Today I am in Lexington, Kentucky. I’ve finally got that straight, after thinking it was Lexington, Virginia, for the longest time, for some reason. But yes. I am in Kentucky, home of the horses treated like kings.
I actually packed most of the stuff I needed to bring last night, unlike my usual packing methods – I always say that I pack like a felon on the run. I was under a bit more control than that, for once. So far, there’s nothing that I think I’ve forgotten. Of course, I haven’t’ opened up my suitcase to check quite yet. I’m putting that off, because I hate the ironing that I’m sure will result from my seeing the clothes. I tried yet another packing method this time - I laid everything out flat, then folded them around all the bulky stuff in the middle. I’ve been told that this should work in keeping the clothes wrinkle free. We’ll see.
I left work before lunch, and headed to the Park and Fly, then got the shuttle over to Terminal 3. I always find it odd that you ‘technically’ enter US territory while still in the Toronto airport. I’m never sure what kind of money I need after the security gates. It’s odd – you can feel the change as soon as you’re into the US areas. I don’t know that I can define it, but you know that things are a bit different. You’re more likely to run into people speaking Spanish, for one, but there’s a lot more to the vibe than that. I’ll have to examine it more closely another time.
Anyway, I’m glad that I left plenty of time, because (as usual) I had to trek all the way across the airport, then get on a shuttle bus to another concourse area before I found my gate. I got myself all set up – blanket ready to be frogged, mp3 player (no, no iPod for cheapKirstie) all untangled and at the ready. Turned it on – battery’s just about dead. So we’ll frog and people watch. Which was a very good choice, as a quite delectable fellow in very nice jeans settled in front of me. I enjoyed the eye candy as a sweet change from the worn carpet and stale baked goods that were the only other things to look at. He appeared to be somewhat confused by my reverse-knitting, but didn’t ask – probably scared of the crazy. I understand. A girl sitting near me asked me to watch her stuff while she ran to the bathroom. After about half an hour, I started to worry about her. Then I started to worry that she had left something scary in her bags and hightailed it out of there, and wondered if I should tell someone, all the time remembering the Lost flashback where Shannon gets Sayid grabbed for the same thing (what? You all know I watch too much tv). Anyway, she eventually did come back. I finished my yarn winding/unwinding, and then asked her to watch my stuff while I ran off (my flight was boarding soon by this time – thanks bathroom girl) to find someone willing to sell me two batteries for only seven dollars.
I re-started the blanket on the flight. I looked so awkward with my shiny, metal needles and the connecting cable that as soon as he could, the guy next to me moved off to another seat. Heh.
Then it was the flight to Cincinnati, where I thought I was cutting it close for my connection, but it turns out that I just can’t read a watch. So I had almost another hour of quality time with my circulars. When I got on the flight to Lexington, I was a bit taken aback by the sight of the person sitting one row ahead of me – the uber boss of my division, going to the same place I was. It turned out to be a good thing – we all caught the hotel shuttle (there was one other person on the flight who’s at the meeting, too) together and then we walked down to the restaurant where the rest of the group was already eating. Oh, and stupid hotel people told us it was about a two block walk to the restaurant – turned out to be about nine.
Speaking of hotel people. So, we check in, and agree to just drop our bags in our room and head back out. I walk into my room, and find this:
Okay... I make a quick bathroom break, then head out. I run into a maid cleaning the next room over. Here’s our conversation.
Me: Um. Hi. The furniture in my room is all stacked up on top of one another.
Her: Oh? Were they cleaning the rugs?
Me: Uh. Yeah, maybe. I don’t really know. But the furniture is all piled up right now.
Her: Oh – do you want help taking it all down?
Me: Well, actually, I have to head out right now. I guess I can take it down when I get back…
Her: Okay then.
Yeah. But the furniture was all laid out when I got back, so I guess she took care of it after all.
But one thing that really ticked me off? The internet’s not included with the room! Argh! That’s the only reason that I brought the laptop – not for my health (and it can be a bit of a workout lugging that through several terminals and hoisting it up into overhead bins) and not to do work (please). I checked the website before I left, and it mentioned wireless internet as a room amenity. Silly me. I thought you didn’t have to pay for things when they are considered ‘room amenities’. What next? You going to charge me to use the blow dryer?
I could pay for the 24 hours of access, but I don’t think I can justify it even to myself - $10 for essentially one hour? Because I’d use it tonight, but wouldn’t really have time tomorrow night, because we’re not even heading out to dinner until 7 or so, and things started up the next morning again at 7:30.
So this entry will sit lonely and isolated, in a word document until I return to civilisation.
1 comment:
Clearly, what you walked in on in your hotel room was a furniture orgy. They froze when you came in, and then when you left, they finished their business and went back to their furniturely duties. You know, just sitting there.
Boo to no internet! Word to the weird feeling when you go through U.S. Customs--though I've flown to the UK through terminal 3, and there was no weird feeling, despite being in the same gate area. Hm. It's gotta be the customs dudes.
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