August 05, 2011

Travelling to San Diego.

We had had such a fabulous time in LA but it was time to move on to San Diego and start to think about what we were actually supposed to be doing here. And that would be to learn about blogging, American Style.

Eden and I got to LAX and proceeded to if stand in line. And stand. And stand. And stand. After a few hours I asked the lady in front of us if this was normal.  She laughed loudly and told me in a strong Mexican accent. "YEEEIIIIIIRRRSSSSSSSSSSSSSS." Eden Riley was getting riled and when we eventually got to the top of the the queue,  the scary looking check in lady turned out to be cool and actually laughed when I dropped the F-bomb when told Eden's bag weighed too much and we had to take ten pounds out.

We asked how much ten pounds was,  and the Check in Chick looked at us like we were complete morons.

So I put her cowboy boots in my carry on and we were good to go.

We then we went and stood in line. And stood, And stood. And stood. We were going through security which meant you had to take everything off (apart from your basic garments) and put it all through the x-ray machine.  Then you had to stand in this xray box with your legs spread and your hands in the air while security took a photo of you. Then I got felt up good and proper by this lady.

I asked her whether she was going to buy me a drink first. Just a warning to you, LAX security have no sense of humour, or as I suspect, this chick has heard that joke 10000 times.

We were headed to our plane when I looked out the window and spotted this cute, retro exhibition plane from 1930.

I was horrified when we were swept along with our fellow passengers towards the plane. I am not a good flyer, so I figured I would pop half a Xanax and throw back a beer on board and it would be sweet. But my happy pill was in my checked in luggage. FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK.

The plane had one isle and had one seat on one side and two seats on the other side. This was the view from my seat. The plane had propellers. Like in the olden days.

I ended up in the exit seat row.  The flight attendant (who did not need a PA system,  just needed to shout) came up and asked me whether I was prepared to assist her in the event of an emergency. I looked her in the eye and said "I would love to." I would be so good in that type of situation.

At one point, I stood in the isle and while on my tippy toes, and if I stretched my arms out as far as I could,  I was able to touch all four sides of the plane.

Eden was seated up the front,  and occasionally she would turn around and look at me. She and her Penrith Travel Agent organised this flight so I did not feel bad when I mouthed to her... I HATE YOU...

And at that moment,  I really did. But now we are in a sea of 3000 bloggers in San Diego, I have forgiven her.

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