Surviving the Plane Ride - October 19

Somehow, we wake up on the plane and it's two days later. Reality matches perception, in this case. I have spent many hours in the middle seat with no arm rests to call my own and no possibility of getting comfortable enough for a night's sleep. Drugs do enable a fitful 6 hours but at the expense of my poor neck. Upon awakening, I was nicely diverted by watching Sex and the City - amusing enough for airplane fare. Apologies to you who really liked it. The woman next to me slept the whole and, get this, NEVER GOT UP TO PEE! Not once on the entire flight. How the hell is that possible on a 15-hour flight? I, on the other hand, went at least 5 times, as much for the change of scene as for physical necessity. I was in awe of her bladder. Also, I forgave her slight encroachment into my "area" after we started talking a bit. She felt free to use both arm rests. And yes, I broke my isolation rule this time because the flight was really too long to ignore my neighbor. She was a brilliant woman which I determined when I saw her working a difficult sudoku without writing anything but the answer in each square. Now I know three people who work them this way. Annoying twits. My seatmate was awake for the evening meal. Ron didn't get any food but I can never relate to bypassing a meal. After all, who knows when one might next be able to eat. I figure it's a "just in case" thing, even when it's airline food. So the seat mate ordered fish (always risky and on an airline? It did call into doubt my earlier assessment of her being a smart one), ate one forkful and declared it an abomination. I, then guilty, tried to hold the little plate closer to my mouth so she couldn't see that I was busy consuming my chicken dish in its entirety. Soon after, we all fell into an exhausted stupor and the plane went obligingly dark and droned away to lull us to sleep. Then, my poor twisted and knotted neck awakened me at 8 A.M. and I go in search of coffee, watching with despair as the steward prepares a cup of instant and hands it over as if it's a something to smile aobut. Thank God the breakfast had brewed coffee and, you know it, I ate that bad boy until it was gone. At least Ron and seat mate joined me for that meal. More on seat mate. She's originally from England but has lived in Australia for years. She said she wrote dictionaries for a living and was a linguist. Was I in my glory or what? When I told her my dad used to read with a dictionary at hand so he could look up and make notes on unfamiliar words, she asked if I had kept the notes. I felt like a bad daughter for a few minutes, but got over it, somewhat irriated that she'd called my daughter qualities into question in the first place. We talked quite a bit about the US and our political scene. She commented on our "terribly tarnished" image around the world. God that's sad. And since I know bupkis about the Australian governement, I was madly trying to remember if they have a president or a prime minister but wisely decided to forgo mentioning it altogether. Safest. We bid her a fond good-bye and struggle off the plane, red eyes. stiff backs and all. Let's get happy! We're in Sydney!