Planes, Trains and Automobiles- Part 3

I realize that normally you would start with part 1 and 2, but part 3 is the most recent and least complicated and easiest for me to jump back into the bloggosphere with.

So last Saturday I was on my way to wonderful Washington to celebrate the holidays with my fam and friends (sooo good to see all you Seattle girls! Sorry you've all pretty much heard this story already). My mom being the thrifty (i.e. cheap) lady she is booked me a flight out of Newark so we could save on the ticket, but the lovely side effect of that was that I had to either pay $100 for a cab, or get the shared ride shuttle thing for $27. Since I wanted to be able to afford Christmas presents for the people I love I opted for the $27, 15 person van-o-fun. They don't want anyone to miss their flight so they latest they would pick me up for my 8:45 flight was 5:15. Puke. Anywho, so I decided it'd be a great idea to go out with my New York friends one last time before heading home, so after getting a solid 2 hours of sleep I got loaded into the van and headed to Newark. (Note: this entire last paragraph is basically meant to make an excuse that I was tired, and cranky, and not thinking entirely clearly by the time I finally got on the flight. Please don't judge...)

After killing 2.5 hours at the airport I finally got into my lovely window seat and took out my magazines and was all settled in, when the lady next to me asked if I'd switch seats with her 3 year old daughter so they could sit together. Being in the Christmas spirit and too sleep deprived to think about asking where her daughter's seat was I said "Sure!" and repacked my bag and got ready to move. "She's in 29B by the way" the lady told me. Middle seat. Awesome. Oh, middle seat in the very last row with no reclining seat? Even better. And you're gonna leave the back door open while you load the catering in, and you have no blankets and it's like 17 degrees out? Wonderful, thank you.

At this point I'm clearly not in a good mood so I put my hood, gloves, and scarf on and migrated to the empty window seat hoping that maybe God would be nice and decide to just leave the middle seat empty for us. Nope. The very last person on the plane is this army dude who obviously has the window seat. So I move back to the middle and plan on being cold and grumpy for the rest of the ride. Buuuut turns out army guy is kinda cute. And he'd stolen a blanket from his last trip so he offered it to me which earned him some brownie points. I don't know if it was the lack of sleep, or borderline hypothermia (fine I'm exagerating but it was cold), or maybe I just have a thing for meeting guys while on public transportation (hence this being part 3 of my planes, trains, and automobiles story), but next thing I know we're sharing headphones listening to country music on his ipod and taking turns typing stupid flirty messages on his itouch. 6 hours in a tiny airplane seat, with no food, no good movies (Aliens in the Attic doesn't count), and no blankets (thank you continental) gets you awfully cozy with your seatmate. Somewhere along the lines I find out 2 important pieces of info about my army guy: 1) He's a huge hick, and admittedly so. 2) He's 19. For real. And not even like 19 almost 20, more like he won't be able to have a beer in public for another year and a half. But this doesn't stop me from agreeing to kiss him when the poor guy in the seat next to me gets up (I'm sure his flight sucked even worse than mine cuz he had to deal with us being obnoxious and flirty for 6 hours). I'm sorry Mr. 29C!

So there you have it folks. I can cross 2 things off my list and never ever do them again:
1) make out with a guy on an airplane. Done.
2) make out with a guy more than 5 years YOUNGER than me. I don't know how Demi does, I really think the whole age gap thing is a one way street. I am clearly a very bad cougar.