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The Terrible Plane Passenger

22 Feb

I hope this doesn’t come off as rude or offensive, but it’s my blog and I can be honest here and say that there are just some people in this world that I would rather not sit next to on a plane.  Does this make me a bad person?  No.  Does this make me think anything less of those people?  Absolutely not! after all I’ve been that person (story to follow)…. but given the option I can guarantee that you’re not going to be the one to volunteer to take the middle seat inbetween the sweet precious tantrum baby and the [I’m sure, very] friendly man with the absolutely horrendous BO.  Amiright?!

That being said, I’ve taken the liberty of creating….

The World’s Best Worst Airplane Seating Chart:

plane seating chart

Isn’t this what it always feels like every time you fly!?

*Honorable mentions go to The Mean Parent, Over-Sized Dreads Guy, The Won’t Pull Down The Shade When The Sun Is Beaming In Your Face Kid, Everyone’s BFF (not to be confused with the Jokester or Oversharer), The Flight Attendant Brown Noser and last but not least… The Cougher.
**My personal favorite is The Panicked Flier… I once sat next to a woman that insisted that I walk up and down the aisle with her before take-off to physically touch/count every aisle seat on the way to the emergency exit in case it was too smokey to see when the plane went down.  She also wore nylon socks because the material is less flammable than cotton….?  Because when the plane goes up in flames heaven forbid my socks catch on fire.  I wish I could make this stuff up, but alas.. true story.

I got to go to back to Abilene for Sing Song and an unofficial friend reunion of sorts this past weekend… it was my first time going to Sing Song since since I was in it FIVE YEARS AGO.  I’ve learned there are two things in this world that make you feel old: 1 – 5 year reunions of any variety and 2 – your hands being sore from playing skee ball (yes, I experienced both this weekend).

It was seriously sooooo great to catch up with old friends, professors, go to Friday praise chapel on campus (tears!), hangout with the fam, hangout with Granny and friends at her ‘retirement village’ … all in all awesome.  So awesome in fact that I got a total of six hours sleep between Thursday night and Friday night, and 45 minutes of sleep Saturday… My flight was out of Dallas at 830a Sunday morning so my friend and I woke up at 5a to drive to DFW so I could catch my flight.  Have I mentioned that girl is a saint?

We struuuuuuuuggled to stay awake on our three hour drive but any attempt at remaining coherent was completely useless.  She stayed awake by driving 95 MPH (God bless Texas highways) with her hand out the sunroof and/or grabbing ice from her Whataburger cup to rub on her face.  I don’t know how I stayed awake because I pretty much just stared straight ahead and tried to keep up conversation as we watched the sunrise.

you try staying awake driving through three hours of THIS!

you try staying awake driving through three hours of THIS!

In the last hour of the ride delirium started kicking in and I somehow convinced myself that I had forgotten to purchase my return flight.  I spent the next 40 minutes on the phone with various airlines asking if they had a reservation for me, only to realize that I was flying on the same airline as I flew in on because I had in fact bought a round trip ticket… (shocking, I know).  I also discovered while waiting in the security line at the airport that I had lost my phone… only to realize a full 24 hours later that I had put in my wallet (where I always keep it); nevermind the fact that I opened my wallet to get my ID out, put my ID away, get my debit card out and put my debit card away in that 24-hour time frame. That’s four accounts of quite literally touching my phone and having no idea where I had left it.  I made it through security and went to my gate… well, the wrong gate.  After standing in line to board a flight to Philadelphia for 12 minutes I realized I was at gate 38 and my ticket said gate 28.  2’s and 3’s look pretty similar….  (just go with it).

After that crazy fiasco of a morning, I somehow managed to make it on the correct plane and sat down in the correct seat.  Let’s call this a win.  Little did the guy next to me know what was in store for him.

I made absolutely no attempt to be friendly and I think the frazzled hair, 24-hour old makeup and disheveled yoga pants + hoodie fashion statement was enough to keep me from finding my new best friend for the next three hours.  Needless to say, I was left alone and passed out as soon as I heard the flight attendant say “San Diego.”  Aaaaaaaaand we’re off!

I have no idea how far along into the flight we were or how long I had been asleep… but I was startled awake by the man sitting next to me.  Why you ask?  Oh only because

I WAS SNORING IN HIS FACE.

I like to think I looked something like this....

I like to think I looked something like this….

this is probably a little more realistic...

this is probably a little more realistic…

 

I kid you not, my head was turned all the way to my left facing upwards, mouth gaping open, breathing and SNORING less than four inches from this poor man’s face.  It had to have been even worse than what I’m envisioning because when I opened my eyes the two people sitting behind me were quite literally standing up out of their seats to try and catch a glimpse of the obnoxious, rude, horrendously disgusting person (aka: me) that was the talk of the entire plane.

I was so confused when he woke me up I just ended up flinging my hands out in front of me to catch my balance [in the extremely stationary plane seat], tried for .3 seconds to figure out where I was but quickly turned my head to the other side and fell right back asleep.  How rude of that guy to wake me up! (kidding)

When we the plane touched down I was jolted awake and wiped the drool from the sides of my mouth.  I casually looked at the man next to me and judging by the fact that he moved his mouth, chuckled and pumped his eyebrows up and down I can only assume he said something to me… I didn’t understand him or attempt an effort to respond.  I looked at him confused and propped my head back on the seat waiting to deboard.  Man, I bet HE felt awkward!  Idiot.  (kidding)

I got home, crawled in bed and fell asleep by 11a.  I woke up Monday morning at 6a to head to work and was quite the peach that day, let me tell ya 😉

I guess when most people fly, they walk of the plane with a story about some crazy person they had to sit next to.  Well in this case, I am that crazy person and I have to tell the story on myself :/ I do however take great comfort in the fact that I provided that man (and a plane) with a story to tell to their friends and families that picked them up from the airport.  You’re welcome, World.

Unibrow. Sugar. Fart.

3 Jan

One of my biggest fears in life is having my old, close, dear friends meet the new awesome people in my life… the reason being, I have a number of stories (read: really embarrassing moments) that I have conveniently chosen to forget, that my friends remember for a lifetime and bring up when I’m trying to disguise myself as someone that is socially normal.  This is one of those stories, and these are the girls that have it:

melalashley

The four of us lived together our junior year of college in a house we called The Mullet.. business in front, party in back.  I want to go ahead and tell one of these stories on myself before you have the opportunity to meet them.

The Mullet

The Mullet

It was the fall semester of our junior year and our ‘sorority’ (for lack of a better word) social was coming up; the theme was “All Things Yellow”  and I decided that Bert and Ernie was a cute costume idea… I’d be Bert (because he’s yellow) and my date would be Ernie.  The real reason I wanted to be Bert was because he has a siiiiiiiick unibrow and I’ve always wanted one.  Perfect opportunity to sport a uni!! (Who am I?)

the final product... cute, right?!?!

the final product… cute, right?!?!

A few nights before the social I had a random night off (rarely happens in college) and all my roommates were out of the house (also rarely happens in college).  My thought process went something like this:  I’m bored.  I don’t want to study.  Social is in two days.  Maybe I should get a costume together.  Do I still have that turtleneck?  Hey!  Unibrow!  I need to practice my unibrow!

……………………………………?

Because everyone knows you can’t just wing a unibrow… it’s got to be perfect (?????)

………………………………………………………….?

I pulled out some eyeliner and mascara and had at it.  The more time that passed, the more focused I became with perfection.  The less I realized what exactly I was doing.  The bigger the rectangular colored in black brick was getting on my forehead.  Aleisha came home and I popped out of my room to see what she was up to.

Before she could so much as get a word out, she fell on the ground pointing and laughing.  I didn’t realize that she hadn’t been with me for the completely logical thought process that resulted in me putting a unibrow on my face.  I chuckled along nervously but she Could. Not. Stop. Laughing. It was in that moment that I realized that investing 30+ minutes to practice drawing a unibrow on your face is weird.

We started joking around and decided we couldn’t let a good unibrow go to waste… we needed to let this thing out in public!  Aleisha mentioned I should go ask the neighbors for a cup of sugar because we ran out when we were making our hypothetical sugar cookies.  Perfect!  The only problem was, most of our neighbors were families and it was pretty late so we didn’t want to disturb them.  Oh except the upper classmen/hot guy fraternity guys that lived across the street.  Target acquired!! (wtf, self???)

We marched ourselves over there giggling at the thought of their reaction to their new unibrow neighbor.  HotGuy1 answered the door and quite literally jumped back at the sight of my face.  It was priceless… I kept a straight face and managed to talk this poor guy’s ear off all while he tried to avoid eye[brow] contact.  He invited me into the house and walked me to the kitchen.  Leish waited for me outside… after all, the joke was pretty much over and this shouldn’t take too long… right?

He pointed in the general direction of the cabinet where they kept their sugar and without stopping kept up his pace, headed out of the kitchen and to the back of the house without so much as saying bye.  I rummaged in the cupboard when HotGuy2 came to the kitchen.  I turned around to say hi and he had the same gut-wrench-jump-back reaction.  How am I just so hilarious?!

I kept him in conversation as long as I could while his eyes darted around the room.  I maintained a straight face the entire time and even added lots of expression to my words just for the sake of using my eyebrows more in conversation.  I couldn’t take it anymore.. this poor guy… I finally gave him an out and decided it was time to leave.  When the unexpected happened.

I farted.

LOUDLY.

The loudest fart I have ever farted in my liiiiiiiiiiiiife.

It was not the kind of fart that you can blame on a chair scootching across the floor.  Or whose sound can be masked by the slam of a car door or a loud cough.  This was a bellowing, sound altering, mind blowing fart.  It’s one thing to intentionally embarrass yourself with a unibrow.  It is quite another to be taken back by an unexpected fart-boom.  What may have made it even worse was the fact that my response was to just turn and run.  As fast as I could.

As I bombed through the dining room, the kitchen, out the door and past Leish who had been waiting patiently in the driveway, I used everything I had learned from my 7th grade hurdle coach…  head up, knees up, toes up, hands flexed… bring it, [someone that runs really fast]!!  I had an undeniable look of muderous determination to get myself into The Mullet.

Leish could do nothing but run behind me asking “What happened?!?!  hahahahaha Wait why are we running?!?!  What happened?!?!?! haaaahahahaha Sarah???  Why are we running?!?!”  There was nothing that could be said or done to break the concentration I had harnessed to get into that house.  We ran inside, slammed and locked the door behind us and I told her the whole story.

To this day, it is one of the more memorable Mullet stories (and trust me… there are A LOT).  So before they have the chance to throw me under the bus… that is what happened the night of the unibrow sugar fart.

And now some cute pictures of the four of us so we can reminisce about the ol’ college days ❤