Rain, Rain, Go Away!
Last minute trips to DC are always fun. I went to water aerobics on Sunday, had lunch with Dani and dinner with Jen (steamed crabs, yum!), spent some time schmoozing on Capitol Hill, and even gave Brad a quick tour of the monuments at night (he'd never been to DC before!). Yes, it's a little hotter here than it is in Austin, but that's to be expected, summer in DC.
But going home, well, that's a different story.
Here I sit at National Airport (I REFUSE to call it "RRRr..." -- I can't even say it), dreading the impending thunderstorms and hearing flights cancelled all around me. My flight is delayed by 2 hours, but so far, still scheduled to go. Cross your fingers that I can get to Dallas! Worst case scenario, I'll rent a car and drive home from there. Best case, my flight to Austin is also delayed, and is still there, so I can make it.
From now on, I solemnly swear will only fly early in the morning in the summer -- even if it means getting up at 5am (or in this case, not sleeping at all!).
Update: So much for that idea! Clearly, not enough of you out there in cyberspace crossed your fingers for me. We boarded the plane at 6:30pm, every seat full, every inch of overhead space jammed with rolling luggage. At 7:00, the pilot came on to tell us that DFW was closed because of a thunderstorm. [One of my pilot friends will have to help me understand why, if it's going to take us two plus hours to fly there, we shouldn't take off, and assume/hope that the airport will be open by then.] So, we sat. They brought beverages, and turned on the CBS pseudo-news on the video screens. But that wasn't good enough. At 8:00, the otherwise friendly and helpful gate agent (a few people commented that he was very Disney-castmember-like) came on to tell us that the flight was cancelled. ARGH.
Fortunately, I knew I had a room ready for me at casa Fratkin. So now I'm sitting here listening to the cheezy hold music for the travel agency that we use, trying to figure out how I'm going to get back to Austin. I foresee getting up at 5am again.
But going home, well, that's a different story.
Here I sit at National Airport (I REFUSE to call it "RRRr..." -- I can't even say it), dreading the impending thunderstorms and hearing flights cancelled all around me. My flight is delayed by 2 hours, but so far, still scheduled to go. Cross your fingers that I can get to Dallas! Worst case scenario, I'll rent a car and drive home from there. Best case, my flight to Austin is also delayed, and is still there, so I can make it.
From now on, I solemnly swear will only fly early in the morning in the summer -- even if it means getting up at 5am (or in this case, not sleeping at all!).
Update: So much for that idea! Clearly, not enough of you out there in cyberspace crossed your fingers for me. We boarded the plane at 6:30pm, every seat full, every inch of overhead space jammed with rolling luggage. At 7:00, the pilot came on to tell us that DFW was closed because of a thunderstorm. [One of my pilot friends will have to help me understand why, if it's going to take us two plus hours to fly there, we shouldn't take off, and assume/hope that the airport will be open by then.] So, we sat. They brought beverages, and turned on the CBS pseudo-news on the video screens. But that wasn't good enough. At 8:00, the otherwise friendly and helpful gate agent (a few people commented that he was very Disney-castmember-like) came on to tell us that the flight was cancelled. ARGH.
Fortunately, I knew I had a room ready for me at casa Fratkin. So now I'm sitting here listening to the cheezy hold music for the travel agency that we use, trying to figure out how I'm going to get back to Austin. I foresee getting up at 5am again.
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