Scotland 2007, Day 1, LA-Philly-Glasgow

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It only took 3 years, but I am "publishing" the Scotland Log! Due to strong language, it shall be rated "R". Also, there is soooooo much editing that needs done, but I don't have the time. Most of these journal entries were written late at night and I was exhausted. That, and I drink quite heavily.

Enjoy!

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Friday, July 27th- Los Angeles to Philadelphia to Glasgow (oh my!)

3am- Dave takes me the airport. Plane doesn’t leave ‘til 10:20am but the thought of being stuck on the 405 in Friday morning rush hour traffic does not agree with my IBS.

5am- US Airways ticket line opens and I can stand in line for tickets. Get to the counter and we put my one suitcase up on the scale to be checked and it’s 78 pounds. The guy mentions a hefty price, or, since I’m allowed to check two, he can find a box for me to put my stuff in. I say a box would be great. As he wanders off to find that, I’m staring at my traitorous suitcase wondering what the fuck I had in there. I put the boots back (something I’ve regretted already), all the books are in my carry on (call me Rory Gilmore), and my vibrator can’t weigh more than 10 pounds. As I stare at the scale, it flickers and drops to 37.8 pounds. Holy shit, I’m Samantha! Can’t twitch my nose but maybe that’s the power of my middle finger. Guy returns and I point out the numbers. He is baffled too. Hands me my ticket and says the plane will start boarding at 10:40am. 10:40am? It is suppose to take off at 10:20am! He checks the itinerary and, nope, it says it’s suppose to leave at 11:10am. Ok, fine, I’ll just sleep thru it anyway. Go to stand in line to get to the security check point, and I’m told I’m not in line- that starts forming out the door. For any of you who know LAX, picture this, the line does the zig zag shit that Disneyland is so fond of and then it shoots outside where the first sign for US Airways is. I find the end of the line PAST the last US Airways sign- we’re standing on some sidewalk that has yet to be claimed by an airline (guess they didn’t have a flag).

5:45am- Airport security check point. Since the guy ahead of me decided to pack his scuba gear in his carry on, this takes some time.

6:00am- Find the gate I’ll be leaving out of and sleep curled in a chair. The only problem is that my pant legs keep ridding up and my “I heart Jesus” socks keep showing. I seem to pick the best time to wears those damn things (#1 time being at the gynecologist office with those bad boys in the stirrups- didn’t really heart Jesus at that point- nor the picture of the cute little kittens and sunflowers pinned to the ceiling).

10:40am- we board. As I’m at the end of the terminal, about 6 people away from being able to walk onto the plane, I ask the flight attendant if this is where I leave my carry on to be checked. She is about to answer but one of the airport hands looks at me and says “Well, yeah, but that might not be possible”. I’m surprised and say that it’s not a problem, I’ll take it with me and find space somewhere. He replies that I can leave it, and he’ll do what he can. I told him that a middle answer isn’t making me comfortable so I’ll take it. He says leave it and even though it’ll cause some problems, it will be stored. At this point I grab the handle of my suitcase (surprisingly I’m nice thru out this (on the outside at least)- bless yellow pills) and start to take it into the plane. The guy goes “Hey, listen to me” and then stares at me. I say I’d love to listen to him but he is swinging between two answers. At this point, the flight attendant takes my bag from me and says that it will be taken care of. Dude was a douche.

11:10am- plane leaves the terminal, but we proceed to tour LAX for the next hour due to some vague reason. We finally take off and I pop three pills. Unfortunately they don’t kick in fast enough and my eyes keep flitting to the tv/movie screen where “Firehouse Dog” is playing. The Indians (dot, not feather) next to me laugh constantly- when they aren’t slurping their tomato juice that is.

7:30pm- (Eastern- skipped ahead 3 hours there), I wake up to find that we’re approaching Philly.

7:50pm- we finally get to the gate and my plane to Scotland (that mom and John will be on) takes off at 8:20pm. So, despite my ethics, I start running and, of course, it’s the farthest terminal because God still remembers that time I slugged Shawna at Bible Camp. As I run, I call my mom and instantly start talking a mile a minute, in between gasps, telling her not to let the plane leave that I’m on my way. She finally yells for me to stop talking (one of the few people on Earth who can do that) and says “Don’t get upset, but…” Why the hell do people start a sentence like that? I hate that sentence almost as much as the smell of mothballs. The news I wasn’t to get upset about is the fact that she and John are stuck in Buffalo and won’t be flying out until Saturday night which means they’ll get in Sunday morning. They were supposed to leave Rochester, but that flight was canceled. So, US Airways (we hates them) paid for a taxi to take them to Buffalo for another outgoing Philly flight. By the time they got there, that flight had been canceled too. So instead of just going back to the house for one night and try again tomorrow (which is what would have happened if they stayed at the Rochester Airport), they are stuck in a hotel room in Buffalo- the most exciting city in the world. Good wings though.

8:10pm- I get on the plane and find my seat and collapse gasping and sweating. Good thing I got rid of that personal trainer, eh? I’m still on the phone with mom and we’re trying to figure out what to do about me. She has all the paperwork showing that we’re part of the group and it tells us where to go at the airport to find our guide, etc. So, I’ll be showing up with my name and passport and no confirmation papers- here’s hoping that’s enough. I get settled and I’m ready to leave, but, a wedding party on board is missing the mother of the bride whose plane leaving Dallas got delayed- good to see US Airways sucks in every state. So, the plane is waiting for her. I honestly don’t care at this point and I’m actually rooting for them- someone should be able to fly with their family. The mom shows up at 9pm and we all applaud and we begin to go where no US Airways plane has gone before- onto the tarmac. At this point, I pop 4 more pills and go into a coma (no, not really.)

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Photos

Not taken on Day 1, but a good "first picture"
Mom, John & I at Hadrians Wall (Cumbria- English/Scottish border)