happy birthday

Semagic popped up to alert me that it is both kingchiron's and ntamara's birthday.  Hope you both have happy ones!  Me, I'm going to spend the day on a bus and then a plane.  So I'd better get to that.  :-)

in which i hate everyone. or, a lot of people.

I should have realized the day was going to suck, actually, when it got off to the least auspicious of beginnings:  I missed the 11:00 bus to Heathrow when I arrived at Gloucester Green at, by my watch (and the guy's who confirmed that the bus had just left) at 11:00:45.  Took a cab to the Thornhill Park & Ride, beating the bus's time, and got it from there to Heathrow, but, man.  Already off my stride, you know?

Got to Heathrow a little before 12:30, for a 2:30 flight.  Stood in line for about 45 minutes before being pulled out and sent to the emergency check-in-for-this-flight-is-about-to-close line, in which I stood for 45 minutes.  Note that check-in closes an hour before the flight.  I was far from the last Boston passenger in the emergency line, as well, by the way.  The short version of my general lunchtime experience is:  Virgin Atlantic in Heathrow Terminal 3 was, today, a clusterfuck of really impressive dimensions.  Scope and extent, I mean -- I didn't know anyone could fuck things up that badly who wasn't affiliated in some way with the federal government.

Anyway.  At, no kidding, like 2:10, they finally put a boarding pass in my hands.  Hey, I've been upgraded to Premier Economy; that's at least something.  Have to book like crazy to get to and through security, though.  Anybody know Heathrow?  There is no hurrying in that airport, and if you do manage to be moving quickly, you're still going to be at it for a while.  Naturally my plane was leaving from the absolute furthest gate at the end of the extra appended concourse on the other side of England -- look, it's literally about a third of a mile from the metal detectors to the gate, okay.  I'm tearing down moving walkways calling 'excuse me, sorry, coming through, sorry, excuse me,' and watching people pull their children out of my path just before I mow them down.  ("Laissez passer madame!"  "Excusez-moi, merci!  Sorry, coming through, excuse me," etc.)  Got to the gate at about 2:35, and of course the line to get on the plane is backed up halfway up the jetway, but if I hadn't hurried they'd have closed the door without me.  Bought a soda from the machine conveniently right inside the door, got on the plane, found that there was a guy already in my seat.  Of course.  This happened to several of us.  The double-booking, though, had a good explanation:  those of us who had been upgraded had been upgraded not for the offensive inconvenience of being accused of checking in late when it was the airline's fault we were late in the first place; it was because they were out of seats in steerage, and they had to put us somewhere.  The people in Premier Economy had in turn been upgraded to First, because leapfrogging us over them into the really cushy cabin would have been, one admits, very very wrong.  There was a lot of seat-swapping drama, though, also involving an Italian family of five, but ultimately it all got sorted out and we flew from London to Boston without incident.

When I say "we", please understand that I mean the plane and the passengers, but not my suitcase.

Fuckers couldn't get the bag onto the plane in motorized vehicles in the time it took me to wait in two more lines and get to the gate on foot.  It's coming tomorrow.  I'm about to go downstairs and let the hotel know to expect it, because I won't be here when it arrives.  (Bleakest of ironies:  I didn't have to check the damn thing.  It's a roll-on suitcase and I could have called my laptop case my 'personal item'.  This is what I mean about getting off to a bad start; the minute I missed that bus, I was no longer in The Zone.  I hit on 16 and got a 6, man.)

Anyway, I spoke to the nice information people, who helped me work out how to get here, and after taking a bus, the T (two lines), the commuter rail, and a taxi, I'm in this hotel and connected to their free wireless internets.  Huzzah for free wireless internets.  I have my laptop, my cell phone, my wallet, my hairbrush, a couple of KitKats, my camera, my iPod, my diary, some printouts relating to my thesis as well as some printouts relating to the curling championships, my flash drive (which I wore around my neck, because carrying the flash drive in the same bag as the laptop is not an adequate guard against the foolishness of having one's thesis saved in only one place), and naominovik's book (which I'm finding excellent -- although I did flinch in one place where someone had I assume edited in a use of 'lay' as the past tense of 'lay', grr, argh).  I do not have any clothing or toiletries, or my cell phone charger.  However, flt will be here relatively soon, with a car!, and we can go Somewhere and acquire a couple of things.

I also have a persistent and troubling toothache, in a tooth I had filled the last time I was home.  It was bothering me a lot a couple of days ago, and then not for a bit, and today it has been again.  But I know flying can cause issues with dental work; so I'll give it tomorrow, but if it's still bugging me tomorrow evening, I may have to see about some kind of emergency dentistry.  Feh.