Day 162: Fly Girl and Fly Boy Fly Together

On Day 162, I flew with boyfriend!

This doesn't sound so crazy, but it is when you realize that Mark and I have been to New York, Ohio, North Carolina, Florida (twice), New Orleans, Alabama, Guatemala, Belize, Mexico and more...without ever setting foot on a plane together, you'd realize that it's almost a feat of travel! While we could have gotten to Portland, OR in the car, we were trying to maximize that ever-coveted PTO...and flights were like, $175 round trip, which, with the price of gas, is cheaper than driving!

Both looking scary but hey, we're on a plane!

Day 140...or is it 141? Tales from taking the Red-Eye

Because my boss is openly, self-proclaimedly as cheap as they come, he refused to let me stay one minute past my client billable time in San Diego. For me, this meant that the convention closed for the day on Wednesday, we went out for dinner, and then went promptly to the airport for my 10:30 PM flight back to Atlanta.

I had a 5-hour flight to Charlotte, combined with a 3 hour layover in Charlotte, and 35 minute flight back to Atlanta. I left SD and arrived in Atlanta at 9:30 AM, spending the whole night on a plane or in an airport.

This is called a red-eye, because all the people who get suckered into this cheap flight can't possibly sleep restfully on a plane (at least in coach), so they all come out with red eyes. I thought it was just a cultural term until I pulled into the Charlotte airport, went to the bathroom and noticed that my eyes were in fact as red as they could possibly be. I would have taken a picture but I have a little more self-respect than that.

But take my word for it that I looked JUST LIKE Natalie Portman in Black Swan:

On the flight, I was seated next to a couple who was clearly very "new," so they were kissing each other repeatedly and doing the whole high-pitched fake arguing thing...

Girl: "Why do you not like when I wear a pink hair tie??"
Boy: "Aw, babe you know I just think your hair is best complimented by a green hair tie."
Girl: "Babe, I just ran out of those, but I'll by them just. for. YOU!"
Boy: "You are the sweetest and cutest girlfriend EVER with your pink hair tie, I take it back!"
Girl: "AWWWWWW"

Leah: *moans audibly while perhaps saying something to the effect of shuttheeffupandtakeittothebathroomyoufreakycutefreaks*

Taking a red eye was pretty freaking awful, cute, cuddly couple excluded. I can't sleep on airplanes, no matter how many drugs I take. Thus, upon my return to Atlanta, I crawled into bed and slept from 11:00 AM to 5:30 PM, and again from 11:30 PM to 7:30 AM. That's 14 hours, if you're into counting.

I am STILL messed up from all of this. You'd think I'd get the day off today, and you'd be partially right. I'm technically in the office, but I'm jamming to Pandora, updating the blog, and catching up on gossip.

Does this all make sense? If not, just read the past couple of posts and try to put the pieces together for yourself.

Day 138: Business Travel, and Pre-Plane Puking

On Day 128, I "woke up" at 6:00 AM from having not really slept through the night from coughing and nerves. Upon waking, I started feeling NAUSEOUS, and I told Mark (who also didn't sleep through the night thanks to my coughing antics), that I was 100% sure I was going to throw up.

There was no reason for this AT ALL. Like, there's no way in hades that I'm pregnant, I had just two beers at Sunday Funday 12:00ish and nothing new and crazy in the diet. And plus, I NEVER get sick. I don't get motion sickness, I'm not allergic to anything, I never drink to the point of puking, I don't get stomach bugs (except once last year...but that was a crazy exception too), so I didn't really even know how to handle myself here. I still don't know why this happened.

I stayed curled in the fetal position for a while, went to take a shower and had to get out immediately after washing my hair to dry heave. I dried my hair while sitting on my towel on the floor, crawled to my room to get dressed, and just as Mark walked in the bathroom to fix his hair, I got "the surge."

You know "the surge." It's that wave of cold sweat that washes over you, the signature tingle in the back of your throat and the instinct to get as close as possible to a toilet or other appropriate vom receptacle.

The incident happened, and I made us officially 45 minutes late in heading to the AIRPORT. Yes, dear readers, I was up early because I was headed out to get on an airplane for an hour and a half to Washington/Dulles, and another five hours to San Diego.

Puking.

Puking BEFORE I got on a flying tube I couldn't escape from, complete with un-preventable turbulence, nasty gas and stale coffee smells.

I got on the first leg of my journey and asked the flight attendant for a couple air sick bags ("A couple??" "Yes, I've been sick this morning twice and want to be prepared!"), and my seat partner promptly moved herself. I couldn't blame her.

At the end of my journey? My company party at a SEAFOOD RESTAURANT.

I made it out alive, but just barely.

And that was the start of my first business trip to San Diego.