Choose my airport.
Given the choice between driving to IED, RIC, or staying here, I go CHO. Let’s be honest:
Sometimes, CHO flights are too cost-prohibitive or require two layovers. But if you value sanity at about $100 or less, as I do, go CHO.
Don’t talk to the person next to me on the flight.
I make exceptions only for the rare occasions that a romantic spark lights up over our shared one-inch-thick armrest, and when I need someone to move to get to my seat. But I especially keep mum during the holiday season. Why? We’re all a little stressed, and holidays are personal. You might love talking about getting together with your six perfectly successful siblings and adorable nieces and nephews (and the family dog!) all staying under one McMansion roof with a Christmas Eve recitation of the Night Before Christmas, and the person next to you might be on their way out of the country because they’re retired and their spouse just passed and their kids don’t invite them to their homes. Or the person next to you might not care, and that person is me. I say hi when I board, bye when I land, and hope my adjacent passenger enjoyed a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, meals, movies, and reading. I don’t even chew gum. I carry a toothbrush in my bag. Take the whole armrest, for all I care.
Make my needs known.
This goes for everything from my airport arrival to what brand of coffee is brewed each morning. Curbside pick-up versus park-and-greet was actually a point of contention for me, until I learned that we [Lilith’s real last name]s are all late for everything, and no person related to me will ever have time to park and come inside to hug me and help with luggage. We’re much better, though, about saying what we want– from breakfast foods to have around to day excursion ideas. The worst we can do is say no or, “If you don’t like my Sanka and feel a need to judge me for not being able to afford your sell-out corporate would-you-like-a-sampler-CD-with-that joe, you can bring your own coffee maker. And a partridge in a pear tree.” Just kidding. We’re lucky, in that we like each other. I’m pretty sure.
Treat my elders with respect.
The trick is to do everything for my elders without making them feel like they can’t do stuff anymore, while being open to criticism for not doing it their way. I hope to one day be given unbridled whining privileges by future generations, so it’s only fair. I’m a lot more respectful than that opener makes me out to be– my “grands” are really sweet and have incredible stories, and I wish I saw more of them. I’m learning to be attentive to personal hygiene, heavy lifting, lawn care, and house cleaning. Change bandages, take out the trash, shovel snow, vacuum. My elders gave me life! And they could probably have just as easily taken it away in the 20 years I was making their lives hell and costing them a small fortune! Wonder where I get my less than squeaky clean sense of humor from? She’s over 80.
It’s not about me.
The holidays are about everyone. If the stress becomes unbearable, I’ve learned to excuse myself for a short walk or a cell call to a friend. Relatives have made digs at my personal life or a previous career, and I’ve learned to take it. My life became a lot more enjoyable and simpler when I stopped feeling the need to be right or prove myself to everyone. I could have ditched this whole post and just written, “The holidays aren’t about me” and it would be the same thing.
Happy holiday season!
* I ran a Google search on “run the gambut” versus “run the gambit” to get the right spelling, and cVillain.com came up as the 8th result on the former spelling variation! We are infamous.
Popularity: 1% [?]
Tagged as: Humor, Real Life
We’re actually 5th.
It’s GAMUT! So we are infamously bad spellers. Thank you to cka.
Its “Run the Gumby”, which kind of involves sliding along with no discernable leg movement.
Sorry for the nitpicking here, but do you mean IAD (Dulles) instead of IED? IEDs are those nasty homemade bombs in Iraq.
I’m totally with you on not talking to my seat mate. I always, always, always keep headphones on, even if I’m not listening to music. You never know when the person next to you will want to share their life story, which is usually boring. But, I did once meet a fun guy on a flight and we dated for awhile, so there’s always that possibility.
“It’s not about me”. Thank you for saying that, it’s a good reminder. It is now my mantra for the next 4 days.
Wow, I was being SLOPPY!
Some of my more memorable conversations:
a couple of strangers discussed what it would have been like to have been on one of the planes that crashed on 9.11. I got to listen to this on September 12 of this year, on a flight to Chicago. The 2 really enjoyed the discussion, and the guy started trying to hit on the woman after a while (leaning in and making excuses to touch her shoulder every time she said something funny).
2 young doctors debating the merits of performing autopsies on infants vs. 5 year olds.
These sorts of things make me understand the need for regulation. People just don’t know how to behave.
Another pet peeve are people who fly while sick as dogs. This happened on the way back from L.A. to me recently. Luckily I was 2 rows in front, but if i had been next to that bastard, I would have requested a surgical mask or to be moved. I am considering bringing a surgical mask along with my saline solution and purell while flying.
Totally agree re: CHO. It’s usually the same unless you are going to Philly as it is from RIC. I will even connect through CLT vs. flying direct from RIC sometimes. I am the biggest fan ever of the CHO airport.
You never talk to the person next to you. You just don’t.
Also, i think fat people should have to buy 2 seats.
crud buster: the deafening silence is quiet agreement. Promise.
Gauntlet. Please.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Running_the_gauntlet
Not traveling anywhere is divine so far (though this evening’s 6pm commute home down 29 was a bit more annoying than usual).