Flying high
Last night, The Texan and I had one of the most uncomfortable flights I've had in a long time. It was almost like a someone was working from a list. Screaming baby in the row ahead of you? Check. Continual turbulence? Check. Zero air conditioning and thus stale and hot cabin? Triple check.
Turned out that the pilot had to keep climbing to get the plane in a relatively unturbulent flight path. Guess how high we were up? 39,000 feet. Normal cruising altitudes for passenger planes is 32,000 feet. I've never been that high before. And believe you me, you could definitely feel the difference. The cabin was not that well-pressurized - I had to chew gum the entire 2.5 hour flight. And I'm guessing that all of the plane's resources were focused on keeping it going at that high altitude, which may have been why the A/C wasn't working. The screaming baby was just icing on the cake. And frankly she was just expressing what the rest of us were feeling.
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Good trip though. We went to LA to visit Casa Ladyship for the long weekend. While there, I think I ate my body weight in baked goods and pork products. My septugenarian father has recently discovered that he can cook and that he likes doing it. So we all benefit as a result. Plus I made The Texan create his potato and leek soup. Every time we go home, I force him to cook for my parents. I'm trying to make them feel that at least someone's going to make sure I get a home-cooked meal every so often.
And, er, I bought my wedding dress, which surprises me more than anyone else, as I had negative intentions on buying one. Ever since I got engaged, people have been asking me about what I intended to do for the wedding dress. And I have had two firm answers: 1) No white gown - I wanted a ball-gown, preferably in a jewel tone, and 2) I was going to have it made.
However. Mama Ladyship wanted to take me dress-shopping, and what Mama Ladyship wants, Mama Ladyship gets. So off she, The Texan (clutching my camera so we could document the whole ordeal), and I went. The first 8 dresses were just atrocious. And I'm not a good shopper anyways - I tend to get a wee bit crabby under the best of circumstances. I even apologized to the woman helping me - excuse me, bridal consultant - about it. She was quite gracious and waved off my apologies. She said that she's seen much, much worse. And she also said that the biggest divas are the bridesmaids. Now, I've been lucky in that I've never had an ugly bridesmaid dresses, but some of my friends have had doozies. And it just adds insult to injury, not only having to wear a dress that does awful things to you but then having to cough up $200 for it.
But I digress.
The 9th dress. Angels may not have been singing, but I am pretty sure they were humming a bit. I didn't trust my instincts though. You know how when you go shoe-shopping, and everything is just so painful you want to amputate your feet? Then you get a pair of shoes that only make you want to drive hot pokers in your eyes, and you think, "Wow, these are like walking on clouds - I'll get two pairs?" And then the next day you're weeping in agony 14 minutes into your day and plotting how you can return scuffed shoes for a full refund (which I've done FIVE TIMES)? What I'm saying is, sometimes things look good only in comparison. But Mama Ladyship and The Texan both assured me that it wasn't just a relatively good choice. It was a beautiful dress - and it was even $100 off.
So the sane thing would've been to snatch that dress off the market real quick-like. But since I was still clinging to the idea of having a colorful ballgown made, I wouldn't buy it. Instead, I went home and drove every member of my family crazy, showing them pictures of the dress and pesturing them about whether they thought I should get it. Finally The Texan went to go take a nap in the hopes of escaping. NOT BLOODY LIKELY. I went and woke him up so I could list pros and cons of buying the dress. Finally, probably just in the hopes of getting some shut-eye, he agreed with me that I must, nay, needed to rush out and buy the dress. Which I did. And am very happy about.
Oh, and I even bought a veil. I figure if you're going to fall off the non-traditional attire wagon, you might as well go for broke.
Turned out that the pilot had to keep climbing to get the plane in a relatively unturbulent flight path. Guess how high we were up? 39,000 feet. Normal cruising altitudes for passenger planes is 32,000 feet. I've never been that high before. And believe you me, you could definitely feel the difference. The cabin was not that well-pressurized - I had to chew gum the entire 2.5 hour flight. And I'm guessing that all of the plane's resources were focused on keeping it going at that high altitude, which may have been why the A/C wasn't working. The screaming baby was just icing on the cake. And frankly she was just expressing what the rest of us were feeling.
************
Good trip though. We went to LA to visit Casa Ladyship for the long weekend. While there, I think I ate my body weight in baked goods and pork products. My septugenarian father has recently discovered that he can cook and that he likes doing it. So we all benefit as a result. Plus I made The Texan create his potato and leek soup. Every time we go home, I force him to cook for my parents. I'm trying to make them feel that at least someone's going to make sure I get a home-cooked meal every so often.
And, er, I bought my wedding dress, which surprises me more than anyone else, as I had negative intentions on buying one. Ever since I got engaged, people have been asking me about what I intended to do for the wedding dress. And I have had two firm answers: 1) No white gown - I wanted a ball-gown, preferably in a jewel tone, and 2) I was going to have it made.
However. Mama Ladyship wanted to take me dress-shopping, and what Mama Ladyship wants, Mama Ladyship gets. So off she, The Texan (clutching my camera so we could document the whole ordeal), and I went. The first 8 dresses were just atrocious. And I'm not a good shopper anyways - I tend to get a wee bit crabby under the best of circumstances. I even apologized to the woman helping me - excuse me, bridal consultant - about it. She was quite gracious and waved off my apologies. She said that she's seen much, much worse. And she also said that the biggest divas are the bridesmaids. Now, I've been lucky in that I've never had an ugly bridesmaid dresses, but some of my friends have had doozies. And it just adds insult to injury, not only having to wear a dress that does awful things to you but then having to cough up $200 for it.
But I digress.
The 9th dress. Angels may not have been singing, but I am pretty sure they were humming a bit. I didn't trust my instincts though. You know how when you go shoe-shopping, and everything is just so painful you want to amputate your feet? Then you get a pair of shoes that only make you want to drive hot pokers in your eyes, and you think, "Wow, these are like walking on clouds - I'll get two pairs?" And then the next day you're weeping in agony 14 minutes into your day and plotting how you can return scuffed shoes for a full refund (which I've done FIVE TIMES)? What I'm saying is, sometimes things look good only in comparison. But Mama Ladyship and The Texan both assured me that it wasn't just a relatively good choice. It was a beautiful dress - and it was even $100 off.
So the sane thing would've been to snatch that dress off the market real quick-like. But since I was still clinging to the idea of having a colorful ballgown made, I wouldn't buy it. Instead, I went home and drove every member of my family crazy, showing them pictures of the dress and pesturing them about whether they thought I should get it. Finally The Texan went to go take a nap in the hopes of escaping. NOT BLOODY LIKELY. I went and woke him up so I could list pros and cons of buying the dress. Finally, probably just in the hopes of getting some shut-eye, he agreed with me that I must, nay, needed to rush out and buy the dress. Which I did. And am very happy about.
Oh, and I even bought a veil. I figure if you're going to fall off the non-traditional attire wagon, you might as well go for broke.
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