The Finite

…in O’Hare of allergic rhinitis. Damn you 10mg loratadine, you are but a feeble peon in this harrowing struggle!

So, I’m either owning clothes way heavier than they used to be, I’m getting stronger or someone has altered Earth’s magnetic field, because it is now way easier to overpack suitcases. On the plus side, I can apparently deadlift 56 lbs, shortly before dropping it and falling down the steps of my apartment. Now to convince them to make that an Olympic event.

So then after all that hullabaloo, yadda yadda yadda, I’m in a metal tube traversing space… and time. But at the same rate as usual. And if you have any questions about what a Ugandan man’s elbow is like, shoot me an email, because after 8 hours, I can describe it on a disturbingly intimate level.

747-400s are nice though. Individual seatback LCDs and a remote/controller thingie. Well, I had an exit row since I’m special so I had an articulate metal arm holding my screen. They had movies -recent ones: Les Miz, Skyfall, Wreck-it Ralph- and select TV shows.

And a flight tracker.

And a preview of menu items.

And games you could play if you turned your remote sideways.

And an program for learning foreign languages.

And the headphones were free.

Yeah, KLM is pretty nice. The food was “eh.” Pasta was nothing to write home about. (Why I even wrote that sentence kind of confounds me.) But holy hell the cherry tomato, the cherry tomato, the freakin’ tomato. It was ripe. It tasted good. That’s all.

Also, highballs in the sky, suckas!

About that, I tried a coffee and cognac (the original Four Loko) and have concluded that I’m a lightweight because I never could have made it to lunch if that was part of a balanced breakfast. Luckily I was restrained in a seat for 8 hours so I made it to the end of The Hobbit without doing anything too unbecoming. (By the way, did anybody else find that the climax to that film took kind of a Wes Anderson-y turn?)

Some seat it was. Even though I was in the exit row, I was right next to the wall yet I had no window and I had the hatch impinging on my legroom as well as putting up with all the people congregating outside the lavatories. (I’ve decide the new rule is that all lavatory floors are made of lava.) I heard the same flight attendant tell people not to stand in front of the emergency exit for a good five hours. Which… why? Lady, we are 35000 ft up. If there was some need to use the emergency exit, don’t you think we’d have some advance notice? Because there’s such a thing as exiting a plane too soon, don’t you think?

Anyway, now I’m waiting at the airport for the next flight. There are a buttload of pictures of tulips here.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 4th, 2013 at 1:31 am and is filed under Day-to-Day. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.