Rob and I returned from Italy on Saturday night. The flight was 9 1/2 hours, 4-5 of which I spent watching movies and 8 1/2 of which I spent eating.
Seriously, something happens to me on planes. It's like I suddenly don't trust that there will ever be food again, so anything that is put in front of me--anything--is devoured immediately. And since there is not a lot of food served on planes these days, I usually bring a large bag of my own and methodically consume the contents.
For this flight, I did a bit of both, and in case you are curious, let me tell you that mixing excessive amounts of airport food with excessive amounts of airplane food (especially when the airplane food is of the "fake Italian" variety) is a recipe for Disgusting. I felt like a hot air balloon when we got off the plane: very full, very warm, and as though I was carrying several people.
After one entire day of bemoaning the fact that we had to return to New York, I suddenly wanted very, very much to just go home. But Delta Airlines had other ideas. First they made us wait on the plane for 15 minutes after landing, because we had taxied as far away from the actual airport as possible and now we were waiting for the People Mover. Not to be confused with, you know, an airplane. Which also moves people.
We all slowly loaded onto the People Mover and then inexplicably waited for a while, despite some old ornery man with very milky eyes yelling from the back, "Let's GO!"
"I love that guy," Rob said. "I want to be just like him when I'm old."
The People Mover started up and waddled around the airport, we waited in several lines, cleared customs, stared at the unmoving baggage carousel, and eventually ended up in a cab. At which point we were told the Midtown Tunnel was closed. It then took 100 minutes to get to our door from JFK, a personal record.
Still, we were in pretty good moods. I mean, we'd just gotten back from Italy and all we had to do was go home and think about how fun the trip was (I'll get to that in future posts.*) I hadn't seen a mirror in many hours, but no matter. We walked into our lobby, and promptly ran into 2 neighbors and a doorman who were all super helpful in describing how tired I looked.
"I can see it around your eyes," one said, examining me as we rode up the elevator.
We got into the apartment, feeling like we had done some sort of Ironman, and were pleased to see that said neighbor, along with two others, had left us flowers, balloons, crackers, cheese, almonds and assorted cookies.
In an effort to fully appreciate this lovely gesture, I found the will to eat again.
*I do promise more Italy stories and, of course, photos. For now, here is one of us in Venice riding the Vaporetto, which basically does what a People Mover does, but is just so much cooler.
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