Since I went to Texas for Christmas, I flew. Since I haven't yet learned to do it on my own, I had to get on a plane.
I discovered that the Erie airport is tiny, much smaller than even the Roanoke airport (and I never thought I'd be able to make that comparison with anything). I got checked in at an automated kiosk, which was handy as no one was at the NWA ticket counter when I got there. (I mean NWA the airline, not the rap group.) Unfortunately, nobody was at the counter when I finished checking in and needed to check my bag. I stood around for perhaps four or five more minutes before someone came out of the back and checked my bag. (Perhaps he was constipated.)
We all know going through security is a royal pain, and we all know it's because we're all ruled by ninnies. Let's see, shoes off, and I'm not trying to smuggle any liquids on, am I? I actually packed a bag of filled Hershey kisses in my luggage so that no one would have a fit because there was something semi-liquid inside them. I'm convinced most of these plots have just been to see what stupid things we can all be made to do. Now there's work on an x-ray machine to examine everyone who goes through the airport. We'll all be zapped with radiation every time we get on a plane. Some people have actually complained about this--because they don't want anyone to see their naughty bits on the screen. Screw that; I'll walk through naked before I'll let them irradiate me to satisfy their curiosity. I'm kind of tempted to do it now; I almost took a jar of bouillon cubes in my carry on as a protest anyway. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, you must not watch Stephen Colbert.)
Next time I'll be prepared. I'll just tell the guard that the person in front of me looks suspiciously foreign, and while they all tackle him, I'll wheel through my 12 cases of bottled water. I figure I'll sell the water at $4 a pop on the plane, which should work out great, since I think that's half what the airline wants for the same thing.
Anyway, stuff into the plane, and off to Detroit. While I'm racing from one end of the airport to the other in 20 minutes between flights, I notice there's an automated announcement telling us we're in the central time zone, and to check clocks in the airport for the local time. (The automated announcement can't include the local time?) Then a voice starts up saying something in Japanese, which I assume is the same thing, because at one point it pauses to say "Central Time Zone".
Finally on to Texas, and I get to eat. (No food served on the planes, and remember I only had 20 minutes between planes in Detroit. I got in at 6:15 and my last meal was breakfast at 8:00.) Then home, where I got meet my parents' cat, Sweetie, also known colloquially as "Mr. Kitty." He's is a sweetie, and my parents rescued him some months back. He is now also possibly one of the most spoiled cats I've ever seen. My father attributes this to the fact that both my parents have the "grandparent hormones" raging, and no grandchildren, so they've settled for a grandcat. They each try to entice the cat to sleep with them at night, and every time my mother goes into the kitchen he runs in and hops up on his chair in case she wants to feed him treats. I don't know where he gets the idea that he always gets treats when she goes into the kitchen; I think there have been a few times when he didn't get treats. (She also holds his bowl for him when she feeds him breakfast and dinner, because he gets scared otherwise. He's somewhat timid, from having previously had a rough life.) He's a very affectionate little thing, and actually looks a good bit like my partner's cat. We got along fine once he figured out I would pet him.
Flight back was mostly uneventful, with the Erie airport again the bottleneck in the whole thing. We arrived about fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, but then waited almost half an hour for the luggage to appear. After fifteen minutes, someone came on the speakers to announce there would be a delay. (Would be a delay?) The woman next to me wondered why they could sort 50,000 passengers a day in San Diego, and not handle the luggage here; she thought perhaps there was a cow on the runway they forgot to move.
But I'm back home, and home is still here, which is always a relief. I suppose I have to think about doing work again.
Happy New Year to all!