It has been an obscenely crazy past couple of weeks of travel for yours truly. To give you a taste of my jet-setting lifestyle (in coach, of course), here's my recent itinerary...
Mon, Feb 5 - Boston
Tues, Feb 6 - DC
Wed, Feb 7 - Phoenix
Thurs, Feb 8 - Phoenix
Fri, Feb 9 - Mon, Feb 12 - DC
Tues, Feb 13 - Boston
Wed, Feb 14 - Boston
Thurs, Feb 15 - DC
Fri, Feb 16 - Mon, Feb 19 - London
Tues, Feb 20 - DC
If an airline offered me a free ticket right now, I think I might run screaming in the other direction and join a cult that believed that flying in airplanes was akin to worshiping false idols. Through all of my travels, I have divined a few basic truths:
(1) Staring is not considered a rude and shameless activity in Britain. Perhaps it's all the exposure to trashy, gossipy newspapers, or the fact that lesbians are considered rare and endangered birds in London, but every time I went out and about on the town, there were no end of eye pairs taking a long gander. Until, of course, I gandered back. Evidently, Britains are voyeurs, but not confrontationalists.
(2) Cleanliness it not next to godliness, but the Intercontinental Hotel in Boston might be. I mean, who wouldn't love a large, garden-style tub (big enough to actually fit this amazon without forcing her knees up to her ears) set in a bathroom with a cut-out in the wall, which affords the bather with the opportunity to watch the 40-inch flat-screen TV from the comfort of her own watery heaven?
(3) My argyle scarf evidently pegs me as the kind of international nuisance that needs to be given the full pat down twice at Heathrow airport (which is amusing to me, as my general demeanor has never occasioned American security to give me the looky-loo). Those with an interest in international airport security will be happy to know that the security guards in Britain were more than happy to pat down my legs, breast, and hoo-ha looking for my super-secret weapon of preppy destruction! I suppose it would have been a better experience if the people taking an interest in my nether regions were actually attractive, but alas, no. No strip search fantasies fulfilled that day, I'm afraid.
(4) If one must make a connection when coming back from a foreign country, one should allot at least two hours for such shenanigans. Else, you might end up sprinting through JFK in the late hours of the night, huffing and puffing in a most un-ladylike manner. Unless that's, like, you know, your thing.
(5) England may be suspicious of me and my argyle, but U.S. Customs loves me. On my last return trip from England, the Customs man noted that I has the most thorough customs form that he ever did see. This time around, a different Customs man remarked on my good penmanship. Next time around, I'm going to ask if there are any awards for these sorts of things. I can put them up next to my perfect attendance awards from high school. What better way to attract a mate, I ask you?
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