omg, you guys! my plane totally didn't crash!!!!
hooray for not being dead!
and now i'm in park city, which is very fabulous, indeed.
but i will provide evidence of that later. like, tomorrow morning, or something.
for now i will tell you of the things other than crashing which did go wrong on the plane today.*
thing one, which i will transcribe exactly the way i wrote it while i was actually on the plane, approximately 3 and a half minutes before the xanax knocked me out for a solid two hours.
is there a reason why our tickets should cost the same as everyone else's when we get half of the space? the people behind us are in an exit row, and it looks mighty spacious. the guy behind me looks like he's at least 6'2, and he's got a solid six or seven inches between his knees and the seat in front of him. still, to me, that's okay because i guess these days they're charging more for those seats.
the problem is this: i'm seated in the row in front of the exit row. where apparently 'federal regulation 121.310(f) prohibits my seat from reclining due to escape hatch route clearance aft of seat.'
this is pissing me off for several reasons.
1. the people in the row in front of me are still allowed to recline their seats to their hearts content. which means that as i write this, i am sitting so upright that i am nearly inverted, and the distance between the tip of my nose and the back of the seat in front of me is approximately 2.1 inches. if i put my hand at the end of my nose, i have to make a fist to keep from pushing into the chair.
but it doesn't blow as much as the fact that the seat is so close to me that anytime i shift my weight in the slightest the woman in front of me turns around and gives me a huffy sigh. she's just rubbing it in the IN HER SEAT IT'S ACTUALLY POSSIBLE TO BREATHE.
2. do we really even need an escape hatch? guess what, people. if the plane crashes, we're all going to die. so let's stop worrying about row nine not being able to recline 'just in case...' and install some hot tubs and couches in this S.O.B. and call it a day.
thing two which happened when the xanax REAllY kicked in (yes, it gets worse than it was in the description of thing one).
so, apparently i wrote that little piece of bitchery in the first few minutes after the plane took off, and then proceeded to promptly fall asleep. i kind of remember going to sleep. i had my coat sort of pulled up over me, and one of those airplane pillows sort of stuck under my chin. i was sitting on the aisle, with my two littlest sisters in the row with me.
i woke up two hours later with drool on my sweatshirt, an airplane pillowcase on my lap--but no airplane pillow to be seen, and my coat on the floor in the aisle about two rows behind me. as i was re-orienting myself with the world of non-drugged people, the first thing i heard was the main flight attendant come on the speaker and say 'ok, we're going to come through with the beverage cart again, so if everyone could try to make sure that their arms and legs are out of the aisle, that would be great.'
why did i get the feeling she was giving this warning because of me?
and, more importantly, what the heck were my little sisters doing as i apparently embarrassed myself in my sleep?
the point is, i'm here.
in one piece.
let the relaxation begin.
*none of which resulted in my death.