Because You're an Idiot...

First, to dispel a few comments of disbelief regarding one of my blogs about camping...yes, there really is a raccoon ladder at Sleeper State Park. Using my finely-honed deductive reasoning skills, the raccoons climb into the dumpsters, likely looking for food. The dumpsters are eventually emptied. There is a ladder that the poor campground workers put in the dumpsters for the raccoons to climb out before the Waste Management truck empties the dumpsters. I'm a fan of Darwin...and notably not a fan of raccoons...I say leave the mongrels in the dumpster, and send them to the landfill. Surely they will live a shorter, yet happier, existence there. And because I swear I can't make this shit up, here's a picture. In my mind, it's worth only one word - ewww!

In other news, the Blazer is fixed, and has been rechristened The SpliceMobile. She and I made the trip to and from Caseville without a problem - she shifted like a charm! I will admit, I was a bit nervous after having loaded her up for the trip. Again, how can one person fill an entire vehicle for four days of camping? The thought of The SpliceMobile breaking down made me shudder. I couldn't begin to imagine the rigors of having her towed from some godforsaken small town in the Thumb, let alone figure out how to still make it to the campground (which of course was of utmost importance). But she was a champ!

My current issue is my ridiculous habit of scheduling way too many activities in a short amount of time. I think from Memorial Day weekend through Labor Day weekend, I will have managed to spend the entire weekend in Lansing maybe three times. While I love having things to do (generally speaking - I could've done without the hospital trips to the Detroit area), I'm itching for some time at home. Perhaps this is because I know it's around the corner. I leave for Canada (ahhhhh...Canada - one of my favorite trips of the year!) on Thursday, and return Tuesday, and have the rest of next week off. I love Canada. It's impossible to explain why I love it so much - to describe it, it's a cabin on a lake, with no running water. That's right - outhouse, bathe in the lake, cook on a wood burning stove. Not a five-star resort, by any stretch. But the thought of sitting on the rock, looking up at the incredible stars, waiting to see some of them shoot across the sky while the loons are calling across the lake to each other, all while sharing good company and bad wine is the ultimate relaxation.

So the conversation I had in my head about my recent trips and overscheduling of activities mimicked one of the scenes in Heathers, where Veronica's dad is frustrated while working on a crossword puzzle:

Mr. Sawyer: Would someone tell me why I do these damn things?

Veronica: Because you're an idiot.

Mr. Sawyer: Oh yeah...that's right.

Dexter-thon: The Season 2 Marathon

Runs With Spatula proposed an all-day Dexter Season 2 marathon. I had an extra day off to burn due to returning early from camping in order to head to England, so I scheduled that day off for today. Given my recent car troubles, and being stranded, Runs With Spatula picked me up this morning, and whisked me off to her and Corky's apartment for the Dexter-thon. Sheryl arrived, the DVD was loaded, and the adventure began.

The day was filled with interruptions - a myriad of calls from work, several calls from the dealership regarding my poor Blazer, and a lunch break involving takeout of the House Special Vermicelli from a local Vietnamese restaurant. I finally got a diagnosis on the Blazer. Apparently, when there is a hole in one's exhaust system near the engine compartment, the leaking exhaust can melt wires in the wire harness. I was given the option - replace the wire harness for an ungodly amount of money or have the wires spliced for about a third of that ungodly amount. I opted for the splice, with the intention of searching for a new vehicle in a few months. I'll be stranded for a few more days - the Blazer should be road-ready on Thursday afternoon, hopefully in time for me to make it up to Sleeper State Park before dark for the last tent-camping trip of the summer. I've set my tent up enough this summer to be able to do so after dark, but would really prefer not to have to do that.

But, back to Dexter. We made it through the first five episodes before Runs With Spatula, Sheryl and I had to take a break for a board meeting, followed by dinner. Runs With Spatula whisked me back to her apartment, where Corky was patiently awaiting our return to resume the viewing. We originally planned on two more episodes, but worked in five more instead. I have two left, and despite being exhausted, the ride home amped me up a bit. Watching the last two episodes tomorrow will either require me to eat Ethiopian food with Runs With Spatula in order to snag the DVDs from her (and the pictures of the food on the restaurant's website looked gloppy - a major turnoff to me), or I'll have to walk my happy self to a near-by store to purchase the DVDs. I guess it will depend on how tomorrow goes!

I have been thoroughly enjoying Season 2. I don't know if I can compare it to Season 1 - it has a very different feel. There have been some interesting twists and subplots, some of which seemed obvious, and others that were a little obvious, though I didn't necessarily want them to happen. I'll reserve my final judgment until I see the last two episodes. But Mom, if you're reading this (and I'm sure you are!), make a quick trip to Target tomorrow to pick this up - it's worth it! I know it'll drive Dad nuts to watch this all in one day, but he'll get over it :)

Stranded...so so sad...

My Blazer decided to stop shifting yesterday. She's been a trooper of a vehicle thus far, and with over 163,000 miles, so I'm not surprised that she's aching for a rest. I'm guessing it's a problem with the transmission (possible understatement...), so I drove the whopping mile to the nearest GM dealership, as it's the closest repair shop. Tim at Crippen was very nice, but very new. He neglected to tell me - until I called around 2pm and had him check on the status of my vehicle - that the Transmission Guy called in sick with an absessed tooth. First, that's just more information than I needed. Second, why is there only one guy who can evaluate transmissions? Third, had I known that the Transmission Guy was out sick, I would've had my poor Blazer towed to a shop that had a healthy Transmission Guy today. In anticipation of the car repairs, I was trying to avoid a tow to minimize cost a little. Regardless, my Blazer is still at Crippen, and I had a message from Tim that Transmission Guy reported he will be at work tomorrow.

My dear friend Melissa gave me a ride home from work today. But now I find I'm stranded. This is NOT a tragedy, by any stretch of the imagination. I have the day off tomorrow (Dexter Season II Day - woohoo!!), and my girl Runs With Spatula already offered a ride (she's so sweet!).

But I have realized I have songs with the word "stranded" stuck in my head. So, I thought I'd share:

Stranded
-Heart

Standing here helpless
Where do I go
If you leave me alone
Where do I turn now
If it don't work out
As far as I can see
This isn't the way
That you said it would be...

Don't leave me like this
Don't leave me stranded
If you walk away now
You leave me empty handed
Don't leave me like this
Don't leave me stranded
Don't leave me now
Don't leave me...

Stranded
-Blue October

How's it so, you describe,
All the things that we might do someday?
And who's to know the truth
That what you do is never what you say
Hobsons Choice, enjoy the thrill
Going out, but you don't even care
When all the passion's gone
You can sit and choose which dress to wear

Here we are stranded, where is love to land
When I can fear the world in me? S
o here we are stranded, it's not the way we planned
On our island, lost at sea

Cote d'azur, St. Tropez
Hollywood or Monte Carlo Bay
When all is said and done
Love is rich, but wealth's second to none
Heart and soul, you decide
Far off places, you might need to go
A million miles away
In search of something you already know

Here we are stranded, where is love to land
When I can fear the world in me?
So here we are stranded, it's not the way we planned
On our island, lost at sea
On a mountainside, let the memories fly
And feel this washed away
We can question why, will our love survive
One more, lonely, long Summers day?
Are we right or wrong, to wait so long
When it's our ship docked in the bay?
Should we sail or stay?
Was it over anyway?


And here's the grand finale, as here's where the stranded lyrics issue began:

Sandy
-John Travolta

Stranded at the drive in,
branded a fool,
what will they say Monday at school?
Sandy, can't you see, I'm in misery
We made a start,
now we're apart,
there's nothin' left for me
Love has flown all alone,
I sit and wonder why-y-y oh why you left me, oh Sandy

Oh Sandy, maybe someday, when high school is done
Somehow, someway, our two worlds will be one
In heaven forever and ever we will be,
oh please say you'll stay, oh Sandy

Sandy my darlin', you hurt me real bad, you know it's true
But baby, you gotta believe me when I say,
I'm helpless without you

Love has flown all alone, I sit,
I wonder why-y-y oh why youleft me, oh Sandy
Sandy, Sandy, why-y-y-y, oh Sandy

So none of these songs have anything to do with my Blazer being stuck still at Crippen. It's Monday. But I do appreciate your support if you actually read this whole post. I probably would've skipped most of it.

Sporksball!

It's not often I blog about work, but I couldn't pass this up. I received and email today from a company we purchase products from occasionally. When I'm feeling blue, their emails always cheer me up. It was from New Pig Corporation. What in the world could they possibly sell, you ask? Mostly, spill clean-up and containment materials. But what's fantastic about New Pig is how HOGwild they go about their name! We receive their PIGalog (the porcine version of a catalog) in the mail regularly, and if I have a question about a product, I can call them at 1-800-HOT-HOGS. Plus, they are located on One Pork Avenue in Tipton, PA! They often have freebies with a minimum purchase, and this month it's nothing other than the Sporksball! I wish I could've put a better picture here, but it was layered in the email in a goofy way, but you get the point - it's a football (or should I say PIGskin?) made to look like a pig! Just in time for football season. If you'd like, check out their website (http://www.newpig.com/), select US, and take a look at one of their other offers - a Squeal Deal for PIG juggling stress balls. It's all almost too much, really, but I just love their enthusiasm. While their overkill on all things pig is entertaining, it's not nearly as good as when we purchased an Assman brand day tank, which was shipped from a warehouse on Lickinghole Boulevard... I love my job!

England: The Real Fun!

In my previous post, I alluded to some of the more sordid or risque things I encountered while in Chester. So, here goes!

The first story is not accompanied by a picture, with good reason. I seemed to find the seedy part of town with little problem, which probably doesn't surprise anyone. I was walking down the somewhat shady street (shady meaning suspect, not tree-lined), heading toward City Center, as it's called, which is the center of the city (oh, those crazy English people with their aptly-named geographical areas!). I was at the corner of the City Center, strolling along, doing some people watching. A man caught my eye, as he was sitting on the ground, almost lounging against a building at the corner of the street. I made eye contact, and smiled a bit, like I usually do, when I noticed his arm was moving. My gaze drifted down (because how could it not...), and I noticed his arm moving in a somewhat recognizable way, and before I was able to process it to look away, I saw it. Yes, "it" - the guy was masturbating while sitting on a busy corner in the City Center. Since I have no dignity, I started laughing...hard (no pun intended). I continued walking, chuckling for at least another two blocks.

A short time later, I stumbled across this bar, as I wandered down another shady street, while heading to the park. I didn't go in, as it didn't look like it was open. I'm not sure if I would've gone in had it been open, anyway. But it was pretty amusing.

It's a little strange that these observations happened during the same day, but while walking through City Center, I strolled past who was presumably a street musician. What clued me in was his guitar and case, along with a hat set out for donations. He wasn't playing music at the time, and I guess he was getting ready for a long afternoon, as I noticed he was rolling a joint. I didn't see him light it, but I'm sure it was the next logical step. A few hours later, not too far from the monkey-spanking corner, I observed a drug deal. It was interesting, as it involved four men and two wolf-hounds. And they weren't the least bit subtle. I do admit, I feel like I'm giving Chester a bad rap. I think my timing was impeccable in stumbling upon these occurrences. I can only console you by letting you know I've seen all the same things in Ann Arbor, Detroit, Chicago and LA.

This sign was located in one of the shopping areas in Chester. There were many streets filled with many shops, and some had upper levels that you could access by almost a balcony or raised sidewalk type thing. I saw this and wondered what in the heck it could possibly be for. I came up with a few ideas on my own, but if you have anything creative to add, please feel free to comment - I'd love to see what you can come up with!

England: The Fun!

The first few days of my trip were a bit crazy:

I arrived in Manchester around noon on Tuesday, and was picked up by my colleague, Chris, from our UK office. We drove down to Luton, near London, which was a 250-mile drive. I impressed Chris throughout the trip by not once trying to get into the driver's side of the car.

After spending the night in Luton, we went to the plant Wednesday morning, spent the entire day there, and it was back in the car to drive back almost to where we started. I spent the next two nights in Northwich, in a Premier Inn. Yes, the headboard was purple, but what's hard to tell is that it was fake leather! It reminded me of a bordello. Not that I've been to one, but it's what I would imagine one to look like.

Thursday morning, we drove to Ellesmere Port, about a 40-minute drive from Northwich, to spend the entire day at the plant there. It's almost shocking how different the English accent in the Northwest region is compared to the London accent. For the first few minutes at the plant, I could understand maybe 1 of every 7 or 8 words. Once I grew accustomed, it wasn't too bad. But there really was a striking difference.

Friday was filled with working on the technical proposal for the bids for the plant that we walked through, which really was the entire reason I went to England. We spent the day Friday in the pub of the hotel, tapping away on the computer, referring to documents and notes, and spelling things with the English "u" added to words like honor/honour. I giggled a bit at their A4 paper size, between our normal 8.5" x 11" and our legal size. They simplify in England, and split the difference, and use the same paper size for everything. What a novel concept!

Friday evening, Chris drove me to Chester. He really was a fantastic host - prior to the trip, he had sent me information about Chester as a suggestion of a city near Manchester that was quaint, had enough tourist attractions to be entertaining, and was completely accessible to walking everywhere. He even made hotel reservations for me, and gave me a driving tour of the city before dropping me off at the hotel for the weekend.

Chester is an ancient Roman city. The city walls are still intact, and maintained quite well. I took the time to walk all the way around the city. This is just one of the watch towers I explored along the way:

I also found the amphitheater, dating back to the mid-70s AD. It has been excavated and preserved. It was a pretty awesome sight to see. There is a large curved wall surrounding the inner circle. The amphitheater is very much open to the public. I was able to go walk in the inner circle, on the grounds where they held fights to the death, among other things. I also explored along the curved wall. It was such an amazing feeling to look at those walls, knowing they had been there for almost 2,000 years, and were preserved such that you could visualize people attending events, sitting along the walls and on the hills.

Next to the amphitheater was St. John's Church, founded in the late 600s AD. It had cathedral status for a short time in the late 1070s, but for some reason, was demoted back down to just a church. The church is a beautiful stone building with amazing stained glass windows. It was cool and a bit damp inside, and almost eerily quiet. I walked through the church, and eventually sat down in one of the pews. I sat there for quite a while, thinking about how many people before me had come to the church for whatever reason - to pray, seek sanctuary, be with friends and family, get married, get buried. I thought about my uncle quite a bit, and thought about where my life is headed. And finally, I didn't think about anything - I just sat with an empty mind, not a thought racing through it, and relaxed, listening to my own heart beat. Maybe it was zen, maybe it was meditative...I'm not really sure. But it was the type of moment I know I won't experience very often, and it's a moment I know I will cherish. The following are pictures from the grounds of the church - a tomb and an archway.

Sunday was Family Fun Day at the Racetrack. Chester holds 12 race days

each year. I stumbled upon the track when I was walking a section of the city wall, the day before the races. The track was immense. I can't begin to

guess the area of the track, but it was crazy. The next day, I went back to the track, just to see what it was like all set up. I got there just in time to whip out my camera and snap a shot of the horses running by. In talking to my cab driver the next morning on the way to the airport, the race day had over 35,000 attendees. The center of the track was filled to the bring with spectators, carnival rides and food vendors. Around the track, there were people as far as the eye could see.

There was so much more that Chester offered. I spent a lot of time at Grovesnor Park, located near the amphitheater and the church. The park was huge, with different sections throughout. There were benches everywhere. The lawn was beautiful - the grass was so soft! I had taken my book with me, and found a spot to lie down in the grass and read my book for a few hours. And there were people everywhere! So unlike Lansing, there were all sorts of people gathering throughout - teenagers hanging out with friends, groups of kids playing soccer (football...whatever), couples spending time together, single people doing a spot of people-watching and reading, young families - most every demographic was covered! It was such a cool atmosphere to experience! Downtown Chester offered more shopping than you can imagine, with very few stores duplicated. There were cafes, pubs and restaurants throughout, as well. This has all touched on the wholesome side of Chester...stay tuned for another blog post about a few of the funny signs and lewd behavior I noticed as I traveled the city.

England: The Food

No, it wasn't all boiled. I'm here to dispel the myth: English food isn't half bad.

I ate in various pubs and restaurants during my stay. Here are a few of my favorite dishes:

Sweet Potato Soup with Vegetables. And a pint of Carling, topped off with a splash of lemonade. Why add lemonade to beer, you may ask? It makes for a certain smoothness by taking away a bit of the bite from the hops. Carling is pretty delicious to begin with, but that little bit of lemonade makes it drinkable for an entire evening. I had this at the hotel pub in Northwich on Wednesday night. The pub atmosphere is a bit different than we in the States may expect - it's more of a gathering place that happens to serve alcohol and food, as opposed to a restaurant / bar where you go to eat and drink. The eating and drinking at a pub is incidental, not the intended activity, which is meeting up with friends and family. There were many areas of couches and comfy chairs, as well as traditional dining tables & chairs. There was the definite feeling that lingering was not only acceptable, but expected. Knowing that, I didn't have high expectations for the food, but was pleasantly surprised. The soup was delicious, and was followed by a course of bangers & mash. I was too excited to take a picture, but the meal was fantastic.

In my explorations of Chester, I stumbled up on the Blue Moon Cafe, located on the River Dee. It was billed as having the best sandwiches in Chester. There's a different custom in England, where you order and pay at the bar, and the server brings your food out to you. In that case, it's customary to not tip the server (weird!), as explained by my colleague, Chris. I ordered the club, and have to say it was one of the best sandwiches I have ever had, and it was all because of the bacon. I've loved pork for many, many years. And to me, there is almost nothing better in the realm of food than really good bacon. The bacon in England is different - it looks more like a slice of ham, as opposed to the strips we have here. But though it looks like ham, it's just bacon-y goodness - salty, fatty, pork delight, cooked to perfection where it was slightly crisp, yet still chewy with a melt-in-your-mouth quality. Utterly fantastic.

I loved the cafe so much that I went back the next day for lunch. I noticed rainbow flags and triangles adorning the door, and smiled to myself that I had fallen in love with a gay-friendly establishment. It made my liberal hippie self pleased. I decided to go with the traditional fish & chips, which came with a side of Mushy Peas. Perhaps I don't get out much, but I had never, ever heard of Mushy Peas. The dish is almost akin to mashed potatoes, where peas are cooked until they are (you guessed it!) mushy. They are mashed a bit, and some more, less cooked, whole peas are mixed in with the mush, and you have Mushy Peas. Although I was afraid of the dish, I tried it with an open mind. The taste was actually quite good. The texture, however, almost made me vomit on the spot. I had been a bit concerned when I saw the food, as I have a real issue with food textures - cottage cheese, humus, grits - most things with a gloppy texture turn my stomach, regardless of the taste. It's unfortunate, because the taste of the peas was quite delicious. I stomached two bites, gave up, doused my fish and chips in malt vinegar, and enjoyed the rest of my meal. The Brits definitely know how to fry fish - it was perfect, to be quite honest. The batter was just right, and the fish was light and flaky.

Chris also took me to an Indian restaurant one night for dinner. It was incredible. He told me in his polite British way that you know Indian food is good when it's hot going in, but not coming out. And the food we had was quite good, thank heavens! I would've taken pictures, but explaining to Chris that I was taking pictures of my food to later blog about it in dedication to my friend, whose Indian (Native, mind you) name is Runs With Spatula, was more than I could expect anyone to take in having known me for only two days. I don't think I could pronounce the name of a single dish I ordered, which is pathetic. We had an appetizer of Tandoori Chicken (okay, I could pronounce that...), whose colors were amazing. The taste was incredible - sweet, spicy and hot all at the same time. I also had a deep-fried onion thing that looked like it belonged on a Dim Sum menu - it looked like a nest of onion rings, with batter seasoned with saffron. I dipped it in mango chutney, and wished I could move that amazing little restaurant to Lansing. Chris had warned me about entrees, and told me that hot Indian was equivalent to or hotter than hot Thai, so I stuck with a dish ranked medium. It was chicken in some kind of tomato and chili sauce, with a hint of sweetness. Chris was daring, and ordered something from the hot section of the menu, and was noticeably sweating by the end of his meal. I tried a bite of his with a bit of na'an bread, and knew had I ordered the same thing, I would have been sweating and blowing my nose after three or four bites. All in all, it was my favorite dining experience of the trip.

On Sunday, as I walked around Chester, I went past the racetrack, where

Family Fun Day was being held. In the center of the track, there was a carnival, complete with rides and food vendors. I snapped a shot of this through the gates outside the track - it's hard to see, but there was an entire cart of Bacon products - it's the cart in the middle, which red writing. That alone almost got me to purchase a ticket to the races, but having just had fish & chips at the Blue Moon Cafe made it a bit easier to resist.

My final food adventure to blog about was at a little milkshake place in downtown Chester. I popped in, as I had been craving ice cream all day. I ordered a mint chocolate chip milkshake, and the young people working there immediately asked about my accent. We chatted for a while, and they asked if accents varied state by state. I commented it was more regional, and they immediately went into imitating our Southern accents. There's just nothing funnier than a couple of Brits imitating our neighbors to the South by saying, "I'm a gonna grab me my shotgun and rustle up some dinner," all with their quaint, aristocratic accent peppered with a redneck flair. And the sentence they came up with made me think they truly had a good understanding of the Deep South!

England: The Flights

I booked my flights through US Airways, simply because they had the least expensive fares. My original plan (or at least the one my company had for me) was to fly out on Monday and return on Friday. When I was checking prices, I was happy to find that if I flew back Friday, it would cost $2,500 more than if I stayed through the weekend. And the prices only increased for Saturday or Sunday travel. My bosses all seemed perfectly happy to let me stay the weekend, and I was excited to add some sight-seeing to my agenda.

On Sunday, the day before I was scheduled to leave, I received a call from US Airways. My plan had been to fly from Detroit to Philadelphia to Manchester. They had overbooked the flight from Philadelphia to Manchester (shock!), and were wondering if I would add a connection in London and take a bump on my flight out of Detroit. This would be done in exchange for flying Business Class on the long haul to London's Gatwick Airport. Seriously? First Class instead of coach for a seven-hour flight? All to arrive later in the day on Tuesday, thus inconveniencing my colleague less? Twist my arm, US Airways, just a little bit more! I should've asked for Business Class on the way back, too - lesson learned.

The three flights to get to Manchester were uneventful. The long haul to London was great - after 3 glasses of red wine and a dinner of Mahi-Mahi, I snuggled up with a blanket, reclined my seat all the way back with no fear of irritating the person behind me, and promptly fell asleep while listening to the Saw Doctors. I woke just as we were preparing to land. I've had a few people ask why I didn't booze it up on the flight since the drinks were free. And I realized I've grown up a bit as sleep seemed like the better option when compared to a hang-over.

The two flights back to Detroit weren't quite as pleasant. I arrived at the Manchester airport on time, which was 8:00 am Monday morning (3:00 am for my Eastern time zone friends). The flight left on time, and arrived in Philadelphia 30 minutes early, which all sounds wonderful. But when that scenario is paired with being crammed in a coach seat, with a shrieking child behind me, who didn't seem inclined to either sleep or stop shrieking (and it was a shriek, not a scream or a cry - I don't have kids, but I do know the difference), and with a very nice, yet sleepy, Irishman in front of me who did seem inclined to recline his seat as far as possible for the entire trip, it made for a long, uncomfortable seven hours. I plugged away at reading a book I started a few months ago (Reading Lolita in Tehran), listened to some music, and finally gave in to the temptation in front of me - the in-flight entertainment. I watched the movie 21 (entertaining, but not something I would watch twice), and episode of The Office (directed by an author I have enjoyed - Paul Feig, who also created Freaks and Geeks, a show that should've been on the air much longer than it was), and an episode of Ugly Betty. The entertainment kept me sufficiently distracted until we landed.

Philly was an atrocious experience. It's a horrible airport. The TSA workers in particular were rude, especially to foreign visitors. You would think (or at least I would) that when greeting passengers from an international flight that the TSA workers would assume that some of the travelers may not speak English. Instead of using either a different language (I know, we're in the US, so certainly everyone should only speak English, right?!? What a welcoming attitude...) or maybe some nonverbal communication, they just spoke much louder and more insistently, in a very unpleasant way. That aside, after I got off the plane, I made my way to the baggage claim, successfully found my suitcase, and went through immigration and customs without a problem. I was then herded into a line to re-check my suitcase for the impending flight from Philly to Detroit. I handed over my luggage, and was assured it would meet me in Detroit. After all, what could happen between Philly and Detroit?

I made my way to the F terminal, and stopped to pick up a few souvenirs. My boss made me promise to pick up a coffee mug for him from my trip. Certainly, he was implying that it should be from England, but they just don't have tchochke shops like we do, and even in the Manchester airport, I couldn't find anything remotely cheesy enough for my boss. So, a Philly coffee mug is now waiting to be delivered to him. I also bought myself a magnet. If you've seen my fridge, you'd understand - there's magnets from many great places plastered all over my fridge. See the picture below - it's quite a bit of irony, really.

I stopped for a bite to eat, called, mom, and made my way to F-7, where my flight 3774 was to depart. I watched as the posted departure time changed from 5:50 to 6:10, and thought, "No big deal - 20 more minutes..." Please feel free to take a moment to savor the foreshadowing. Around 5:15, 50 people crowded the F-7 terminal. The story went a little like this:

-The flight before mine left (3775), then turned around when the captain noted they were flying with only one engine and were suffering other mechanical difficulties.

-The passengers of 3775 were sent to F-7.

-We were all sent down to F-39.

-We were all sent back to F-7.

-My flight (3774) was sent back to F-39.

-We got on the plane, and went to taxi at the runway.

-We stopped, and were informed we were fifteenth in line to take off, which should take about 20 minutes. Uh, yeah, right...I was thinking a half-hour at least. This made it around 6:35.

-At 7, we were informed the captain was killing the engines, as there was "horrible" weather in Detroit and we couldn't take off until Metro gave the okay. I promptly called my mom, who reported blue skies and lots of sunshine. Fuck.

-At 7:40, or nearly and hour and a half of sitting on the tarmac, we finally took off, and had a nice, choppy landing at 9:00.

-I once again made my way to baggage claim, where I patiently waited for my luggage. I watch the carousel with baited breath, until I heard the noise nobody wants to hear - "BUZZ!!" The carousel stopped, and I stood there, shocked that my suitcase hadn't made it from Philly to Detroit, a non-stop flight. I shouldn't have been surprised.

-I stormed into the baggage office, and was promptly asked to wait outside while two workers attempted to help one customer (WTF?).

-A lady stepped out and asked if I was next in line. I responded, "I don't know - did you kick anyone out of the office before me?" Give me a break - I had been awake for 20+ hours at that point. I filed my lost baggage claim and wandered outside to find mom and dad, who were on their way to pick me up.

-I found mom and dad, who had graciously packed a sandwich and a diet coke for me for the ride home. I showed them my pictures, filled them in on the trip, and made my way back to Lansing, arriving shortly before midnight. It was a long day.

My luggage was finally delivered the next day at 7 in the evening.

And here is the magnet, gracing my fridge:

I'm Back From England, Yo!

Without luggage. Fuck.

The flights out were great (say yeay! to business class on the long haul - more to come on that!)...my visits to the plants were interesting and informative and productive...my time in Chester was very cool...the flights back were uncomfortable (say boo! to coach on the long haul!)...and the Philly airport pretty much blows (more to come on that, too!).

I got back to Lansing shortly before midnight, rifled through some email to make work more bearable today, watered my very sad flowers, and curled up on my couch, which I could tell had been missing me something awful.

I'm sure I'll blog more about the trip over the next coming week as I adjust back to Michigan time. And yes, Jaimie, I'll include pictures!

It's so good to be home :)