Friday, December 21, 2018
It was busier than ever this year before I left. I had deliverables on no less than six cruises, this one, another Christmas junket to Mexico, Shanghai to Singapore, Shanghai to Tokyo, a SilverSea combo that was complicated, and a brand new one, National Geographic circumnavigating Iceland, in July. I sure would like to go along on that one. I might. They have single cabins.
Anyway, I curtailed my social life for a few days and got it all done, with two nights that I could socialize, and I did. Sylly P was moving downstairs to Steve and Trish’s apartment, and her vet was visiting her mother, next door to me. She brought Sylly P some meds, including steroids, for her unrelenting diarrhea. (Only I would discuss this in my blog, I know). It’s no joke. It has been going on for months, but the pooping puddy tat is otherwise healthy, acting normal, and so far, not messing the rugs. Steve and Trish and I had dinner on the 17th with Dan, her vet’s husband, and Geri, her mother. And last night she moved in with the Harrolds. It was strange, not having her in bed, especially as she had been so loving the night before. I missed her warm furry little body.
I had booked a couple of last minute things for our holiday, yesterday, and woke up this morning realizing that re-printing our itinerary and sending it to Montreal would be a very good idea, so I did that, and the long suffering Eric put up with me being 25 minutes late out the door.
The Petaluma narrows didn’t do us in, but there was a lot of traffic getting through Marin. It didn’t matter to me, as my plane was only scheduled to leave at 12:15 pm, but it put Eric in a crunch for his next ride. I used the time to wish the family a Merry Christmas and to call the Montreal friends who were flying out later to join me.
I had to call them again from the airport, and Eilat, my Buenos Aires friend, too. After I had left my checked bag, and was comfortably settled on the pot for my morning constitutional, AA sent me a text saying my plane now wasn’t leaving until 12:50 pm, and I would likely miss my connection to Buenos Aires.
On that happy note, I got back into the service line at American, and waited over an hour, because I had been too cheap to pay for Business Class or even an extra $33 for “Priority Service.” I had paid for a seat upgrade, mind you, but priority service was extra. No wonder everybody hates flying now.
By the time I got to the head of the line, I had another text to say that my SFO-LAX would now leave at 12:35 pm. I stayed in line and talked to the agent. I figured I had earned it. She was most reassuring that the plane would dock near the LAX-EZE plane and I would make it. I headed for the gate.
On my way there, lo and behold, I passed a yoga room.
It was pretty basic, but there were a couple of mats, and some sanitizing wipes, and I had a half-hour to spare. By the time I was done, there were five people in there, all of whom could put me to shame, but I am sure it did me good. By the time I got to the gate, it was almost time to board.
Of course, the plane left late, and by the time it got to LAX, we had to dock at a farther gate, and there were less than 10 minutes before take-off, for Buenos Aires. I shouldered my backpack, grabbed Rroffice (Red rolling office) and took off at a very fast walk. A couple of minutes later, I was at the gate, which was closed, but they were waiting for us. I was the first passenger from LAX to get there, and I wasn’t even breathing hard. “I’m a healthy little old lady”, I said. The gate agent wanted to know what I ate. I had to fess up to the fact that my diet contains absolutely no green vegetables. That even impresses my own doctors.
So, here I am on American Airlines inaugural non-stop flight LAX-EZE, with my computer balanced on its spine, because the person in front of me is rude enough to recline the seat. Welcome to the friendly skies. They can’t get much friendlier.
And about the blog. Please always remember to practice safe sex with the Internet – If you answer this blog be very sure your coordinates don’t appear in the message. Better still, email me directly. You know my email.
Happy Holidays, and Purrs,
Helen and Sylly P