So, we went to Miami.
Took 1 valium at 2am night before flight, woke up at 4:45am to get to the airport. Arrive at airport at 6:15-- flight's at 7am. Forgot my ipod. Need the ipod to drown out frightening mechanical sounds of engines, etc. Get McDonald's, board the flight. Step on the plane and it smelled funny, was hot and children were screaming-- it was like a zoo. I said to myself, this is bad, very, very bad.
Get to our seats-- 18 E, F-- I'm in a window. I need the aisle. 18 is too far back in the plane, the seats were like the width of seats you'd sit in in elementary school. The seat in front of me was right in your face. I pack myself in to the seat with my bag, husband's bag, etc. Start to eat McDonalds-- take 2 more valium.
Did I mention it was hot? It was like Dante's inferno in there. For whatever reason I'm like a woman in menopause--- if the body temperature gets out of wack bad things happen. I strip off my jacket, scarf, cardigan. The place was dimly lit, there were the aforementioned screaming children, all it needed was chickens and goats to start walking up and down the aisle. It wasn't a 737-300, it was an decomissioned school bus you'd expect to be driven through the Andes in. Then the pilot announces that we'll be waiting at the gate for a few minutes because of a "maintenance" problem. He doesn't say they need to refuel, that they're moving bags or that they're refilling the peanuts and snacks. No, "maintenance". This coupled with the heat, humidity and screaming children made me say-- I'm getting OFF.
Yes, I got off the plane-- I'm crying hysterically and I gather my stuff and get off. Yes, I was that person causing a scene getting off of the airplane. Husband stays on the plane and I get off. I call my parents. Am told not to drive anywhere because of the 3 valium in the system-- sound advice, especially since I'm not driving a Pinto that's paid off.
Husband calls on the other line-- the fuel pump on the plane is broken, they are going to do a change of equipment. A-HA! Vindication! Fuel pump--- that's big, that's an issue, that's a "this thing is going down" kind of maintenance problem! Finally, they changed planes and Robert got on the new plane.
SO. I decided to suck it up and board-- I figured what are the odds of two crash worthy maintenance problems happening to the same group of passengers?? I make the gate agent promise that the plane won't crash. In the event it does, perhaps this, even being hearsay might be a great claim for liability. I miraculously got a seat at a window, but in an exit row so there was no seat in front of me. By the time we taxied the valium had started to take effect.
Then-- I decided this was a perfect time to knit. I'm making a baby hat which involves adding a color occasionally (it will be a strawberry when it's finished). So here I am on the valium and I'm trying to knit. So of course I read the pattern wrong and have to rip out 2 rows of work. Fine, except I'm using circular needles and this fricking really thin yarn, so I rip out the stitches but then some of them drop out-- which means now I'm trying to re-thread this yarn on to my circular needle and I have to actually pick up dropped stitches with a super thin little sewing needle. I'm going blind as it is and here I am valium-ed up and trying to do this-- it was truly idiotic.
Flight back, not much better, got in to a fight with the Continental gate agent about seats. But now I am ready to book a trip to Italy!