Wednesday, January 6, 2010
10:00 AM: Dad calls to say that Aer Lingus has canceled my flight from Dublin to Edinburgh, and that we have to call after 1PM to see if my Boston to Dublin flight is also canceled.
Initially, I am stoked as this means more sushi-time. Then, I realize that there is a big chance that I will miss my crew training camp— the only reason I’m going back to Haggisland four days before classes start. Missing rowing training camp might mean that my crazy captain will force the team to row across the Atlantic to come beat me up for missing rowing training camp. Start contemplating how long it would take me to swim across the Atlantic.
10:01AM: Too long. I’m a slow swimmer, and the rowing team would meet me around Nova Scotia and beat me up in “New Scotland.” Symbolism at it’s best or worse. I Can’t decide.
12:00 PM: Talk to Steph. Our friend Allie’s plane to London has been canceled. She won’t be able to get to Londontown until the 12th of January. Shite.
1:00 PM: Dad calls again. Flight is canceled, but I’ve been put on a next day flight. Small chance that that flight won’t leave either.
1:02PM: Panic that I will miss first week of grad school classes. That would not be worth the extra sushi…or would it?
1:03 PM: Decide that my fear is ridiculous.
1:05 PM: Order six rolls of sushi for take out.
1:06 PM: Begin to doubt whether I can actually eat six rolls of sushi by myself.
1:07 PM: Decide that I am Aheli freakin-Purkayastha, of course I can eat six rolls of sushi. Decide to order another roll.
1:15 PM: Get back to my house, put on an episode NCIS and my extra stretchy PJs. 1:17 PM: Begin feast.
1:19 PM: First marine is killed, NCIS moves into action. Gibbs is freakin’ fantastic. Chopsticks are flying about.
1:20 PM: First three sushi rolls are gone, time for a water break.
1:20:53 PM– Water downed, next maki in my mouth
1:30PM: All sushi is gone. Am now lying on the floor, regretting the last roll. Decide to drink more water.
1:31PM: I am dead. Death by sushi.
2:00PM: Am hungry again. Wonder if I can get more Shrimp Tempura rolls delivered?
2:01PM: Probably not. Sad.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
9 AM: Wake Up. Finish stuffing one more pair of shoes in my suitcase. Hope that daddy does not notice. Am now up to thirteen pairs of shoes. This is bad.
11 AM: Take a long bath because I realize that I am scared of my Edinburgh bathroom and rejoice in the fact I don’t have to wear flip flops the shower.
1 PM: Drop the Silver Bullet off at Dad’s friend George’s house where it will reside for the rest of winter.
1:01PM: Moment of sadness for the Silver Bullet.
2:00 PM: Lunch at Not your Average Joe’s with the Dad. I have Pork Medallions. Am very content with life.
3:05 PM: Arrive at Logan. Find out that my flight is five hours delayed. I am very happy at the thought of getting to spend an evening in Boston. MFA and Little Italy, here I come.
3:15 PM: Dad negotiates with airline to put me on an earlier flight. Am now sad at loss of strolling through the Degas and getting my favorite grilled salmon in lemon sauce.
3:16 PM: Realize that due to Dad’s negotiations, I now have to sprint through security to get to my plane.
3:17 PM: Realize that I will now be spending 9 hours in Dublin.
3:18 PM: Realize that with my track record I will probably get stolen in Dublin airport.
3:19 PM: Hmm. Doesn’t sound that bad.
3:20 PM: Remember the whole crew training camp. Begin to sprint a little bit faster. 4:00 PM: Phew. Made it through Security. 40 minutes later.
4:04 PM: Begin to miss Dad. Wish i had waved a couple more times. And been less snippy.
4:05 PM: Decide that would be a bad idea since security was already looking at my suspiciously. Must have been the polka dotted headband. or my bright pink spandex. or maybe the attempt to leap over barrier to give one last hug.
4:15 PM: Change seats after creepy old woman starts talking to me about her cats, Muffin and Tuppen.
4:30 PM: Plane is delayed two hours. Teen Vogue/New Yorker here I come.
6:00 PM: Finally get onto the plane. Am seat a row ahead of the bathroom. Plane is from the 70s, there are ashtrays with holes for the cigarettes in the arm rests. Attempt not to think of scenes from Final Destination 1, 2 or 15.
6:01 PM: Anger with Dad returns. He has kept my cell phone and cannot make phone calls to anyone before I crash a fiery death in this aircraft. I then awkwardly push my face across my neighbors lap to double check the airplane has wings.
6:02 PM: It does. My neighbor does not talk to me for the rest of the flight. Winning.
Thursday, January 8, 2010
5:00 AM: [Scottish Time]- Arrive in Dublin. Two hour delay means that I only have to spend six hours in dublin airport. Let the game’s begin.
6:30 AM: Get to Lounge. Realize that Dublin is in Europe and therefore does not heat their buildings. I start to regret wearing my cute dress, stockings and an almost non-existent coat.
7:00 AM: Seriously regret taking off my Flanel PJS
7:07 AM: Start to contemplate buying a Guinness Blanket.
8:00 AM: Decide I am too cheap to buy one.
8:01 AM: Can’t believe it took me an hour to decide whether or not to buy a blanket. Should’ve bought a cup of tea in that time. To help with the decisionmaking, or lack there of, process.
9:30 AM: Watch a snowstorm pass across the giant sized windows. So pretty.
9:30.13 AM: All the monitors around me start blinking angrily.
9:30:30 AM: I squint closer… “Dublin to Paris: Delayed” “Dublin to London: Delayed” Dublin to Tokyo: Delayed”
9:30:50 AM: It’s kinda pretty. All the blinking is red, almost christmassy…
9:31 AM: WAIT! Surely Dublin won’t shut down for a dusting.
9:33 AM: It couldn’t.
9:33:42 AM: Oh my god. It could.
9:34 AM: Dusting is over.
9:38 AM: Remember crew training camp. PANIC.
9:45 AM: Oh fuck it. Start watching the Departed on my iPOD.
9:46 AM: Oh Marky Mark’s “Boston” accent.
11:25 AM: Realize that the flight scheduled to take off an hour before mine has not left the gate due to dusting. More PANIC.
11:26 AM: Run to another gate to see if my flight has been moved to another gate.
11:27 AM: It has. Victory!
11:30 AM: Excellent, my flight sign has no angry “delayed” sign.
11:34 AM: Hmm. Flight actually has no sign.
11:36 AM: Announcement that flight is delayed 15 minutes.
11:45 AM: Five hours till the Train for Crew Camp. Still could make it.
12:00 AM: Get on plane. No captain.
12:40 AM: Still waiting for captain to get onto the plane.
12:41 AM: Contemplate flying it myself.
1:00 PM: Captain gets onto the plane at the same time the plane is suppose to arrive in Edinburgh.
1:01 PM: Pass out for sheer anxiety and wondering if I will ever have another normal flight.
2:05 PM: Get to Edinburgh, push pass old woman to get to baggage claim. 1 hr 30 minutes to train for Crew Camp. Am convinced I can make it. I can cox in a dress.
2:30 PM: Still no luggage.
2:35 PM: People on the pane that arrived after us have gotten all their luggage.
2:37 PM: Someone is clearly toying with me.
2:50 PM: Baggage comes! Do a victory dance.
2:51 PM: Notice the hot guy looking at me oddly. Realize that I am chicken dancing in public.
3:07 PM: Same hot guy is sitting next to me on the bus back. I avoid any contact and put my Snow Patrol on extra loud to avoid any type of contact- visual or otherwise.
3:15 PM: Little kid climbs onto my lap. Thinks that I am a lion, proceeds to “roarrr” at me.
3:15:15PM: Little kid is judging me for not roaring back at him.
3:16 PM: Everyone, including mother, thinks this is adorable.
3:18 PM: Kid is sticky and playing with the buttons on my cute jacket.
3:18:42PM: Want to die.
3:30 PM: Train for crew pulls away from the starting. Am still a half hour from my flat. Kid has been removed but is sitting across from me, throwing his gloves at hot boy. I am not amused.
4:00 PM: Make it back to my flat. Collapse on the bed.
4:10 PM: Run to the Mosque kitchen for kebab and spinach curry.
4:17 PM: Life is looking up again.