Blue Lawn Chair

Apparently, I care about lawn chairs.
I’ve always known that I typically give inanimate objects personalities and feelings. The “As-is” section at IKEA (what is with that name? There doesn’t need to be a hyphen between “as” and “is.” Also, if they are going to do that, why is “is” not capitalized?? Or is that their attempt at trying to be charming and show they are based in a place where English is not the first language?) depresses me like you couldn’t believe. Sad, friendless, broken items longing to be chosen by those passing through, often times dealing with the shoppers’ mockeries.
 
Okay, call me crazy. Whatever. I’ll accept it.
 
When last in Minnesota, I stayed with relatives who live in a house with a lovely backyard leading to a lake with a dock. One day during my trip, someone placed two blue plastic lawn chairs on the aforementioned dock. That evening (or maybe it was the next? It really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of this story) the weather took a turn for the worse; heavy winds, a deluge of rain, and a tornado of death, Wizard of Oz style (maybe I am being a bit dramatic…except for the wind). So, this torrential wind blew one of the two blue plastic lawn chairs into the lake.
 
There it sat, all day. I couldn’t help but think of the poor, abandoned lawn chair ending up like the items in IKEA’s “As-is” section (GAH! Just capitalize “is” and remove the hyphen!). All alone, insults from even the broken and discarded IKEA items pummeling it from all angles in Swedish, mocking the blue lawn chair for being a lame American item wanted by no one.
 
By the second day, the lake even decided it didn’t want Blue Lawn Chair in its waters and had pushed it to the most muck and algae-ridden part of the lake. Enough was enough. I stood up on the dock in my swimsuit and declared (to no one, but out loud) “I’m going in!” And in I went. I cannot adequately describe the revolting, stomach-churning feeling of swimming through and attempting to stand in the thick, mucus-like algae and who knows what else in which Blue Lawn Chair had ended up. All I can say is I felt submerged in some radioactive waste, surely full of disgusting parasites and leeches, conforming around my body, giving me some horrific super power like being able to pop my eyes out and juggle them. Absolutely purposeless except maybe as a weird party trick.
 
I grabbed Blue with one arm, determined to evade my demise as the eyeball juggler, but equally determined to get Blue (new nickname) back on the dock. The rigid plastic edges of the chair scraped my arms and legs, and I struggled to get Blue onto my back, carrying him (or her??) to safety like a drowning child. Eventually, I made my way back, thrust Blue onto the dock, and climbed up myself. I noticed cuts on my legs that later would be surrounded by bruises. But it was worth it to get Blue reacquainted with Other Blue Lawn Chair. I sighed with relief, proud of my efforts.
 
Then, the wind blew an innertube left on the dock into the lake. I declared, with less gusto and again to no one, “I’m going in.”

Ethereal Etihad

I am crazy. People have told me that because of prior decisions I've made and I really started to believe it about halfway through my three-part flight from Bangkok to Christchurch, New Zealand which began with a seven-hour flight to Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirates followed by a 22-hour layover.

The airline with which we flew made the painfully-long flight much more bearable. Being my first flight with Etihad Air, I had no idea what to expect. Thus, imagine my pleasant surprise when the seats I assumed to be Business Class turned out to be our Economy ones. The seats were noticeably larger than those on other planes, we were given a little "sleep well" packet with earplugs, a toothbrush and toothpaste, noise-cancelling headphones, and the widest selection of in-flight entertainment I had ever seen in my life. The real thing that put the service over the edge was the eye masks provided. One side of it said "do not disturb," and the other said "wake me up to eat." That is genius. The built-in tray even had various options. You could fold it down halfway for just drinks, pull out the cup holder next to the drink screen, or fold out the tray all the way for larger projects or meals.

The flight attendants were gorgeous and impeccably dressed, of course, and provided sensational service with only a light dose of sass on the side. They passed out menus with dining options and a list of the available beverages which included top shelf alcohol and fine wines and beers. After the safety video, the pilot came over the PA and announced that he would be dimming the cabin lights, which then transformed to dim lights of changing colors, giving the plane's interior a rather "party bus" feel.

Yes, Etihad was fantastic on the two out of three legs of the journey during which we used them. The only negative aspect disguised as a luxury was that the seats reclined incredibly far. This would be nice in theory for anyone able to sleep in an overly-reclined-airplane-seat position (a very specific sleep position), bot not for someone like me who prefers to sleep leaning forward with her head on the tray. When the seat in front of me was all the way back, placing my head on a tray was impossible. That's not to say I didn't crane my neck in ridiculous ways in an attempt to do so anyways.

NOT POSSIBLE!!

He's mastered it

Another complaint has nothing to do with the crew or company, but with a rather.... charming... passenger. Starting during the meal portion of the flight and heading well into the designated sleeping part of the flight, one rather large and boisterous man was leaning on my seat and standing in the aisle while loudly speaking Farsi to another passenger. The flight attendants were getting quickly irritated as he couldn't even be bothered to move his big bum even an inch as they tried to move past to do their job. So that was fun. Oh wait...no, it really wasn't.

I was considering coupling this blog with my reflections on the Middle East, specifically their airport security and customs, but I love leaving you curious and this blog is a novel already, so hold your horses.

My only question now is... what does their first class look like??

Philippine Airlines

Self-admittedly, I am a complete and total wuss when it comes to plane travel. I freak out and completely overreact at the slightest bump once we are airborne and assume that we are about to go down in a dramatic and fiery manner. 

However, that doesn't mean I haven’t been through flights that people without a deadly fear of flying also considered terrifying. I’ve been on more planes in my life than I can easily recall without perusing old emails containing flight details and asking my parents about trips I took during my youth. The point is, I’ve been on a lot of planes and I’ve experienced a lot of turbulence. None of the aforementioned turbulence could have prepared me for what I experienced during my flight from Tokyo to Manila last week.

I enjoyed Philippine Air the first time I flew with them to Japan about six months ago now. They served a piping hot meal even on a short flight, they showed a HILARIOUS safety video, and provided excellent customer service throughout the entire trip. So, I was content with having chosen them a second time to fly from Tokyo to Bangkok with a layover in Manila. My face lit up like a Christmas tree when they informed me at the airport that I was allowed to check not only one but FOUR bags for free with them (I only had two to check, but still). Even as a Mileage Plus member with United, I am still only allowed to check one bag for international flights without having to pay an insane fee.

Perhaps, however, their lenient baggage allowance on my flight was one of the contributing factors leading to the most terrifying voyage of my entire life. I honestly think that the plane was immensely overweight and caused it to have such problems in the sky. Also a possible factor was the fact that we were seated in the very back of the plane. As in, row 75 of about 80. Even when we were on the ground, there were some terrifying noises coming from the bottom of the plane. As we took off, my hands almost immediately began shaking, and essentially didn't stop until we landed. I was utterly convinced that the plane was going to go down after the first horrifying bout of turbulence. 

For once in my life while recounting a plane ride, I am NOT exaggerating. At one point after takeoff, the plane dipped so far down that it felt like, as my boyfriend described it, the pilot dropped the joystick for a moment. I began trembling and crying, and couldn't even begin to comprehend that we still had four hours of flight time remaining.

I knew that the descent would be bad, but I could never have imagined just how bad. The drops, dips, and violent shaking of the plane made our previous ride on Space Mountain a few days prior seem like a relaxing Sunday cruise. A baby began screaming at the top of his lungs for the last bumpy hour of the flight, adequately reflecting my own emotions. All of the passengers on the plane gasped multiple times as the plane bounced up and down violently.

Needless to day, I honestly considered staying in the Philippines for the remainder of my life to avoid ever getting on another plane.

I do LOVE the airport in Manila. It is so ridiculously unofficial, and therefore wonderfully amusing. Upon arrival, since we were transferring to another flight, we were asked to enter the “transfer room” and have a seat on the “transfer couch” while two agents shoveling down chocolate cake took a quick glance at our boarding passes. Once they finished their cake and did nothing else, they asked us to follow them down a few hallways and to our gate. Thankfully, the flight to Bangkok from Manila was nice and smooth!

Flying on Friday the 13th

My day last Friday did not go according to plan. However, it did not go as poorly as a Friday the 13th can go theoretically, at least for one who is superstitious. I am not sure if I consider it a victory or a disaster. I guess we will go with victory to seem optimistic even though I can sometimes be a "glass-half-empty" kind of gal. My plan initially was to fly out to Denver at 10:20 PM and land around 11:45 (love those time changes, except on the way back). However, someone advised me to check on the flight status because of the weather which was causing a number of delays and cancellations. So, as instructed, I called United, and asked the agent in a somewhat frantic voice if there were any earlier flights on which she could put me. She said my only option was the last remaining seat on a flight leaving in about an hour from an airport that takes about 45 minutes to get to. I told her to change my ticket. I had not packed, and had not intended to for at least another two hours, so I threw some random useless belongings into a bag and headed off, only to realize once I arrived at the Denver airport how many important things I forgot.

I got a ride from my cousin who got me there faster than a flying cheetah on meth, if they were to exist. I literally RAN in my wedge shoes because I did not realize how far away everything is in Dulles- security is like 40 minutes away form check-in, if you walked at a leisurely pace. So I ran as fast as humanly possible, attracting awkward look after awkward look. When I arrived at security, I was pleased to find a relatively short line, but was the opposite of pleased when the TSA agent stopped me for a random "hand screening." I pouted like a little kid, informing him that my flight boarded in 10 minutes. He felt guilty and let me go through the TSA Pre check line. Apparently, throwing a fit works sometimes. I wish I had known that as a kid.

So, here is a little side note: the TSA Pre check line is the most magical place after Disneyland, easily. You don't have to take off your shoes or coat, don't have to take out liquids or laptops- all you do is walk through and you're DONE. It makes plane travel almost pleasant again. Key word: almost. So, after my mad dash to the gate, I discovered that my flight was delayed another 30 minutes. Dandy. At least it gave me time to chow down a burrito.

So, now begins the bad luck. After boarding, the captain informed us that the plane was in a massive line of planes waiting to depart, and that we would be waiting at least 20 more minutes. As I groaned about this to my seat neighbor, he reminded me that I was not even supposed to be at the airport for another three hours. Well said, seat neighbor, well said. He ended up being a fantastic seat neighbor. We played this game where we went through every page of Sky Mall and picked which item we would buy. Fun fun fun....

So, I got through the day without a single black cat crossing my path, I didn't walk under a ladder, and the plane didn't crash. Victory, indeed!