En Route to London (June 27, 2006)

This blog is coming to you from high above the ocean on a transatlantic flight to London.

Ah, the joys of flying coach on an international flight. I know some of you fight on my side in the eternal struggle of sleep vs. flight. For some reason, I just can’t seem to reconcile the two. Well, at least not without an eyemask and earplugs - and guess what I forgot to bring with me.

Yet, even with the handy-dandy mask and plugs, I still have a rough time. Maybe it’s the people moving around me. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s 2AM Pittsburgh time, but it’s morning and light outside. Maybe it’s the loud talkers behind me, the children in front of me, and the flight attendants walking around me (an aisle seat, oh how lovely!). Maybe it’s the fact that I’m sitting up very close to upright in anuncomfortable chair and “Big Momma’s House 2” as the creme-de-la-creme film choice of the evening, I mean morning, I mean - what time of day would you call this? There must be some sniglet that fits the bill.

Anyway, I ask - no I implore - Sleep where are you? Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a Hilton king-sized bed in coach.

P.S. I’m also trying not to think about how many people have farted in this seat, and to what degrees, but how can you not?