)

So, overweight backpack on hand, I board the 14-hour flight to Brisbane. Please keep in mind that this was roughly 2:00 Cee-time and I hadn't slept since that morning. I was in the aisle seat of the four-seat middle section. The seat next to me was occupied by a middle-aged man who seemed disinclined to talk to me, which was fine. Then his wife sits down next to him and starts haranguing him shrilly.

Here's what happened: They called people to line up to board. She told him to line up, and he got in line, thinking she was right behind him. She thought he had gone to the bathroom. She got on the plane late to find him there.

So she sits down, snapping, "How could you do something like that?" as though she had caught him having a quicky with the stewardess and it was their anniversary. He tells her his side of the story and goes back to reading, and she grabs his magazine out of his hand and starts demanding an explanation. See, in my book, "Sorry, I thought you were behind me." is an explanation and an apology. They carried on like a sitcom couple for about ten minutes while everyone else boarded, him trying to ignore her, her trying to make this into a major issue with their relationship. She eventually got some wine with the beverage service and calmed down a little, but I was just waiting to see if she would nag the entire 14 hours. I bet she could have. They proceeded to ignore each other and me for the rest of the flight.

After the plane took off (3:00, Cee-time), I plugged in my "Brad's Mixed CD to Be Sad To" and fell asleep... only to be awoken roughly an hour later for dinner. All I really wanted was to get some sleep, instead of fiddling with utensils and hot plates in a tiny space with no elbow room and a henpecked, antisocial gentleman next to me bumping me with his elbows and not apologizing.
Also, I am pleased to announce that everything they say about airplane food is 100% true. I was served a slightly-functional roll and hot tin containing some vegetables and a lump of something that had started its life as a chicken. There was also a salad that seemed to feature a massacred tomato on a bed of lettuce, but I hate tomatos on the best of days and left that alone.

AUSSIE SLANG OF THE DAY: "Lemonade" means Sprite or similar beverage. Forutnately, I like both Sprite and US!Lemonade, so everything worked out.

After eating the roll and some of the deceased chicken, I went back to sleep... the rest of the flight was uneventful. I slept or zoned out for most of it, since it was dark for the majority of flight (not that I had a window seat.) Concluded the flight by reading the end of Ella Enchanted... to distract from how anxious I was about landing in a foreign country with no one around to help me out or tell me that it was ok to be a dumb cute American.

I was so nervous about the Customs form that I ended up declaring a pencil as a "wooden object"... also I ate half a bag of chocolate-covered expresso beans at once because you're not supposed to take food into the country. So no sleeping for me at the moment.

It is SWELTERING in Brisbane, so I was forced to remove Marissa's "Don't Touch Me ‘Cause I'm Poisonous Like The Rest of Australia" scarf. Sad times. Also the guy at Customs thought I was a dude. So much for pulling off the dumb, cute American.

(MoHos: I suspect that the person playing me used the XP she got for the flight to buy "androgony" for me. )

I already ran into one "Bruce" at the airport. Also, everyone here has Australian accents. I suppose I should have been prepared for that. But Australian accents are supposed to be used to quote YuGiOh: The Abrigded Series and pretend that you're hunting crocodiles, not for just talking to people.

I'm trying very hard to keep my American accent so people know why I'm so lost. Also so they don't think I'm mocking them. But it's hard. I imitate people. It's part of my desperate need to be the center of attention at all times (which, incidentally, is why my blog updates are all three pages worth of pointless anecdotes).

Well, I have about four hours to kill here. There are some overpriced shops to paw through with my sweaty, disgusting hands, and maybe I'll take some pictures, since I'm in Australia and all. They have passionfruit yougurt here... which may sound boring to you, but to culinary-nerd me, it's something of note.