kasia in a nutshell

Where am I? Saturday Jan 18 2003 12-ish (eastern time) somewhere above upstate New York

There are very few people who can seriously enjoy being in Connecticut when it's not the pretty foliage season. It's not the foliage season - it's January -- which in our teeny state translates to cold, bitter, bone-chilling, tooth-cracking cold.

My flight this morning was scheduled to depart at 6:01am[0], so like a good little citizen of post-nine-eleven[1] America I arrived at the airport a full hour before scheduled take off. I assumed that since it's such an early flight on a Saturday the airport would be near empty. Wrong assumption. Thankfully I was pulled out of the ticketing line[2] so I could get through security in time to board my flight. Survived security - for once no personal searches[3] and the only inconvenience was taking out my laptop. Fine, no problem, I can live with that.

Let me summarize before I go on. This means I dragged myself out of my warm, fuzzy, cat-covered bed at an ungodly hour of 3:45am. Took a shower, dressed, put on makeup[4] and drove to the airport to make this six am flight. Excuse me, six-oh-one am flight.

Flight boarded as scheduled and I became the proud occupant of my favorite airplane seat - by the window. As plane taxied to the runway I prepared myself for the inevitable attack of nausea that usually accompanies take-offs and landings, well, at least for me it's usual. Engines whined, plane sped up.. and.. that's it. Stopped, turned around, back to sitting by the runway.

No, not on the runway -- by the runway.

The captain spoke: Some teeny sensor malfunction, they'll find out if we even have to go back to the gate for this and we'll be off.. Ten minutes tops!

Okay, that's not so bad, I have an hour to catch my connecting flight to San Jose, so ten minutes is not a problem. That's what I thought at the time anyway, unfortunately, ten minutes does indeed become a problem when it multiplies, strains and takes on a life of its own.

Ten minutes later:

Captain speaks: "Okie dokie, folks, we will just taxi back to the gate and replace that funky censor. That'll be just ten more minutes."

Two times ten minutes later:

Captain's voice: "Sorry folks, that didn't work, we now need to do some more maintenance, it'll be another ten minutes"

Three times ten minutes later, we now have our own little ten-minute family:

Captain booms: "Oops, heh-heh, well that didn't work either, it'll just be another ten minutes".

See the pattern yet? We're now up to four sets of ten minutes each.

Captain whines: "Well, gee, folks, don't know how to tell you this, but it'll be just a few more minutes".

Aha! Must have ran out of ten minute units we're down to the ambiguous 'few' unit[5].

Two hours later:

Captain pleads: "Oh, well, heh-heh, hm, yes, well, we'll be now asking you to depart the airplane as we try to fix this pesky little problem. This is for your convenience folks, so you can get yourself some breakfast".

He obviously never spent much time at the Bradley International Airport near Hartford Connecticut concourse B. There is one place you can buy food here.. and I use the term 'food' very loosely. Greasy hot dogs, foil-wrapped ancient muffins and lousy coffee. I settled for a cup of coffee.

At this point I realized I would miss my connecting flight[6] and made arrangements for a different one.

Summary: I have lousy coffee, a boarding pass for a flight several hours away out of Chicago to which I'm not sure when I'll get and I'm stuck at BDL in CT.

This is where I get to my point (I did open whining about Connecticut). There are many airports in this great country of ours in which one can be stuck for hours and happily spend the time shopping, eating, drinking and being merry. Bradley[7] is not one of them. The only vaguely entertaining thing to do here is watch other travelers' frustration with being delayed, missing connections and overall inconvenience. Spending four hours at this particular airport is truly cruel and unusual punishment. I've been to school detention[8] that was more fun and entertaining than this. There was the possibility that the plane has actually crashed and I went to hell.. but I dismissed that idea when I realized my cell phone still worked. If it was hell I wouldn't have digital service.

So as I sit here on the next flight out of Hartford to Chicago (11:37) I can't help but wonder just how many ten minute increments were produced between 6am and now? Yes, yes, easy mathematical equation but this was meant to be something more philosophical than that. At some point the ten minute increments which appear so short and easy take on a life of their own and become hours.. long, boring, horrible hours. I could probably come up with something more deep and thoughtful than that if it wasn't for the horrible noise coming from the engines - my near neighbors - in my aisle seat in the back of an overcrowded MD-80.

Maybe I was wrong.. maybe this is hell after all..

[edit: at the time I was writing this I have yet to find out my new connecting flight had a 2 hour delay.. how's that for a lousy day?]

[0] - can anyone explain to me why would a flight be scheduled for a minute after an hour? Why not 2 minutes? 30 seconds?

[1] - Isn't it frightening that this has become a word?

[2] - What is the point of buying electronic tickets if you still have to stand in line with all the un-ticketed passengers to get your concourse-door-opening boarding pass? Sure, it saves paper. Ok.

[3] - I knew wearing a baggy sweater over my clothes would help with that one *snicker*

[4] - To cover-up those lovely dark circles under my eyes from getting an unhealthy doze of merely three hours of sleep third night in a row. Did I mention I have problems sleeping on airplanes?

[5] - Every time I type 'unit' it comes out as 'unix' and I have to fix it.. even did it for this footnote!

[6] - Unless I can get to Chicago in an hour.. I drive fast, but not *that* fast!

[7] - Bradley International Airport near Hartford, Connecticut -- didn't I cover this part already?

[8] - It's been a while, but I still vividly remember sitting in a classroom full of bored students attempting to do homework. It's boring.