Hoppin’ off the plane at LAX…


…and everything that led up to it.

Since I just got my first article (ohmygodwhat), I figure it’s high time to start telling you all about this awesome trip to LA I took.  Today:  the slightly harrowing story of my flight.

I was a bit slow getting off the ground, in more ways than one.  My flight to Dallas left at 11:45, but my parents and sister left at 6 am.  I had two choices:  either drive myself to the airport or ride with my family.  I chose the latter (which was good, because the weather that day was absolutely awful – I’ll get to that in a bit), but that meant I had to entertain myself for almost six hours.  I can’t even count how many times Mom told me I couldn’t fall asleep, else security would yell at me.

And how did I keep myself busy?  Well, among other things, I did crosswords, paced the gates about ten times, wondered if the TSA folks were recognizing me by about the sixth time around, took a lot of patently ridiculous videos that will never see the light of day (what can I say, I was doing it for the Vine), and got a latte with five shots of espresso.

The five-shot latte

Jet fuel.

You thought I was kidding, didn’t you?

I also encountered the best musical pun ever.  At one point, early in this six-hour wait, I was spacing out in a chair when I heard “Time After Time” emanating from the speakers.  I got really excited, because I will forever associate that song with this scene from Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion.  Then I promptly forgot about it… until fifteen or so minutes later.

They were playing it again.

In the back of my mind, I thought something completely rational, like “oh, they must have a loop of music and announcements and stuff playing.”  The rest of me, however, was freaking out, because that meant they were playing “Time After Time”… time after time.


Finally, the flight started to board.  The lady scanning the boarding passes complimented me on my scarf.

Pre-takeoff selfie

To be fair, it’s a pretty awesome scarf.

I buckled myself into my aisle seat and eagerly awaited takeoff.

And waited.

And waited.

Mom had warned me beforehand that they’d had to de-ice the 6:00 plane, and that took long enough that they missed their first flight to LA.  I just figured that the airport would have their ish together by 11:45, and that my plane would’ve already been de-iced.


We didn’t take off for another 45 minutes.

Originally, I was supposed to have an hour’s layover in Dallas, and my plane to LA would take off at 2.  Fine.  Dandy.  Whatever.  Except by the time I got off the plane in Dallas, it was probably 1:35.  Not so dandy.  I had to change terminals, too, which doubled the suckage.  At first I couldn’t find the Skylink, so that almost made me have a heart attack.  Then I chose the wrong Skylink, so I had to go through about six stops to get to my destination.  The entire time, I’m pretty sure my face looked something like this:

A picture of Daria Morgendorffer looking supremely displeased

I decided to make a run for it anyway.  So the second I got off the Skylink, I bolted with my suitcase careening along behind me, went down the escalator (let me tell you, that escalator could NOT move fast enough), and bolted some more.  Of course, my gate wasn’t right next to the escalator or anything, but rather waaaaaaay off.  I ran some more, got stuck behind slow people, slalomed, and finally reached my gate.  After pelting down the longest jet bridge of my entire life (seriously, I didn’t even know they made them that long), I got on the plane and got to my seat, completely out of breath.  It was the kind of out-of-breath that makes you feel like you’ve been stabbed, to boot.

I had exactly six minutes to spare.

And you know, because the universe likes to laugh at me, the plane had a bit of a technical issue that caused about a fifteen-minute delay in takeoff.  But it was cool, because I was too busy trying to figure out if the dude sitting next to me was actually Alan Tudyk.

(It wasn’t.)

But finally, after three hours of staring out the window and trying to figure out if we were passing over Arizona or New Mexico or what (remember that I’m awful at geography – it’ll come into play later!), we landed in LA.

One of the most exuberant selfies I've ever taken


Next time:  my first impressions of LA.


One thought on “Hoppin’ off the plane at LAX…

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