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I’m waiting at the gate before my flight east, to both visit my parents and experience (albeit briefly) my first Professional Conference of my Professional Association. I’ve been complaining about airline travel recently (I did, after all, have quite a trip back to England the last time), but honestly, this iteration has been positively lovely. I’m on the last flight of the evening, at least from this terminal, so everything has been quiet and easy. I’ve had the pleasure of dealing with nothing but friendly folks: the woman at security chatted to me about how it was finally calm, but for the staff earlier that day, it was “everything but snakes on a plane;” the man at the security checkpoint apologized to me for making me take off my shoes, and another insisted on hoisting my suitcase onto the X-Ray conveyor belt for me; my waitress at the bar chatted to me about vegetarianism, and the bartender made sure I wasn’t in need of more beer. The people and people-watching have been most enjoyable.
I once wrote about my desire to do a study of an airport; that post is lost on servers past, but the sentiment is still there. I’m not sure what, exactly, would the academic, intellectual point would be, but these places are fascinating. At any rate, I got one vote of validation for my project today whilst chatting on the phone over my beer (y, Kyle, I said whilst). For now, though, I’m just hoping everything continues to go smoothly.
(1) Of mice: My home internet up and died a while ago. I have a working hypothesis about why, based on the last time this happened: mice. Apparently the “box” where all of the wires related to my home phone and DSL service is a popular spot for gangs of mice to do a little breaking, entering, and nesting. This is the fourth time, by the way, since I’ve lived in this house that my voice and/or data service has mysteriously stopped working. All of my best laid plans about working and posting, dashed by mice.
(2) Of movies: This weekend featured a double-header of romantic comedies, except neither was quite what I expected. First up was Ira & Abby, which I did not choose but will be blamed for choosing regardless. The NYT review describes it as a “breezy riff on monogamy, trust and how to make love last,” except that wasn’t what I got from it. It sort of reminded me of a more benign version of Closer, which somehow made it worse, because instead of saying, “Wow, these people are kind of screwed up,” Ira & Abby is more “wow, everyone is screwed up, and there is no hope for monogamy ever, even couples who love each other very much and have been married for 30 years will cheat on each other, thus marriage is an outdated institution and why bother?” I’m perfectly willing to discuss marriage as an outdated institution, but somehow this movie still left me with an uncomfortable pit in my stomach. The second movie was Lars and the Real Girl, which I liked much more (though it was slow in parts). Strange how a movie about a man in love with a sex doll he ordered from the internet was the sweeter of the two; it’s the one I’d recommend.
I’ve written before about embracing my jetlag, and this return to United States soil is no different. I have software training that starts at 9am today and tomorrow, and I must admit that I feel much more awake right now than I normally do before 9am (at least in recent months).
In fact, I was awake so early that I was able to shower, eat a leisurely breakfast, stumble around my house attempting (and failing) to locate my American mobile phone charger, go back upstairs to put earrings on, send an email, drive to campus without getting annoyed at the long line of slow drivers, find a parking space, and settle with an iced latte at Starbucks for some prime people-watching. It has been truly fantastic; when I arrived, for example, there was a man in a pink pinstriped suit. The baristas here are fascinating in their ability to be perky without being irritating; they manage to be perky whilst simultaneously seeming understanding of and sympathetic to customers’ obvious tiredness, managing to come off as energetic and soothing all at the same time. And all sorts of people come in: young people, old people, skinny people, fat people, men, women, black, white, Asian, in pairs or alone, people in fashionable dresses and people in shorts hiked up to their armpits, people that appear to be the picture of physical health and people with arms in slings or visible limps. It makes me so ridiculously happy.
I also have to say that this jetlag experience is far superior to my jet experience. The seven-and-change hours it took to get from London to Philadelphia weren’t that bad, really, though I continue to be fascinated with certain things–like how there is less room on an enormous jet than other planes, less room for my carry-on luggage under the seat in front of me and less room for my knees.
The other thing I found truly irritating was the food situation. On all other airlines I’ve ever flown, ordering a vegetarian meal means that you get a vegetarian meal, usually earmarked for you and brought to your seat. On US Airways, it apparently means you might get a meal, if they remembered to put one on board. I was one of the lucky ones, but I suspect that vegetarians further back in the cabin may not have been so lucky.
But here’s the real thing: the vegetarian meals handed out seem to come with certain assumptions about the sorts of people who are vegetarians. To wit: at “lunch” time, passengers were served sandwiches. Everyone else got some sort of sub with meat in it; it was about 8 inches long and looked hearty. I was given a bag of apple slices and a sandwich that was, and I’m not exaggerating here, a bread roll that was about 2 inches by 2 inches square, with two pieces of tomato and two pieces of cucumber wedged in the middle. It was fine and all, but, I mean, I ordered a vegetarian meal, not a child’s vegan sandwich. I know that US portion sizes are out of control, and etc., but why do airlines assume that vegetarians want tiny portions of only completely healthy food? Why does everyone else get a little chocolate bar as a dessert, and I get grapes?
Perhaps, had I been better fed, I would have been better about the second leg of my journey–from Philadelphia to Indianapolis–which was supposed to take two hours but also miraculously took about seven. Bad weather in Indianapolis, you see; so that there was a lot of circling in a “holding pattern,” some landing in Louisville to re-fuel, and also one failed attempt to land in Indianapolis that involved bumpily descending into some ominous clouds adorned with lightning before giving up (in my head, I envisioned the situation in the cockpit like a dramatic movie scene: “PULL UP! PULL UP!”).
So, despite the fact that I miss England horribly, it was still a great relief to step off the plane in Indianapolis, stop to pick up food on the drive home, and then pass out in my own bed still partially clothed and with a cat sleeping on top of my head. Welcome back, self!
I’m back in Oxford after a week with only sporadic, dialup internet access, which means that my life was much like this video of how 24 would have been in 1994. Aside from the 13.4 hours per day it took me to check my email, I spent time traversing The North: from York to Scarborough to just outside Middlesbrough to Skelton to Woodhall Spa, to Newark and Lincoln.
Despite all of the traversing, and more working on vacation than under my normal contract, I also had room for relaxing. I was sitting at the kitchen table on Friday, working while my Nana was preparing the midday meal. At 11.56am, she asked me if I fancied a drink, and I said yes; I then watched her pour me a glass of wine. Ah, what a touching family moment, the grandmother and granddaughter drinking together before noon. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, that’s what I say.
And by the way, does anyone else find it poetic that I was working on something about “Robin Hood” rhetoric in educational equality movements in the geographical shadow of Sherwood Forest?
I have plenty of things to post — I’ve been writing and photographing the whole time — but for now, I have some movie-watching and knutschen to do. 
