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<\/a><\/p>\nThose people next to me? \u00a0They could fall asleep with ease. \u00a0I was jealous. \u00a0Despite my eyelids feeling like they weighed a couple of player pianos, I couldn\u2019t sleep. So I finished reading Shogun, one of the supposed America’s Best Books over at PBS. \u00a0I distinctly remember as a kid seeing that large white dustjacketed hardback on my parents\u2019 bookshelf, filed next to Roots and one of those Michener epics, and inexplicably a green two volume history of the White House they won at some function. \u00a0Shogun is kind of the Game of Thrones if its day. \u00a0In the end, it was a fun way to pass the time but I\u2019m not sure I\u2019d call it one of the best books ever. \u00a0It is more worthy than Twilight or 50 Shades of Grey, so, shrug… it can be on the list.<\/p>\n
Whilst killing more time as the kid behind me kicked the seat repeatedly, annoying the couple next to me even more than me… which is saying something… I was struck by this 737\u2019s excessive labeling of items, from a safety card to a coat hanger. \u00a0I half expected there to be a post-it note on the outside with the word \u201cplane\u201d scrawled on it.<\/p>\n
Arriving in Dulles, I swear Kristen Stewart was riding the shuttle to the international terminal with me. \u00a0I tried faking a phone call telling the imaginary callee that I *loved* Catch That Kid<\/a>. \u00a0She didn\u2019t seem to respond but I still think it was her.<\/p>\n On top of that, Potbelly was trying to gaslight me. \u00a0There is no cookie.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n I\u2019ve always dreaded eight hour flights. \u00a0Not because they\u2019re long but because they\u2019re too short. \u00a0A five hour flight is long, a 12-15 hour flight is long. \u00a0But an eight hour flight? \u00a0It\u2019s just the wrong amount of time.<\/p>\n In the early naughts when I would commute back and forth to a job in the UK, I\u2019d try and avoid connecting flights on the east coast, preferring to fly through DFW or if I was really lucky a direct flight to LHR. \u00a0The reason being that I wanted the longer flights. \u00a0It enabled me to hopefully get some sleep.<\/p>\n I have trouble sleeping on planes. \u00a0The seats are obviously uncomfortable, designed as if by the Marquis de Sade. \u00a0But more than that I\u2019m often just off on time zones. \u00a0Usually a flight that gets into a place in their local time morning means I\u2019m landing just as *my* body clock says it\u2019s time to go to sleep. \u00a0Which makes the eight hour flight the toughest of times for me.<\/p>\n It usually takes 90 minutes from takeoff to meal service… and I\u2019m too cheap to skip the meal service feeling as I do it\u2019s included in the price of my airfare.<\/p>\n [A quick sidebar on today\u2019s SAS flight. \u00a0I\u2019m apparently in Go! Class, which means outside of one complimentary soft drink with the one-choice beef meal, everything else is for purchase. \u00a0A can of soda at 36,000 feet costs more than a bottle at the airport. \u00a0It\u2019s not highway robbery… it\u2019s skyway robbery.]<\/p>\n WTF SAS?!<\/p>\n So after the meal service, you\u2019re down to 6.5 hours. \u00a0Assuming the breakfast service is about an hour or hour and a half from landing, you\u2019re looking at a tight four hours of \u201crack time,\u201d and it can feel like the Spanish Inquisition in those seats. \u00a0If you don\u2019t fall asleep immediately after the meal, you\u2019re looking at even worse chopped up sleep time. \u00a0On a longer flight, there\u2019s more wiggle room between the two meals and thus better odds of dozing off.<\/p>\n I\u2019ve slept nary a wink on this flight, though I did try closing my eyes and not moving for a few hours. \u00a0The free range toddlers belonging to the folks across the aisle from me thought it funny to grab me and a few times. \u00a0To my credit, I never lost it with the kids – they don\u2019t know any better – but I did stink eye the parents. \u00a0I get it, they\u2019re tired, the kids are tired, I’m tired, it takes an SAS Go! cabin to raise a village or whatever. \u00a0But I just wanted some shut-eye. \u00a0Not even sleep… just some literal shut-eye. \u00a0And that turbulence you feel means the seat belt sign is on. \u00a0Buckle up your kid.<\/p>\n Unable to sleep and not really up for the movie options on the seatback screen, and too lazy to pull out my Surface Pro from my backpack, I figured I’d pass some time with the other entertainment options.\u00a0 Games — sure, that sounds like fun:<\/p>\n And yet, it’s not “games” — it’s “game.”\u00a0 Singular.\u00a0 Just one.<\/p>\n Each game of chess means there’s one less remaining to be played.<\/p>\n This isn’t like my still painful blueberry muffin debacles<\/a> (which as you’ll recall was a muffin with a single blueberry and thus I guess emblematic of truth in advertising… prompting me to always order “a blueberries muffin” which only makes baristas and muffin mongers look at me like I’m crazy… which, ya know, fair play).\u00a0 I don’t think I’ll ever get over blueberry muffin.<\/p>\n And yet, this “games”\/”game” thing?\u00a0 This is yet another first world problem that I’m going to whinge about for all time.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n Here’s what I look like upon landing in Copenhagen:<\/p>\n And this is proof positive that Denmark is incredibly expensive — that cheeseburger is USD$22.\u00a0 It doesn’t even look good.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n I’m running low on battery charges and I foolishly packed my power plug adapters in my checked luggage.\u00a0 This is what I get for not wanting to lug my other bag around airports.\u00a0 My back and shoulder and neck say thank you… my technology says “bleep-blop, bork bork.”\u00a0 That means, “you’re an idiot, Kevin.”\u00a0 Oh and “eep, opp, ork, ah ah” means “I love you.”<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/a> <\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n