Chronicles of Marmia…

I thought I would share with you the chronicles of  “school marmia,” as I and two fellow teachers (OK, one  fellow teacher and the chaperoning principal) experience the chills and thrills of travel and what I hope will be a meaningful conference and time with friends.

Day One: The Travel Saga

Day One, unfortunately, started about 11 the night before, when my husband’s sister shot him a text message, and I alone heard the message alert tone. Again and again and again. In five minute intervals. Once I was fully awake and put his phone on vibrate, I had difficulty falling back asleep, suddenly anxious that I would miss my alarm, that I would forget to pack a crucial item, that I would overpack my suitcase… At 2:47 a.m., I realized that I could check two suitcases and promptly fell asleep–until my alarm awoke me at 4:30.

Of course, I failed to be anxious about the real issue of the day: passing through airport security. Apparently, it is frowned upon to keep vitamins or your ID and plane ticket in your cargo pants. Ooops. One frisking later, I felt educated. And since my friend sneakily chose to shoot a picture and post it onto Facebook (Hello? Security!), you all are educated too.

The frisking: Really? I am clearly a teacher… see the batwings! (Despite my $99/year gym membership…)

After the embarrassment of security, I then had the pleasure of flying Southwest. And by Southwest, I mean no assigned seats. By pleasure, I mean I had the “privilege” of boarding as B59 (A1-A60 board first; then B1-B60; Brittany was B60.) I knew, of course, that I would not be sitting with friends (unless I made them) and that I would be sitting in the middle (all that would be leftover). So I did what any sensible American would do: I looked for the skinniest people in a row with an available middle seat. In my case, the skinny people found me–because they saw an obese man just in front of me and claimed me as the better of two evils.

Have you ever noticed that the person in the middle gets neither arm rest?

However, I was excited because I was number B35 for the second flight of the day, and I roamed the concourse during intermission (a.k.a. layover) envisioning seats with friends. Until we suddenly realized that we’d taken a bit long for our lunch and the plane had boarded without us. So I took the middle seat between Mr. Pot Belly and Mr. Head Phones in the second to last row. I couldn’t even see my friends.

On the upside, however, because I was so tired from lack of sleep, I yawned constantly on the flights and did not suffer the plugged ears and loss of hearing that have always accompanied my flights.

I’m calling Day One a win. (Plus we’re about to go out to dinner.)

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