To England Where My Heart Lies: Part 1- The Norwegian Marionette

Here is a live commentary on my trip across the ocean. I mean, it's not live now, obviously, but I was writing it all down as it was happening. So.

September 17th

10:45am

Here I am looking like the most average of all the baes as I pose with my suitcase before departing from Cincinnati. My mascara was probably already running at this point, because I have zero qualms about public weeping, and saying goodbye to my parents was the worst. The most terrible part of saying goodbye is not the hugs or the tears, it's by far the moment when you have to stop hugging them and walk away. Everyone please take a moment to appreciate that my mother did this with her family for 15 years during her missionary days. Ugh. Leave me here to drown in my feelings.

On Board Plane 1-Cincinnati to Charlotte

12:00pm

I got a window seat, because God is good. Also,

I LOVE PLANES.

I LOVE TAKEOFF.

I LOVE TURBULENCE. IT'S LIKE A ROLLER COASTER BUT THE STAKES ARE HIGHER.

CLOUDS.

I am actually flying through sky marshmallows right now. I forgot how exciting clouds are. I bet God spent the first 6,000 years of earth's history thinking, "I can't wait 'till they get to the part where they invent planes, so they can get an up close view of the puff-puffs I made for them." I was intending to read on my kindle during the flight, but I ended up spending the entire time looking out the window because there are TINY TREES AND TINY ROADS AND TINY RIVERS AND I THINK I SAW PERFECT NORTH DOWN THERE BUT IT COULD HAVE JUST BEEN A SLAG HEAP IDK BUT IT WAS WHITE.

You'd think I'd never flown before, the amount of excitement all this caused.

1:20pm

Someone in my vicinity is farting and I think I'm going to die.

On Board Plane 2-Charlotte to Boston

1:50pm

Groans of despair and anger heard from all over the plane as people are told that we are not taking off yet after all, and they get an extra hour and 45 minutes to sit down. The lady next to me is, "so furious she could scream". She also has a super strong Boston accent, which I'm almost certain she only developed after becoming angry. Everyone is acting incredibly put out. For goodness sake, people. In the words of Kourtney Kardashian, "Kim, there's people that are dying."

5:45pm

Since breakfast (3/4 of a piece of cinnamon toast) I have only eaten pretzels and something claiming to be a cookie, so when I arrived in Boston I was so hungry that I felt ill. I had a moment when I thought I was going to throw up in the airplane like some weakling who can't handle air travel, and I was furiously praying, "Dear Lord, please don't let me throw up in front of all these people."

Well, obviously He heard my prayer, because if I had thrown up in front of all those people, the only thing left to do would be to launch myself from the aircraft and get sucked out into open sky.

On Board Plane 3-Boston to London

We flew with a Norwegian airline, and all the flight attendants were dressed to the nines. The guys had on black blazers with thin white checks and the girls had on little black pillbox hats with red trim, and black blazers and skirts.

8:30pm

We are sitting on the very front row of Economy, which is sort of fun because:

1. Unlimited leg room

2. No crawling over each other when we have to go to the bathroom

3. It feels like we're sitting in the front of a roller coaster car.

4. This is as close as I ever have been, or ever will be, to first class. I can actually see the fancy seats. I can smell the money lining the billfolds of the rich. I can hear cherubs playing harps.

However, it's made less fun by:

1. The fact that the Air Steward's seat is directly across from us, facing us.

2. He is sitting there right now because we are taking off.

3. He is sitting perfectly still, looking straight ahead.

4. All the lights are off.

5. He is wearing black leather gloves for no discernible reason.

6. He looks like a creepy marionette.

Also, we are right next to the door, so if anything goes wrong, we are responsible for everyone's lives. But just now I'm more worried about avoiding eye contact with Marionette Man.

Here's a sneaky photo Corrie took of him later. (I know what you're going to say, but no, he wasn't actually as cute as he looks in this picture.)

8:45pm

Much like in the ancient Jewish tabernacle, (says Corrie) there is a curtain separating the first class from us rabble. They have just closed it, so the bourgeoisie do not have to be disturbed by the longing stares of the street rats.

9:00pm

The lady behind me just asked me to quiet down because I was telling a VERY INTERESTING story about my life, and apparently I got a little over excited. So instead of using this excellent opportunity to eavesdrop on the juicy details of a stranger's personal business, she decided to try to tell me how to live my life. She shall be the first to be sent to the gulag when I rule the world.

9:15pm

For dinner, us peasants in economy got to choose between mediocre chicken ravioli or a mediocre beef fajita. I didn't realize that the phrase "beef fajita" in an English accent is my favorite thing until the stewardess asked me if I wanted one. I did not, I got the ravioli. It came with a weird side salad/quinoa thing that I didn't bother wasting stomach room on, and a tiny coffee flavored cake in a pot, which is the most delightful thing I have ever eaten. But I know them hoes up there in first class are dining on meals with titles that include, "balsamic reduction" and "saffron infused", so don't try to assuage me with pot cake.

1am? 4am? Gap in the space-time continuum?

We are now flying above the Atlantic, so time has no meaning, I guess. I have given up trying to sleep. Have you read Matilda? Remember the Chokey, where Ms. Trunchbull locked up naughty children? Well trying to get comfortable on an airplane is like trying to get comfortable in the Chokey. Except, of course, in first class, where the seats recline all the way into bed form and you don't have to pay for blankets and pillows and fairies and angels sing. Or so I am told. I can't see for the dang curtain.

Another reason that it's impossible to sleep on airplanes is that it's freezing on planes. The flight monitoring screen in front of me says it is -54 degrees outside the aircraft, but I think that's probably the inside temperature too. If we die in a plane crash I hope it's a fiery one, because at least I'd be warmed up.

I think I dozed off once, but some dingus came stumbling back from the bathroom and bumped into my knee. I woke up with a start and have not been able to fall asleep again. The dingus shall be the second to be sent to the gulag.

6:29 am(If we are going by England time)

I want to sleep but can't. I just have to sit her and wait for:

A. Our arrival in England

B. Death to come

Luckily, our arrival came first. It is glorious to be back in England.

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