2002-02-16~~2:42 p.m.
The Oregon Trail : Part One
Greetings from Eugene! Thought you all would enjoy a Bridget Jones-esque account of my journey this weekend. Enjoy. 4:05 p.m.: Brief encounter with angry black man at curbside check in. Wanted to say irritatingly, "Having a bad day, are we?" but thought it better to hold tongue. 4:15 p.m.: Just devoured ENTIRE Cinnabon. Will not be eating for duration of visit in Oregon. 4:30 p.m: tried to read latest issue of Cosmo. Became increasingly disgusted with Britney Spears being labeled "Fearless and Fun Woman of the Year" and insulted at subject matter of entire "sex-zine." Wanted to barf partially digested Cinnabon on Britney cover but decided too messy. 4:32 p.m.: Became irritated at loud passengers in waiting area and Kenny G on Muzak. Decided against threatening short Asian man for leaning head back too far while sitting behind me. 4:39 p.m: Fed up, decided to venture to restroom. Wondered if it a bad sign to want to stay by myself in large handicapped stall for "alone time." Decided yes, and to take advantage of makeup in carry-on. 4:47 p.m.: Look like cheap whore or maybe just good MAC advertising. Glad to have ditched belt while in restroom. Too confining in already tight jeans and small plane seat. Wondered briefly what possessed me this a.m. 4:48 p.m.: Realized makeup art will be lost on co-passengers. Nobody of any decent facial structure to be aboard. One Mullet with oversized crab clip embedded in back of head but holding no hair from sides noted. 5:30 p.m.: Wondered almost aloud if small commuter plane with outside stairs will be our plane. Silently curse bin Laden for inadvertently causing tighter security measures thus making checking bags difficult. 5:40 p.m.: Discover once in line need to re-check in due to AngryBlackMan not doing so. Silently curse AngryBlackMan. 5:49 p.m.: Finally adequately situated in seat 9-A with tight jeans causing only minor discomfort. Silently praise God for ensuring that Steve Madden Charlie's Angels boots do not cause collision between face and tarmac on hurried way to commuter plane. 6:58 p.m.: Is there anything more annoying than a loud girl on a cell phone in a packed but silent airport shuttle on a Friday night? Nope. Didn't think so. 7:03 p.m.: Mullet #2 of the trip walked out of bathroom stall and into the fluorescent light. Blonde and fried, smooth. Heaven in the form of stringy protein. 7:27 p.m.: Nauseating smell eminating from God Knows Where. Fish? Perhaps. Soup? Maybe. All I know is, I want to vom. 7:50 p.m.: Positive that checking bag, despite new bin Laden-era stipulations, would have been much easiers. Muse about the lady in 9-D who was unfortunate recipient of my backpack in the face. Oops, but also, ha! 7:53 p.m.: Wonder to self if chatting on cell phones via earpieces while walking in crowded malls or sitting on airplanes in seat 18-B will become fad. Hope to self it will not. Note that it is disturbing to see people evidently talking to selves yet appearing quite sane. 8:45 p.m.: Drink cart. "What would you like to drink, ma'am?" (Called ma'am 20 minutes after young Asian guy next to me tries to impress me by being a fledgling "actor"...read: college dropout...and tells me he thought I was 19 years old) Ma'am I most certainly am not. "Do you have any concerns about sodium intake?" "Um, no, except that it causes bloating." I get my tomato juice and miniature pretzels and drink cart moves on. 8:47 p.m.: Mullet #3 on SNL commercial on in flight t.v. Is this a sign? 8:50 p.m.: AsianActor dumps 7Up all over his tray table and lap during "Frasier" rerun. Unfortunate. Midnight: Home at last with Annelise. Time for bed.
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