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Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Mostly unscathed

Phew. Red-eyes aren't super awesome. But they aren't super bad either. They're just something I'm glad I'm not doing on my return flight next week.

My red-eye was booked solid. And my seat mate was pretty solid too. So was her gigantic 6-month-old son. He was angelic on the flight but that doesn't mean I loved having his feet in my lap, along with his mom's right arm.

The flight probably would have been so much better if I hadn't taken my Nyquil on an EMPTY STOMACH. What the freak was I thinking? I woke up a few times during the flight feeling alright. I repositioned and fell asleep again. All the while breathing easy through my decongested head. It wasn't until landing in JFK that I thought I might die.

I'm so glad that when planes taxi on the runway the air gets turned off. Really. That made puking into a tiny paper bag much more enjoyable. Better yet was the fact that my seat mate had no desire to get up and let me off the plane. She was too big to navigate the baby, the bags and the aisles to let me out. So I sat there holding my barf bag until every single solitary person was off the plane except for Big Mama and her son. I wanted it all to end then and there. I don't know if there's anything worse than being in a metal tube with no fresh air while holding a bag of your own vomit after sleeping only 3 hours with half a baby in your lap.

Thankfully, the trip wasn't over yet. It still had time to redeem itself. Sleeping on the floor of JFK for 2.5 hours was a highlight. So was sitting next to Chatty Cathy on the 1-hour flight from JFK to Portland. She congratulated me on my engagement and I didn't have the heart to tell her that my engagement ring also serves as my wedding ring. Thankfully she didn't ask any questions about the upcoming wedding.

Getting off the plane in Portland was such a relief. And so was going to Costa Vida with my mom to pick up some real food for lunch. And so was talking my sister into coming home for lunch so she could eat with me, our mom and our step dad before finishing out the work day.

I'm home alone now down the street from dozens of outlet shops. Guess what I'm going to do...

Cuddle with my mom's dogs and allow myself to miss my little Maddie and Kevy for a little bit.


  1. I, too, have been stuck in an airplane seat, vomiting into a tiny paper bag. Luckily, my mom was with me and I just put my head down by her knees while she patted my back and told the stuardess to get a garbage bag, post haste.

    I'm sorry you were alone with Big Mama. I would have tried to pop her with a ball point pen. And maybe her little kid, too.

  2. My husband is what you would call a Big Papa. That's why I always book us in a row with only two seats (we never fly popular enough routes to get super-jets) and he never, ever reclines his seat.

    It's a good thing we don't have a huge baby. ;)

  3. I think I'd make a bad alcoholic. The tiny bit in Nyquil makes my stomach burn so bad I feel like I need to eat an entire loaf of bread to soak it up.

    Sorry you puked. There is nothing more degrading in all the world than having stomach intestines exit upwards.


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