jenn · manley · lee's · journal

So. Two more items that I need to add to the list of those things the universe has decreed for me:

1) I shall not be allowed to enter San Diego directly by plane. I must first travel to LA and then continue on to San Diego with Lori in an automobile.

2) I shall never, ever make it to a Scott McCloud talk or panel, no matter how I might have arranged it otherwise.

I got up at 4:30 in the AM to make my 6:30AM flight out of Portland. Which went well, I got to the airport in plenty of time, made in through security with thousands of others, managed to sleep the whole flight down and we arrived in LA five minutes early.

I had a two hour lay over in LA before catching the 30 minute air shuttle to San Diego. Annoying, but I'd make it in plenty of time for Scott's and Patrick's respective panels. I got a mediocre breakfast burrito served by a fellow who seemed taken aback that I wanted coffee to drink at 9:00AM. I guess he had me pegged for a
Key Lime Pie Martini drinker.

I had about 30 minutes to go before boarding my plane when the gate attendant informed me that another San Diego shuttle was leaving right then and there was room for me if I wanted it. I was thoroughly bored with the LA airport and so decided to make the mad dash for it. It was only after I sat down and buckled up that I thought about the bag I checked and how I might have to hang around the San Diego airport to wait for my luggage to catch up with me.

I needn't have worried--apparently my bag had arrived in San Diego about an hour earlier.* But I didn't learn that interesting fact until the plane I was on tootled around the taxi way for awhile before the pilot was informed the plane was to be delayed an hour due to extremely foggy conditions in San Diego. So back to the gate to be unloaded.

I ran back to my original gate to ask about my baggage, only to over hear that the flight that I just got off of was now officially canceled. Oh, and my original flight too. And a couple of them after that. On a whim I called Patrick--he was driving and i thought there was a chance he might've not left LA yet. As he was about an hour away from San Diego at that point. He mentioned Lori would be leaving later and I might try her. I did and found out she was leaving around 7:00PM. Not out of the realm of possibilities, but I thought I'd check whatever Plan B United was offering.

It was at about this time that the Angry Man in the Blue Blazer jumped out of line to harangue the gate attendant that it was United's responsibility to get us home. He had one of those aggressive hunched postures ( seemed permanent), hair in need of a haircut and looked like he's been traveling longer than me. I understand being frustrated, I mean, I hate travel delays, especially in the midst of traveling and all the useless hanging out in airports and train stations. But I actually approved of the airline's plan of not having airplanes crash and go boom in mid-air. At his third time of interrupting her, the poor gate attendant looked like she wished United would go ahead and go bankrupt already so she could collect that nice unemployment check.

When he stalked off to make a phone call she was able to inform the rest of us that United was chartering a van to drive us to San Diego. Hmm. Not only would the timing put the van at in San Diego around rush hour, the Angry Man in the Blue Blazer would be along for the ride. I called Lori back.

Now I'm waiting comfortably in John and Lori's swank new pad being attended by friendly cats. I had braved the heat to stomp around West Hollywood a bit before being rescued by the gallant John** waiting for Lori to get off work. Missing Scott's panel this afternoon aside, I'm actually quite pleased with this turn of events. I got a much needed cat break and will have a chance to hang with Lori--albeit at 70 mph--before the madness of the Con over takes us. And Lori's much prettier than the Angry Man in the Blue Blazer. And, I wager, a much wittier conversationalist.

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*Apparently they often send the bags ahead if at all possible, they fully expect people to try to get on an earlier flight. I wish someone had told me as I had just assumed that I had a two hour stop over, causer, you know, that was the first plane they had room for me on. I know, I'm so naive.

**I briefly mistook an angry black woman for John until I realized she was driving a Cadillac an not a Chrysler.