Headlines for Monday:
There are very few things that put me in a bad mood, but I suspect that travelling alone is one of the things I do not do very well, and I have a litany of things to grouse about to prove it. The constant wail of infants spread throughout economy class made it difficult to drift into sleep. The food was blah, although perhaps that's just in comparison to the deliciously spiced burritos I had for dinner. To top it all off, the inflight entertainment system didn't work for the flight from Toronto to Anchorage, which meant that there was no way to drown out baby cries or distract myself from what was probably a decent pasta meal were I not already predisposed to grouse about it.
Fortunately, this complete failure of the inflight entertainment system had the flight attendants feeling properly sorry for those few of us who had the problem. They gave us two $25 gift vouchers in order to compensate for the inconvenience. I flipped through the catalog and didn't really find anything particularly interesting. The flight attendants promised that an engineer will look at the system while we're in Anchorage. There's little point to watching movies on the leg back. The 11-hour flight will land in Hong Kong early morning, so the best course of action is to sleep throughout the Anchorage-Hong Kong leg, which means tiring myself out during the Toronto-Anchorage leg by alternating movies and naps. This, however, depends on the inflight entertainment system, which has chosen this moment to vacation in Bermuda.
I'm starting to realize that I can get by without the usual perks of flying CX.
Also, I nearly lost my glasses. I usually tuck them into my blouse, but I woke up without them. After minutes of frantic search and paranoid ruminations on pranksters who pull eyeglasses off sleeping passengers. Somehow, they ended up under the seat.
So now I'm sitting in the Anchorage airport, having realized the futility of shuffling along in the queue. I am one of a few passengers who have realized that there's no point in standing around when we're all going to end up in the same place, we're all going to have to pile back in, and there's no point rushing because none of the shops are open yet. I'd rather write, thank you very much, all the while mentally grumbling about the compulsive need of governments to ensure national security by restricting the massive-scale smuggling of toothpaste and perfume and checking the passports of people who would rather not even go into the airport if they could. (Ah, the days when you could just sleep through the long flight.)
When we pile back on, my giant of a seatmate wants to exchange seats with me. It's not his first long flight, so I have no idea what possessed him to choose a window seat in economy class where his knees will definitely dig into the seat in front of him. I suppose that in the interests of world peace I should compensate for his bad planning, but I suspect that this good deed doesn't count for karma because I'm in a grumbly mood.
This and the past entry have been uncharacteristically boo-ish, but I *like* occasionally grousing, and flying is a perfect time to do it.
Maybe I'll get $50 worth of chocolates to cheer me up.
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