shutitdown: taking one for the anecdote

Results tagged “flying”

Luckily my chatter about my diminutive bag seemed to tickle the gate agent when I checked in at Heathrow. My first leg of the journey was London to Helsinki and then the second was Helsinki to Tokyo. I calculatingly threw on a pair of pearl earrings and deliberately didn't wear sneakers. Despite it being eight in the morning (early for the unemployed), I amped up the level of banter with the airline personnel, replete with quips and giggles. And the Finnish gods were smiling on me, because as I approached the gate, the agent said, "there's been a change to your ticket." My heart dropped because I had already managed--through sheer, unadulterated charm--to weasel my way into a really good seat.

You can't take that away from me, I thought, while knowing, of course, how easily they could. Because really, for today at least, that exit row seat was all I had. A ten hour flight begs for a bulkhead. But as I sadly relinquished my boarding pass, I saw the new seat number. 4D. Oh yes, I had gotten the coveted upgrade and have begun my backpacking trip in the front cabin drinking champagne and swaddling myself in cushiony duvets to try to sleep. Try, of course, because I was attempting to go to sleep at 6pm my time.

Two weeks ago I had a brilliant idea that I was going to avert jet lag by waking up 20 minutes earlier every day before I left, with the end goal of being up by 3am for the few days before I left. This would be another example of my attempts at self-improvement through unrelenting self-abuse. Obviously, the plan did not go as hoped, despite me programming my ipod to play Bobby Brown "My Perogative" at full volume in the early hours of the morn. The best I did was waking up at 4am. That night I fell asleep at 7:30pm, and is if to mock my attempt to violently wrest control of my own circadian rhythms, slept for 12 hours.

So despite the plush reclined seat, a couple of valium and some bubbly (only after the sushi, miso soup and soba noodles, of course), your valiant hero tossed and turned for hours before drifting off and dreaming of frequent flyer miles.

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