We Interrupt These Pittsburgh Lessons for an Important Announcement
OH.
Mi.
Gawd.
My flight was five (5) hours late last night.
But that's not the worst part.
Wait for it.
Seriously.
Still there?
I ran out of knitting!!!
[Cue scary music]
I brought two knitting projects with me. I also brought about eight hours worth of work, and two magazines. I even bought a book in Pittsburgh. But, I didn't plan on being finished with fixing the computer on Day 2.
I powered through the first knitting project and the first five hours of worth of work without blinking. Then on Day 3 I couldn't sleep so I started and finished the book. And our flight to PIT was late so I finished the magazines before I got on board. But, but, I still had the booties and the 100 page contract. I was good. That's seven hours right there...easy. I didn't panic when they announced would be late. I continued to keep mom calm as they would tell us we would be delayed, two, three, and then four hours. Remember, we're going home. They need this plane in L.A. They won't cancel. Its fine.
I was smug. I took a walk around the mall at the airport...tried on a few pairs of Gap jeans and wandered through the sale at Victoria's Secret. I ate the dinner I bought before we left my grandfather's. I was fine. I knew I had enough to keep me busy and I was content in that knowledge.
After my walk I started with the contract. I fell asleep twice trying to read this thing earlier in the day so I thought I was good. Read. Sleep. Read. Sleep. Perfect! Not so much. Compared to the five hour delay, that contract was gold...interesting....I was taking notes, getting ready to discuss on Monday. And after finishing it, I even found an amended complaint I forgot that I had with me. 145 pages of fun! That'll take hours! As I came to the last pages, they announced boarding. Awesome, home free.
We boarded the plane and sat down. There was a mom with two five year old girls and a small puppy, unable to get seats together. My mom loves the window seat so she happily agreed to trade with the mom. (Mom makes me sit in the middle seat...I know, a good excuse for elder abuse later on.) The only thing worse to me than being in a middle seat is being in a middle seat without being able to get out of that seat easily. Sigh. Fine. Everything is fine. I walked around before the plane was fully boarded, stretched my legs and sat down as the last people wrestled with their lugged. As a reward for that middle seat, the booties.
Woo! Finishing gifts months before they're due. I rock. I'm awesome. The captain gets on the P.A. and announces that we can't finish loading or fueling the plane because of thunder and lightening. That's ok. We're on the plane...another 30 minutes and we're on our way.
30 minutes.
60 minutes.
Everything is fine.
Until the primary color of the booties started to run out.
It was horrible...like something out of a bad dream...the end of the hopalong cassidy yarn...the yarn needed for the majority of the Ugg booties...the best travel project ever...or so I thought.
As I sat there, mid-panic, watching my skein wind down, I looked over at the very cute, very chic girl in the aisle seat to my right. She had on her Seven jeans (actually hemmed to an appropriate length), silver gladiator sandals, white long-sleeve tshirt, scarf and her Marc by Marc Jacobs white leather handbag and Longtemps carry-on. She quietly read her two magazines.
I was sitting there in pink wrinkled J.Crew capris, now-dirty white sweater, old Vans with my roller bag stuffed into the overhead and my carryon crying for mercy under my seat....filled with knitting, work reading, bagels, my purse and other various items I can't remember after four hours of sleep wondering why I can't be the chic traveler. The one who looks cute and put together even after a five hour delay, not the one who looks like she hasn't washed her hair 'cause the water pressure at her grandfather's wouldn't wash a small spider down the drain let alone a full head of hair.
I always want to be that cute traveller. I want to be amused by two magazines and an ipod. But I can't. I guess its the price I have to pay for having this HUGE brain. Huge brains demand large quantities of yarn. Next time, I'm bringing a bigger carryone.
Mi.
Gawd.
My flight was five (5) hours late last night.
But that's not the worst part.
Wait for it.
Seriously.
Still there?
I ran out of knitting!!!
[Cue scary music]
I brought two knitting projects with me. I also brought about eight hours worth of work, and two magazines. I even bought a book in Pittsburgh. But, I didn't plan on being finished with fixing the computer on Day 2.
I powered through the first knitting project and the first five hours of worth of work without blinking. Then on Day 3 I couldn't sleep so I started and finished the book. And our flight to PIT was late so I finished the magazines before I got on board. But, but, I still had the booties and the 100 page contract. I was good. That's seven hours right there...easy. I didn't panic when they announced would be late. I continued to keep mom calm as they would tell us we would be delayed, two, three, and then four hours. Remember, we're going home. They need this plane in L.A. They won't cancel. Its fine.
I was smug. I took a walk around the mall at the airport...tried on a few pairs of Gap jeans and wandered through the sale at Victoria's Secret. I ate the dinner I bought before we left my grandfather's. I was fine. I knew I had enough to keep me busy and I was content in that knowledge.
After my walk I started with the contract. I fell asleep twice trying to read this thing earlier in the day so I thought I was good. Read. Sleep. Read. Sleep. Perfect! Not so much. Compared to the five hour delay, that contract was gold...interesting....I was taking notes, getting ready to discuss on Monday. And after finishing it, I even found an amended complaint I forgot that I had with me. 145 pages of fun! That'll take hours! As I came to the last pages, they announced boarding. Awesome, home free.
We boarded the plane and sat down. There was a mom with two five year old girls and a small puppy, unable to get seats together. My mom loves the window seat so she happily agreed to trade with the mom. (Mom makes me sit in the middle seat...I know, a good excuse for elder abuse later on.) The only thing worse to me than being in a middle seat is being in a middle seat without being able to get out of that seat easily. Sigh. Fine. Everything is fine. I walked around before the plane was fully boarded, stretched my legs and sat down as the last people wrestled with their lugged. As a reward for that middle seat, the booties.
Woo! Finishing gifts months before they're due. I rock. I'm awesome. The captain gets on the P.A. and announces that we can't finish loading or fueling the plane because of thunder and lightening. That's ok. We're on the plane...another 30 minutes and we're on our way.
30 minutes.
60 minutes.
Everything is fine.
Until the primary color of the booties started to run out.
It was horrible...like something out of a bad dream...the end of the hopalong cassidy yarn...the yarn needed for the majority of the Ugg booties...the best travel project ever...or so I thought.
As I sat there, mid-panic, watching my skein wind down, I looked over at the very cute, very chic girl in the aisle seat to my right. She had on her Seven jeans (actually hemmed to an appropriate length), silver gladiator sandals, white long-sleeve tshirt, scarf and her Marc by Marc Jacobs white leather handbag and Longtemps carry-on. She quietly read her two magazines.
I was sitting there in pink wrinkled J.Crew capris, now-dirty white sweater, old Vans with my roller bag stuffed into the overhead and my carryon crying for mercy under my seat....filled with knitting, work reading, bagels, my purse and other various items I can't remember after four hours of sleep wondering why I can't be the chic traveler. The one who looks cute and put together even after a five hour delay, not the one who looks like she hasn't washed her hair 'cause the water pressure at her grandfather's wouldn't wash a small spider down the drain let alone a full head of hair.
I always want to be that cute traveller. I want to be amused by two magazines and an ipod. But I can't. I guess its the price I have to pay for having this HUGE brain. Huge brains demand large quantities of yarn. Next time, I'm bringing a bigger carryone.
posted by jenna! at
10:25 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home