Crazy Brunette

I wanted this blog to be about the story of my time in Maine. But all I can think about is the crazy lady I sat next to on the plane ride home. Seriously.Crazy.

So let me get the Maine part out of the way. It was a blast, and I was on the go from the day I got there to the day I got home. Nonstop. The weather was decent. I got to visit just about everyone I wanted to see. I spent a ton of time with my mom, which was well overdue, and also with my 4 year-old sister, who is the cutest girl with the biggest attitude. We ate so much food, and I surprisingly only gained 1 pound, which is about 15 times less than I expected to gain. I also met all kinds of new friends thanks to momma. I spent some quality time with the best friend, almost cried when we said goodbye, but was instead distracted by the “tickle fight” she attacked me with (who does that?)… love love love that girl.

So now the story of the crazy plane lady… don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Before I start, let me say – the 3 hour time change is something I never adjusted to, so when I woke up at 5:00 am on the day of my travels, it still felt like 2:00 am. A long day ahead of me, indeed. I took a bus to Boston, so I was already tired by the time I boarded the Boston to San Fran plane. Waiting at the gate, an old woman with a weird looking long-haired dog didn’t seem to notice that her dog’s bark was echoing through the entire airport. I prayed and prayed that she wasn’t sitting anywhere near me, and of course, when I boarded, she was DIRECTLY in front of me, yappin’ dog and all. The plane was big, stuffy, and packed full with crying babies – just my luck.

The woman next to me reminded me of my mom, except that she was a brunette with long hair and my mom’s a blonde with short hair, but whatever. She started chatting my ear off before we began to move. She seemed nice enough, except that every time I put my headphones in, she’d start a new conversation. By the time we had taken off, she told me the sad story of her 22 year-old daughter. She had just died in the beginning of September. Sad, right? From a heroin overdose. Too much information, right? Brunette went on to tell me that her daughter was working as a stripper in Oregon and was also a recovering drug addict. Brunette found her in her bedroom on the morning she died, which is very super sad to hear, but how uncomfortable was that conversation for me… Brunette cried a little and asked me if I wanted to see the tattoo she’d just gotten of her daughter. Before I could answer, she was unbuttoning her shirt. Yeah, seriously. Off came the shirt, and she had nothing but a very small tank top on as she made me hold up her hair so I could see the new shoulder tattoo of her daughter’s face. I wanted to say something like, “She was beautiful,” but I was so weirded out by holding Brunette’s hair that I was speechless. All I wanted to do was sleep, and all she wanted to do was talk about “dead daughter,” as she kept awkwardly referring to her daughter. Her other daughter, who was traveling with her but sitting in the front of the plane, had just donated eggs in Boston, and for another hour or two, I got to hear all of THOSE fun details. Some people…

So after the longest plane ride of my life (6 hours felt like 60), Brunette said, “Good luck with the rest of your travels,” and I couldn’t think of anything to say that didn’t refer to her daughter, so I smiled like a creep and got the hell out of there.

I took a plane that was smaller than my kitchen from San Fran to Monterey, and guess who sat DIRECTLY behind me? Yappin’ dog lady with her ugly little yappin’ dog. After an incredibly scary plane ride home, I finally made it. My husband was waiting for me at baggage claim, and his cutesy little smile made my weird and never-ending day so much better. We had some awesome Chinese food, and I was asleep by 8:30 pm. My life.

Seriously...