Flight 718

Here I am in Seat 21F. Complete with bad cabernet and requisite can of seltzer.

For the first time in my life, I had the honor of paying an overage charge for my luggage. My bag weighed in at exactly 70 lbs, resulting in a fifty-dollar scam. The very chipper US Airways check-in woman praised my ability to fit over two months worth of "things" into one bag. She emphatically supported my sentiment that it's so much better to go with one heavy bag than it is to go with two. Alas, she did not waive the fee.

Chipper woman then bumped me up to a very in-demand aisle seat.

Enter Sharon. Sharon is my new "in-demand aisle seat" airplane friend. A 50-ish Jewish mother of two from a suburb of Philadelphia that I used to compete against in high school tennis, Sharon is headed to Florence for a weeklong walking tour through Tuscany. Sharon's husband passed away a few years ago, and this is her first time truly traveling on her own. Sharon's daughter is my age, and described as a creative, funky, do-gooder, Wesleyan grad type. I think I am Sharon's adopted daughter for this leg of her trip. She is very relieved to have a partner to navigate the Rome airport and the Firenze train. I am too. We have excellent airplane rapport -- easily chatting and making fun of those around us - with no forced pressure to talk for talk's sake. We are also the only two people on this flight with empty seats between us; we are seated in a four-seat emergency exit row, and we are both on the aisle. Our legs are probably the shortest of anyone's on this plane but we have hands down the greatest room to sprawl.

This aircraft has been having some sort of electrical issue since before we took off. Supposedly it was "fixed", but has now resulted in a massive in-flight entertainment debacle. Nobody's TV's are working, and there are more than a few folks up in arms. A very sympathetic & distraught stewardess in my section started giving out consolation free booze. She brought Sharon and I two bottles of wine each. Neither of us had complained and I hadn’t even yet attempted to turn my system on. One point for USAir.

I'm slowly coming out of my 48-hour pre-departure nausea. My stomach felt a little bit like a pit stop for the butterfly migration. No particular nervousness or fear, just all the last minute doings, and the general anticipation to go already. And now that I'm on the plane, and the captain has announced that we are indeed en route to Rome, this whole thing feels just a wee bit surreal...