So, I’m sitting here at JFK airport in NY. Let me clarify, I’m sitting here on the floor. These fuckers really need to install more seats in the waiting areaï¿½??s. It only makes sense that if a Boeing 757 can hold more than 30 people, the waiting area should have more than 30 seats, as well. If Cressey were here, he’d have kicked me in the noodle by now for me to fix my posture. Fuck, the Hunchback of Notre Dame would laugh so hard he’d be rolling around on his turtle shell on the floor.
Anyway, this is the last time I’ll breathe the NY air for a little over four months. I’ll be getting on a plane in a little while to fly out to California, at which I’m spending a week with a friend I met this past summer on a liveaboard sailing/scuba diving trip. From there, I’m going to Pattaya beach, Thailand. There, I’m going to be spending 4 months working towards my SCUBA instructor certification. Why anyone would trust me with their life breathing underwater, I have no idea, but that’s their choice (read: problem.)
I’ve packed a shitton of bathing suits, T-shirts, a couple of pairs of shorts, some underwear, a tube of sunscreen, a camera and a pair of flip flops. My other suitcase has my SCUBA gear and a Giants Superbowl champions T-shirt as a gift for the friend I’m staying out there with.
Anyway, I’m going to be keeping a travel blog here on T-Nation just like Phill did when he went to Thailand. Unlike the one I’m going to show my mom, and a few of the prisses that live where I come from, this one will be a no bullshit blog. Hopefully I’ll end up doing some cool stuff while I’m there so that I’ll be able to report back here and not look like a massive tool.
Anyway, heres some background: I went to college for 3 semesters. Whether it was the college, or college in general, I hated it. I also happened to get my paws on TC’s book around the same time. Since, I’ve probably read the damn thing three or four times. I even have it in my backpack right now. I’m sure a lot of people here have read it, but if not, get it.
Basically, his “Let Go of the Rock” column is the reason I’m not sitting in class right now [browsing the SAMA forum on my laptop in the back row], but rather on a plane. I knew I could have stayed in college, held my breath for the next two and a half years, got my degree and gone to work in a jacket and tie for a few years, at which point I’d have probably gone insane. I chose not to, though. Thus, I’m on my way to a four and a half month vacation at which point I come back home with my insctructor cert. So, I’d like to thank him for showing me the light.
I’d also like to thank my mom, even though she’s not reading this [hopefully,] for allowing me to spend 4 months in a third world country doing what I love. I know she’s against the idea, but she’s as OK with it as she’s going to be. Also, for the sweet sterling silver celtic cross I’m currently wearing around my neck.
At the risk of sounding like a self righteous, holier-than-thou, “I’m kind of a big deal” a la Ron Burgundy prick… I’ll thank myself. Mainly for following through with everything, and not sounding like a hipocryte when others ask me for advice and I tell them to do what they want.
I’m on the plane now, writing on here, because for some reason, my in flight movie wont work. Obviously, the payment worked- the movie doesn’t. Fuck you, Delta airlines. I was actually pretty happy when I saw what they offered. I was going to watch “Into The Wild,” “We Own The Night” and “Red White and Screwed,” Lewis Blacks’ new standup. This would have kept me entertained for roughly five and a half hours of my six hour and six minute flight.
This plane ride has been less than pleasing thus far. When I boarded, I was shoved into the window seat, although according to my ticket, I should be sitting in the aisle seat. Whatever. Its also God-awfully freezing in here. I’m wearing jeans, and a hooded sweatshirt and I’m still freezing my cojones off. Apparently, theres something wrong with the AC system, so the pilots are “doing their best” to alternate between full blast AC that could freeze a 37lb turkey, and full blast heat that could defrost and cook said turkey in record time. Whatever; I’ll let them fly the plane for now.
The lack of talent on this plane was surprising to me, as well. You’d think a flight from NY to LA might have one good looking girl. Nope. The best looking female on here is about as seductive as that stupid-ass Di saronno commercial that “savor’s every last drop” on the ice cube.
Right now, there are three people waiting on the bathroom line. Not that it would matter for me, though, being as it is that I’m wedged between someone I’ve never met before, who happens to smell like Grandpa’s old version of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, and the frosted over window.
Theres more, though. Not only has this flight been a frolick through the sand on seven mile beach on Grand Cayman, its going to dick me over for my next flight. Just you watch. My final destination, for today at least, is Sacramento. I’m flying into LA right now, and then connecting on a flight heading north. Had everything been on time, I’d have had 40 minutes to get my ass to my next plane.
Lo and behold, that wouldn’t make a very good story. As of the pilots predictions, I’ll have 10 minutes from the time this plane lands to the time my next plane takes off. As if that werent impossible enough, one of my carryon bags is 4 rows behind me because everyone on this flight decided to go ape-shit with the amount of luggage they’re carrying with them. So, I’m gonna have to either climb back there to get it, or obnoxiously excuse myself and walk four rows in the ultimate wrong direction when we land.
There were literally people slamming these overhead compartments so hard that when they were done it looked like they were praying for an oxygen mask to fall from the ceiling to avoid ending up in cardiac arrest. You know the ones that I’m talking about. The ones that fall from the celing when we crash into the ocean and being a SCUBA instructor, and thus relatively comfortable in the water, might come in handy. Those ones.
There were even bags that didn’t fit into the overhead compartments, that needed to be checked down below before we took off. Come to think about it, that’s why we’re fucking delayed in the first place. Bastards.
Also, if you book your tickets online and get to choose your seat, don’t choose the last row right before the emergency exit next to the wings. This row’s chairs don’t recline. Don’t worry though, because the row in front of you- those chairs recline, thus even giving you less personal space.
So, when I was talking before about how I was going to miss my flight. Long story short, call me Mrs. Cleo. My flight from NY landed (note: landed, not unloaded our sorry asses) at 5 50PM local time. My connecting flight was 5 55PM.
As we landed and pulled near the gate, the pilot comes on the announcement system and lets us know we “surprised” them by arriving half an hour early. First things first. We’re not “early” by any means. Secondly, how in the fuck did we “surprise” Los Angeles airport? This isnt like cousin vinny decided to leave jersey an hour early and surprise you to help baste that 37lb turkey until the timer pops. That’s surprising. This guy flew a 757 into an airport. How the fuck did they not know when we were landing? In all the commotion, air traffic controllers were “scrambling” to come up with a ground control crew to tow us to the gate.
Oh hey, look! I see the pilots taking shots over at Maxes beach bar. Gee, hope they’re flying my plane!
So, now I’m in the airport in LA waiting for the next flight to Sacramento, which happens to be three hours from now. I guess you could call this a sweet beginning to my trip.