Oh, hey

I meant to post more as my voyage progressed, but I was ever so busy. So I've got a whirlwind post of just the highlights planned. A preview: something called "pickle" is on its way over from my co-workers. Not "a" pickle; just "pickle." It's spread and I actually quite liked it.

But my purpose here today is to tell you I have returned (with a load of Hotel Chocolat chocolates and Mars candies for the Significant Omnivore). All of my luggage returned as well, no thanks to the TSA people at O'Hare who, AGAIN failed to re-zip my suitcase. Luckily, on the return trip, I put all small items in zipper compartments and used the little clampy things to secure my clothing. All of those things were as I left them, so I'm not really sure what the point of unzipping my luggage was.

Also, I got my vegetarian meals on the return flight from London. This is both good and bad. Good because the options were "beef or chicken," neither of which could have easily been converted to a vegetarian meal (unlike the omelet and pizza). Bad because it was eggplant moussaka on potatoes and was such a miniscule portion that even with the small salad (as in, four square inches of salad) and fruit, it was not enough food (hello, protein? nope.). Also, I have history of getting food poisoning from eggplant dishes. But I took my chances and ate it because I had no choice. Despite allowing two and a half hours for check-in at Heathrow, I had to be pulled out of line to make the plane. So I had no time to stop and get any food or water to take onto the plane as I'd planned. American Airlines at Heathrow is a bloody mess. Even at 7:45 on a Sunday morning.

Anyhoo. So we got our first meal about an hour into a seven and a half hour flight. No snack accompanied it like on the flight over (I was hoping for that processed cheese product again--would have been a lifesaver). About two hours afterward, I ate some of the food I'd meant to bring back to the SO. I was starving. It was just as I'd pictured it might be. People were begging for drinks to combat low blood sugar. People were getting restless. Those of us who might have slept were being kept awake by a toddler who thought he was a monkey (he shrieked and cried the duration of the flight--I'm not exaggerating). We were Desperate Passengers.

The problem was compounded for me as my row had been assigned an utter bitch of a flight attendant. I don't think I've ever been treated so rudely by a flight attendant in all my life. She was rude to my seat neighbors as well. I don't know who peed in her Cheerios that morning, but it was still no excuse for the treatment.

When they finally came around for the second food service, there was maybe an hour left in the flight. Pizza! But not for me. I got another tiny bowl of eggplant--this time sitting on white rice. High glycemic index, little nutritional value. Yay. Oh, and a tiny container of grapes. I'd been told by the flight attendant on the flight coming over that they usually have extra food going back to the states (Ostensibly to serve large Americans--who knows), so when the cart came around with the pizza, I asked, "Excuse me, do you have an extra pizza?" Exactly those words. Yes or no question. What I got was, "Only one meal per person. And you have your meal--it's right there" in a tone that was so condescending and rude, it was all I could do to contain myself. I said nothing to her, but said to my neighbor "Well, that was completely unnecessary" in a voice loud enough for her to hear. Even if she'd just said "no" sharply, it would have been better. Oooh, I wanted so much just to kick her. Oh, and I didn't get my cookie. Everyone else got grapes and a cookie on their tray. No cookie for me.

While I'm complaining (and I really shouldn't--the only delay was in Chicago and the notorious baggage handlers at Heathrow actually got my luggage on the correct plane), what's the deal with security procedures? Why can't they have the same procedure and same rules at every airport? Flying out of the US and within the US, you can have tweezers and clippers and nail files but no gel insoles, but no sharp objects at all coming into the US from some other country. I don't remember the insole thing. Flying out of Nashville and Heathrow, I was able to keep my laptop in my bag, but I had to take it out at O'Hare (I had to go through security again their after coming back into the country). I had a Sprite in my bag that I had to surrender because I didn't know I had to go through security again and then I got ridiculed for not taking my laptop out. With a confused look on my face, I ask the guy with the thick Chicago accent to clarify what he has just said, "I need to take my laptop out of the bag?" "Yes, ma'am, it's been a rule for about five or six years now" (in a quite sarcastic tone). I'd had it with rude people, so I shot back "Well, not in London or Nashville." And I moved along.

To top things off, when it was (finally) time to board the plane in Chicago, my boarding pass had been flagged somehow. I was told there was an equipment (plane) change and I got moved from the sixth row to the seventeenth. As in the last row of the plane. The one with the seats that don't recline and is right next to the lav. Thank goodness it was only an hour. And that I had time to grab a sandwich and a bottle of water during the delay.

I had a good time, but I'm not ready to go back any time soon. My boss and her boss do this once or twice a month. God help them, I don't know how they stand it.

UK Trip Day One: 20 July 2008

~11:00 CDT 20 July 2008
I just did something I've never done before. I ate an omelet while flying 39K feet over Ontario.

The travel agent thankfully moved my seat from the back of economy (next to the lav) up to the front of economy but neglected to note a request for a vegetarian meal. I knew this before getting on the flight and brought some trail mix and pre-made bean and grain snack in a can, but I knew they wouldn't get me through 7.5 hours in the air on the way to London.

So as I watched an Indian family eat what looks to be a tasty vegan meal (though I wonder about that bagel), I got to choose between pancakes with scrambled eggs sitting on top of slices of ham and an omelet.

I've avoided omelets my whole life because I'm just not a big fan of eggs (nor of the egg-producing industry, but that came much later than my general dislike of the taste). Plus, omelets are pretty much eggs cooked in butter, right? Yuck. Sounds disturbingly fattening.

But this airline food "three cheese omelet" looked a little less buttery and came with roasted potatoes and mushrooms instead of dead pig, so I opted to give it a try.

It wasn't bad. I mean, it wasn't great, but it wasn't bad. Well, bad for me I'm sure, but not bad-tasting.

Incidentally, it came with a croissant, too. I haven't had a croissant since I was in France seven years ago. The logic being that if I'm going to consume that amount of calories, it better be the real thing. But something about being trapped on an airplane makes food more appealing than it would be elsewhere. As if I feel like this might be my last opportunity to ever eat, so I may as well go for it. I might need the energy on the island, you know. I even ate the honeydew melon. I don't even like honeydew melon. Later, I will likely eat something the package calls "pasteurized processed cheese spread." But, hey, they included a Toblerone in the package, as well. Sweet.

~14:00 CDT 20 July 2008
I ate every last bit of that cheese spread crap as if it were my last meal. I thought it would be, but no, now I have pizza! A miniature deep dish-style cheese pizza with a salad and oil and vinegar dressing. I'm so pleased to see a salad that I'm not even going to complain that it's iceberg lettuce. To save on my carbs, I think I'll leave the pizza bones behind. And forsake the "oatmeal chewie," though I'm sticking that little guy in the backpack. I might need it on the island, after all. Luckily, I have a pointed nail file (now allowed on flights in carry on luggage, yet gel-filled insoles are not), so I can fight off anyone who tries to steal it from me.

~23:00 GMT 20 July 2008
Well, I made it to London after all. And I'm feeling quite guilty about all the junk I shoved into my facehole during the day. It's amazing what being bored and trapped in an airplane for seven and a half hours will do to your level of standards.