www.inkthinkerblog.com — It seems that travel is somehow always an event for me.
When I went to Colorado to look at houses before we aborted our move attempt, I missed my flight and had TSA throw out hundreds of dollars of cosmetics because for some reason our stupid airline wouldn’t let me check my bag. After I got to the gate and discovered that the plane was already taxiing down the runway, I went back to the security checkpoint and cried until they let me dig through the trash and get my stuff back. I was then escorted to the ticket counter by a uniformed officer to check my bag for the next flight…9 hours later. Good times.
When I went to Chicago for SOBCon08 in May, getting to Chi-town wasn’t a big deal, but I thought I was going to die on the way to my hotel in the care of “Larry,” my loquacious SuperShuttle driver who, lucky for me, timed it so I was the last person out of the van. I later learned that he had dropped several others off within seconds of my hotel, driven ALL the way across town, and then doubled back to drop me off. Still not sure if he forgot me or planned it, but I’m just glad that’s over with.
On the way BACK from Chicago, I had another fun SuperShuttle experience when I face-planted while climbing into the van from my hotel after waiting for them for a good 40 minutes later than their scheduled pick-up time.
“Oh my God,” exclaimed the man in the seat closest to the door. “Are you okay? I’m a doctor.”
“I’m fine,” I replied, “and I’m a ballerina.”
No one laughed.
“I’m not really a ballerina,” I assured the packed van.
Still no one laughed.
“I’m really a doctor,” the man offered.
When I asked him later what kind of medicine he practiced, he said, “I’m an anesthesiologist.” Um, yeah, last time I checked, not a doctor. Good thing I wasn’t actually hurt!
This time, I thought I had plenty of time to get to the airport. I didn’t have anything due today, just some little projects to take care of, some laundry to start before leaving the house, that kind of thing. And, around 1, I GoogleMapped the route to the airport to make sure I knew what I was doing…and realized that I should have already left the house. For some reason, my husband and I calculated 2 p.m. as my ETD, when it really should have been 1. I made it to my gate 15 minutes before boarding. Color me panicked!
Good times en el aeropuerto. At the recommendation of the BlogHer pre-conference guide, I brought my Nalgene bottle with me rather than purchasing bottled water in the airport as I ordinarily would. (I know, I know, shame on me.) So I went up to the security guard before proceeding to the security checkpoint and said, holding up my bottle, “I need to dump this so I can go through security. Is there a bathroom or water fountain nearby or do I just use the trash can?”
“You can’t bring water through,” she responded.
“I know,” I said, “that’s what I’m saying. Where can I dump this out?”
“You have to dump that out. You can’t bring water through.”
“I know. Where is the bathroom?”
Finally a passerby pointed me in the right direction.
As I type this, I’m on Virgin America Flight 462 over the southeastern corner of Colorado headed toward New Mexico. If you were following my tweets today, you know I’m in the middle seat between two large (and I mean LARGE) men, in the second-to-last row of the airplane. They’re both nice, though, and the one on the left kind of looks like Chris Brogan, which is a fun coincidence considering that I’m going to a blogging conference. My altitude is 34,161 feet and the outside temperature is -40 degrees Fahrenheit. We’re traveling at 534 mph, and now we’re pointing due West, with just 989 miles to go.
I find myself feeling impatient and maybe a little anxious, though in the scheme of things, despite having a panicked drive to the airport during which I hit every red light and was convinced I would miss my flight, this trip has gone fairly seamlessly. Part of it probably stems from the fact that the people on my flight seem to have seatbelt-light blindness. Dude, if you want to endanger yourself, go for it. But please do not endanger ME by becoming a flying projectile. Sit your butt down and wait until Captain Lee turns off the light. Seriously. These seats are comfy and we have 24 free channels to watch. You can suck it up for a few minutes if it means not knocking yourself unconscious on the handy overhead compartment as a burst of turbulence sends you flying down the aisle.
Looking forward to the newbie cocktail party at the hotel tonight tonight, though not really sure what to wear. I’m thinking that my Thao tee shirt and ratty airplane jeans are probably not quite the impression I want to make, but who knows. With everyone else coming in today also, I may be the best-dressed one in the room.
More before bed tonight… I’ve got the room to myself since my roomie, Dana “Mamalogues” Loesch, won’t be rolling in until tomorrow morning. Here’s hoping I can get up on time without her there!
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An anesthesiologist is a medical doctor.
Hi, Kristen! Just so you know, an anaesthesiologist is an MD, and one of the highest paying ones at that, so definitely a full-fledged doctor. You might be thinking of an anesthesia technician.
Cheers,
Marjorie
Marjorie’s last blog post..Help a Reporter Out
Ack, I meant to add that anesthesiologists have one of the most difficult, high-stress jobs in the medical field, as they are tasked with keeping vital signs stable during any surgery, a delicate procedure that’s both a skill and an art and which can mean the difference b/w a successful recovery and a botched, even fatal one. They work with the patient both before, during and after surgery and is an essential part of the surgical team.
Cheers,
Marjorie
Marjorie’s last blog post..Help a Reporter Out
“Um, yeah, last time I checked, not a doctor.”
You’re checking lousy sources.
man, if I had THOSE experiences, I’d stay home. Poor thing:(
anesthesiologist – definitely a medical doctor, in fact a highly trained specialist…last time I checked.
I laughed so hard I was crying at the ballerina response. You’re so fun.
Chris Brogan…’s last blog post..My Newsletter is Different From My Blog