Letters From Houston
Mar. 25th, 2008 12:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gracedpalmerThe last day of the trip is the right time to blog the first day, right? Sadly, I'm afraid it's not because it's been one long run of fast paced adventure that I haven't written. I'm just very lazy. Also, I had one of the worst air travel experiences to date.
As my sleep schedule had been getting later and later (a side effect of having sun hating cave dwellers as roomies ;) ), I decided to stay up all night for my 6 am flight. The plane got out of champaign easily enough, but the ride was quite bumpy. We got into Dallas a bit late, only to find that our flight to Houston had been cancelled, they weren't letting us onto the other (full) flight to Houston, and all the other flights that would eventually get to Houston probably weren't going to make it. I spent a number of hours attempting to get to Houston by various means anyway, only to have the flight canceled. It rains a lot in Texas. It should be noted at this time that I was without a credit card (as the new one hadn't arrived in time) and that my cel phone was out of minutes, so I'd left it at home. Except, of course, that I didn't have my pickup's phone number on me the way I thought I did.
Many frantic phone calls later, I got hold of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moments_away on the telephone, sent him to my side of the house and got him to read my pickup's number off my phone. About this time, I'd been helpfully scheduled onto a plane that was flying from Continental, in another terminal. When I reached that terminal, that flight was nonexistent - had in fact been canceled for hours and hours. This was the only terminal from which one could not walk to the others. As I prepared to go back and be cranky at an American agent, lightning struck the control box of the automated between terminals train, which stopped doing much of anything. Thankfully, I was on the outside of it. A lovely woman who I spent a lot of time rambling through the airport with loaned me her cel to call my ride and explain the situation or lack thereof. Eventually, I went back out through security and took the interterminal bus, because the train still wasn't going anywhere.
A conversation with an American employee, which started out pleasant and ended very unpleasantly, told me that they were going to put me on a flight that left at 7:30 the next morning, but which probably wouldn't actually leave. Also, they could care less about the inconvenience, where I ended up, etc. So, to prevent my having to crash in the airport (hotels were all full, and you can't get a hotel room with sixty bucks and a checkbook anyhow), my ride and roommate drove up from Houston (4-5) hours and got me. For which I shall be eternally grateful.
Since then, I've been fairly boring. I've done a bit of sewing, and am close to finished on a major project. I've written a lot of articles about snow cleats. I've watched a lot of Mythbusters (as this is the current obsession down here), and discovered that I have a competence fetish. There are a number of reasonably cute women on this show, which was a matter of no real importance. However, there's apparently nothing better than a cute girl who can use a bandsaw. Once I realized this, I started going over my crushes of previous years. Apparently attractive is one thing, and can turn my head. But nothing makes me go weak at the knees like someone who's really good at something. Mind you, it helps if I like the thing that they're good at, and have the ability to recognize skill in it. But mm, competence.
In other news, I've ripped apart an old skirt, which shall become an apron. It wasn't fitting well, and I need something to keep flour, paint, and wood shavings off of me. Also, when I'm in Houston, the computer sends me many Texas related ads. It does not, however, do the equivalent when I'm in Illinois or Wisconsin.
Anyhow, enough procrastinating. Ice cleats are done, and now it's time to write about snowshoes.
As my sleep schedule had been getting later and later (a side effect of having sun hating cave dwellers as roomies ;) ), I decided to stay up all night for my 6 am flight. The plane got out of champaign easily enough, but the ride was quite bumpy. We got into Dallas a bit late, only to find that our flight to Houston had been cancelled, they weren't letting us onto the other (full) flight to Houston, and all the other flights that would eventually get to Houston probably weren't going to make it. I spent a number of hours attempting to get to Houston by various means anyway, only to have the flight canceled. It rains a lot in Texas. It should be noted at this time that I was without a credit card (as the new one hadn't arrived in time) and that my cel phone was out of minutes, so I'd left it at home. Except, of course, that I didn't have my pickup's phone number on me the way I thought I did.
Many frantic phone calls later, I got hold of
moments_away on the telephone, sent him to my side of the house and got him to read my pickup's number off my phone. About this time, I'd been helpfully scheduled onto a plane that was flying from Continental, in another terminal. When I reached that terminal, that flight was nonexistent - had in fact been canceled for hours and hours. This was the only terminal from which one could not walk to the others. As I prepared to go back and be cranky at an American agent, lightning struck the control box of the automated between terminals train, which stopped doing much of anything. Thankfully, I was on the outside of it. A lovely woman who I spent a lot of time rambling through the airport with loaned me her cel to call my ride and explain the situation or lack thereof. Eventually, I went back out through security and took the interterminal bus, because the train still wasn't going anywhere.A conversation with an American employee, which started out pleasant and ended very unpleasantly, told me that they were going to put me on a flight that left at 7:30 the next morning, but which probably wouldn't actually leave. Also, they could care less about the inconvenience, where I ended up, etc. So, to prevent my having to crash in the airport (hotels were all full, and you can't get a hotel room with sixty bucks and a checkbook anyhow), my ride and roommate drove up from Houston (4-5) hours and got me. For which I shall be eternally grateful.
Since then, I've been fairly boring. I've done a bit of sewing, and am close to finished on a major project. I've written a lot of articles about snow cleats. I've watched a lot of Mythbusters (as this is the current obsession down here), and discovered that I have a competence fetish. There are a number of reasonably cute women on this show, which was a matter of no real importance. However, there's apparently nothing better than a cute girl who can use a bandsaw. Once I realized this, I started going over my crushes of previous years. Apparently attractive is one thing, and can turn my head. But nothing makes me go weak at the knees like someone who's really good at something. Mind you, it helps if I like the thing that they're good at, and have the ability to recognize skill in it. But mm, competence.
In other news, I've ripped apart an old skirt, which shall become an apron. It wasn't fitting well, and I need something to keep flour, paint, and wood shavings off of me. Also, when I'm in Houston, the computer sends me many Texas related ads. It does not, however, do the equivalent when I'm in Illinois or Wisconsin.
Anyhow, enough procrastinating. Ice cleats are done, and now it's time to write about snowshoes.
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