Flying high

No, not that kind of high. The kind where one is exposed to too many people all breathing the same air (my air, mind you), the occasional screaming child or women, (depending on the flight )and the tantalizing aroma that floats from the Bathroom. Which of course there are only two. So, I sit here in 31D trying desperately to stretch my poor, cramped runners knees and glaring at all these fools who can sit in the fully upright position and sleep. Like the snoring kind of sleep. Where do they learn to do that?

Every September I travel for work for a 2 day conference. No matter what, I always encounter something of baffling proportions on my flights. For example, 2 years ago we were headed to Bend, Oregon. On both flights we encountered some SERIOUS odors. I mean the kind that will wake up those snoringsleepingstraightup types. Mmmhmm, it was that bad. It would just come wafting down the aisle searching for a naive nose to corrupt. I get that sometimes things happen and you just cant help it, but this was like no other. Hence the reason it haunts me, now 2 years later.
And no, it wasnt me.
Last year, heading to San Diego, I thought I had hit the jackpot of seats. Exit row, lots of stretchy room for above mentioned knees- nevermind the fact that if we were to head towards any water, I had first access to the door. Oh- you thought I was one of those girls that would make sure everyone exited safely? Sorry- that door opens and me and my floatie are outie. I cant hang around and wait to be trampled by panicked passengers. Anyway, here I was in this glorious exit aisle, with my traveling companion next to me, and a man in the Marines by the almighty exit door. I had just been dozing off when this shot of a sound sounded in my ears like someone just smacked my eardrum. Horribly irritated I look over to see a bear of a man slapping down a coin on the Marines tray. Dont know about that tradition? Neither did I. Go here to find out. They had a good, loud Marine-to-Marine chat about their coins and who was buying who drinks when I realized my lofty space was turning into a hangout spot as I was somewhat near the bathroom. This resulted in people leaning on my seats, AKA atleast one buttcheek on my neck and my toes getting trampeled. Seriously??

So today we are heading back to the West Coast (my old home of coasts) to the Diego de San. Once again, I find myself by the B as in bathroom. Where people line up like they are giving away free ipads, where the minute I step into the bathroom, the "buckle seatbelt sign" illuminates and turbulence starts and where the everytime I press the flush button, it scares the sh*t out of me.

Does anyone have any stories like that? Or are you one of those blessed situpstraightsleepers?

I'm off to try and stretch my legs. Better get in line.