Weekends Ain't What They Used To Be

Saturday we attended a graduation party for a friend who finished after two decades of course work. I think that sets a record! To be fair, most of those 20 years was spent not taking classes, so I think he earned the degree in about the same time as you'd expect. Anyway, the food they provided was eclectic (pickled herring, cheeses, dips, veggies) and delicious, but later that evening my stomach was not feeling well enough to try and make it to another friend's 50th birthday party. I ended up going to bed early so that Sunday...


...I could wake up at 4:20 am and get ready for my 7:00 flight to Boston. I love Alaska Air's direct flight, but I wish they could do something about that schedule! On the flipside, I love the fact that the return flight out of Boston is at 4:00 pm and arrives in Portland at 7. That usually leaves the evening free for at least one drink, not to mention some catch-up time with Partner.

In any case, the flight was quite pleasant, especially because I got to the airport early enough to change my seat to an exit row. Gotta love the leg room! Also, I sat next to a young couple from Portland who were visiting family in Belmont before flying off to Paris (for a 12-hour lay-over) and then South Africa for two and a half weeks. Apparently they won a safari trip at an auction and decided to take that opportunity to see parts of the Continent. How did I find out so much and even more?

Normally I never talk to other passengers on a flight. Maybe it's the Bostonian in me, or the fact that I can be introverted and quite shy - or maybe it's the fact that I fear being friendly to some one who subsequently won't shut up and wants to invite me to a Bible study - but in any case, I usually try to avoid saying anything to my seatmates beyond "excuse me" or "thanks." For whatever reason, this time was different, and the woman (I never did get her name) was pleasant, funny and, most importantly, knew when to end the conversation.

At one point, a couple things occurred to me: a) people from Portland seem to be generally nicer than East Coasters; and b) flights are so much better when you think of your seatmates as part of your 'team' and not your enemies. Later I realized the same thing holds true for driving. If all of us on the road thought of each other as teammates and not enemies (after all, we all want us to get where we're going safely), there wouldn't be so much aggression and bad feelings. This of course leads to my long-standing belief that there should be more Public Service Announcements on tv about safe driving - but that's fodder for another blog.

Sunday evening I arrived in Boston, but because the luggage took a long time to come out (typical at Logan), I missed the first bus to the Cape and had to kill almost an hour at the terminal. When I finally got to Hyannis, I learned that Mom was going to be in the hospital for another night. Even though the surgery went well, recovery was taking longer than expected, and they still wanted to make sure that everything was ok. I hate to think it, but I guess I hadn't been worrying for nothing...