So I Flew Half Way Across the World

                                  Please enjoy this grainy shot demonstrating my massively generous leg room.  Taken covertly from my iPad, lest I seem tacky and classless taking obvious photos of my feet. So I finally arrived in the US. And that in itself warrants a blog post, because I was convinced any number of forces outside of my control would conspire against me to ensure that either me or my bags would not make the specified destination, and either or both would be pulled aside for a cavity search in a private room. Which would feature globally on Border Security or the equivalent airport security TV programme of choice for every single country on the planet. I shit you not, this is the reasonable parameters my mind goes to when tossing up what may or may not happen when I stray from my usual routine of school runs and grocery shopping. So I made sure to have a full body wax and get my hair done, just so I would be cavity and camera ready.  Because I like to be prepared. First up there was a 20 minute delay out of Perth.  I spent the time trying to work out where to plug my headphones in. Covertly. Because I'd used #1Hubby's frequent flyer points to upgrade myself to the pointy end of the plane for my Perth/Sydney flights.  If I was to ask the flight attendant where to plug in my headphones she would rudely know that I didn't belong, and quickly drag me, kicking and screaming and whining and muttering shed words, to the back of the plane.  While everyone laughed and pointed. Yes, really.  This is what I was thinking. When we finally hit Sydney I reluctantly say farewell to my big seat at the pointy end, destined for the back of cattle class for the mega Sydney to LA leg....because some moron was so jazzed about the cheap fare she got online, that she didn't check the conditions regarding using frequent flyer points for upgrades. No time to dwell on it though, as the delay out of Perth had me convinced I was going to miss my very closely scheduled connecting flight. I was now envisioning sleeping in the terminal overnight, while my luggage made the trip to LA where someone would pop the locks and sift through the apparently abandoned cases, taking what they wanted and leaving the rest strewn over LAX baggage carousel 5. Yes, really.  This is what I was thinking. Via sheer athletic sprinting ability and some impressive crowd ducking and weaving I made it to the next flight. I was positively buzzing. Then the buzz died as we sat on the Tarmac for over an hour thanks to a water leak.  A water leak that engineers were having trouble locating. Oh fantastic, now the plane's going to split apart somewhere over the ocean and I'll end up living a mix of Lost and Cast Away until eventually someone goes all Alive on me and eats my fingers. Finally, the leak is located in 2 of the upper cabin toilets.  They are unable to fix them, and so they are put out of order for the duration of the 13hr flight. Meaning everyone in Premium Economy must schlep it to the rear of the upper level and share the one single toilet for us plebs in economy.  For 13 hours. Highlight : the captain announcing the source of the leak, then 5 minutes later coming back on to clarify that it was clean tap water leaking on to the lower level. And then, to top it all off, as we were finally ready to take off, over an hour late, a hostess comes sashaying down aisle to do a last minute business class upgrade. She was heading in my direction. My heart was racing. We made eye contact for a brief moment and I half smiled, because, you know, I didn't want to appear smug in front of all the regular economy people.  Far be it from me to rub it in as I scramble for my cabin baggage and elegantly swan up to the pointy end. My mind was racing with how to best respond when the hostess stopped at my seat and offered me the upgrade to business class.  It had to be classy and understated, grateful but not desperate and gushing. As she approached she smiled and stopped. At the guy directly in front of me. Son of a.....