journey to ma(rs)drid

hola, ye faithful readers. today begins my venture into other lands to find something new, and, knowing my luck, probably lose something old. i begin in san francisco and make my way to madrid, but my flight is not as direct as you might think. and by that i mean it is not direct at all. it is as indirect as telling someone to shut up by throwing your sandwich in the trash.

SFO: the first few crises seem to have been averted. i made it thru SF security with my nail file (aka weapon!), my semi-huge backypacky (thanks, christina!), and on time. now i sit and await boarding my first appendage of a three-legged flight. yes, it’s as awkward and wobbly as you’d imagine. like a canine war vet, maybe. i’m counting down seconds on my trusty int’l casio (purchased upon landing in rome two years ago and realizing that the previously reliable cell phone clock was not going to tell time at all and a watch [yes, they still make those] would be critical if my cohort and i were ever to make a train on time) until I can board my plane to vegas. yes, nevada. yes, a tiny one and a half hours from here. once i deplane there, i will be able to enjoy some quick slot action (which may even be code for another form of legal entertainment in LV, if you know what i mean) before boarding yet again to make my journey to toronto. i have two hours and forty five to look forward to in the great canadian oasis, so i am already contemplating the likelihood/feasibility of escaping the airport walls for a lightning-quick northeastern adventure. flash forward to 9:25 pm in (brisk and lovely?) toronto,iI am quasi-running, sweating like a retired overweight record exec in a beverly hills sauna and pushing through the airport crowds, digging deep for my best “rude american” attitude (and no, it’s not that much of a stretch, but thank you for that) in a dramatic attempt to make the doors to my final spanish leg (pierna) which leaves at 9:45. and back to now. perhaps it’d be best not to tempt the gods of transportation (as I surely have wronged one of them along the way in my days) and just stay within the confines of the undoubtedly glorious and stimulating airport.

in-flight: as i sit on the plane from sin city to canadia (which i just barely made, thanks to the one hour window between flights and the fact that air canada exists in a terminal miles (i swear) from where united let me out and necessitated a tram ride, rapid schlep, elevator, walk, shuttle all to get to the little “wings”-like facility where the northern north americans congregate to repent for their debauchery (if canadians are capable?) and recover from brutal (ve)gastrointestinal woes), before returning to their homeland, i lounge in my emergency exit window seat with no one next to me, which i choose to believe is merited by some good i once did to/for a transportation god, possibly knowing it would serve me one day. speaking of serving me, where’s my damn sandwich (that i have to pay for, you cheap, sad industry) i will say, however, i am off to a good start with my budget. thanks to the superb generosity of the great wongstradamus, my trip to SFO was cost-free, and thanks to my foresight and resourcefulness, i brought along a PB&J and drank milk on my first leg so breakfast cost me zero dollars. though i will say i felt like i was a rather “developed” kindergartener, spilling milk down my chin, chowing my smushed jammy-nutty bread wonder, sandwiched (no pun intended) between two grown men. awk-ward.

so yeah, sure, i can spring for a $7 mediocre bocadillo. god-willing, my red-eye from TOR to MAD will include some kind of sketchy paella or salisbury steak and green beans (that, by some miracle of the airplane cooking methods, are actually brown) so i can stash the rest of my euros til the morrow, when i touch down in my hot, sexy destination and give day 1 a run for its money. i mean, travel day is really just purgatory dressed up in a flight attendant’s uniform.

TOR: i now sit in the spacious toronto airport, enjoying the fact that everything is in french so i can feel like i am already kind of somewhere. i have stumbled upon a patch of internet that is FREE! FREE! FREE! which, let me tell you, has really saved me from trying to find something to do in a place where the only options seem to be buying perfume at the duty free shop and having a quesadilla at the bacardi rumbar & grill (how canadian, right?) now i am about an hour out from boarding and looking forward to whatever single-serving food items they throw my way. eating gets very discombobulated when you pass through entire 24 hour periods without sleeping. i expect my dinner a la air canada will be served around 11:00 pm EST, though at that point i will be somewhere over the ocean and thus farther into the night, and simultaneously it will be 8:00 pm back home, where i'm sure some prime time talent show is on, making "stars" out of americans who can whistle a country song with their butt. time to chomp some cheese puffs and twiddle my thumbs til i can sherpa my schmata back on the aircraft and call it a night.

tomorrow i shall be on euro soil, sleepwalking, and ready to rock. hasta luego.