![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I've been everywhere, man
Left Monday, stopped in SLC to check up on the SkyWest kids in training. Should have just kept going. Really should have. Ended up sitting in the SLC airport for six hours waiting for the fog which had settled. Finally got to Idaho Falls, and hung out for a couple of days.
Day of Departure: The plan is to catch the early flight to SLC and from there the only direct SkyWest flight to Portland. It's a fragile plan and is completely shattered when the first flight is oversold. Second flight looks like it will also be oversold. Third flight, if I make it on, will be between eleven and one. No direct flight to Portland. Connections between SFO and PDX look pretty full too. With only two days in each location, losing a whole day is pretty unhelpful. So I rent a car and drive. Seven hundred fifty miles. Through occasionally white-out conditions. On a freeway heavily driven by big trucks. Because I'm a moron.
But driving the gorge was pretty, and I had dinner in a town whose name I forget but had a big lovely view of the river. And forgot to get gas. Because I'm a moron. Oh, I said, no problem. I'll just stop a little way down the road and get some. Not realizing just how far it was between civilized points on that road.
And then it started raining. And the little red light on the fuel gauge went on. And still no gas station. Until, red-lining, I saw a sign advertizing gas ahead. And pulled off the road. And went across the highway. And up a hill. And then further, up a switchback climb. And every once in a while there would be a sign saying 'Yes! Gas!'
And then, children, there was in fact gas. And I refueled, and drove to the airport and traded my $150/day rental car for a $13/day rental car, and was on my way to Vancouver where I decompressed semi-explosively.
And the next day my lovely host went to the Emergency Room for post-operative complications. I'm supposed to come visit when she's /not/ prone. And unbeknownst to me, my other Portland hottie was dealing with her child's double ear infection.
But there was a trip to Powell's (Where I was reminded that even in Portland I really really hate driving in the city) and dinner at Chang's finally after a long time between visits. MmmmmmmmMongolian Grill. And I got to meet Sage, and Alex and Kia was wonderful and gave me a ride (in stages) from Portland up to Seattle. Lunch with Larry after a hunt for a park not infested with Seattle people, and an abbreviated Oscar party (I apparently came in second in 'Guess the Oscar' and was a Wardrobe Malfunction away from winning 'Oscar Bingo') before heading out for 9thMoon's wedding.
Crowded but quick, and there was much social time with people who I could see here in SF any time. (: Which was very nice. And the next morning some quality time with the newlyweds, and a stroll through Pike Street market which made me again consider getting a job with Alaska Airlines and moving.
The flight home was comparatively uneventful, aside from a minor delay. Flying into SJC was so much nicer than flying into SFO. Caught CalTrain and begged a ride from the housemate who came and saved me and bought me ice cream.
Yesterday was getting up way early and working six to nine at the polling station, which aside from the hours was not at all bad. And the state has, pretty much, decided to vote for everything I voted against, failing to listen to my opinion that buying bonds now makes everything happy and shiny at this moment but makes them much worse later with no way in sight of preparing for the worseness. Maybe it's not just the congress that are digging a big hole and refusing to notice the big hole that they're digging.
Anyway. Home now. Huge catch-up entry. Late for work. Must fly.
petrol
And everyday every trip I will remember my father telling my mother that there was about a 1/3 of a tank of gas left and she should find a town likely to contain a service station.
no subject
You're trying to torture me, aren't you?
My next trip home will be almost entirely made up of family time. *sigh*
no subject
no subject
no subject
What really made me mad was that some family of four, whose flight had been cancelled, were sitting in OUR seats. They had been given assigned seats but they were all over the place, and you can't expect a mother and father to be in different rows from their 2-year-old and 8-year-old children. But, some dipstick who works for Alaska had seated them in 13B, 14B, 14D, and 17B.
Have you ever had this happen to you? Please tell me you wouldn't just give them separate seats and send them on for the stewards and other passengers to deal with :)
no subject
This almost invariably happens only when the group shows up five minutes before cut off with no prior notice that they're travelling with small children.