Don't Wanna Be a Bus Driver All My Life....

I cannot tell you how excited I am to be in my new office. I'm getting no work done at all. I told my boss I had to move my desk around and face away from the window, because I am distracted by outside.

Today I watched as the morning Ryanair jets took off, and then landed, and then Easy Jet planes started to arrive.

Edit: meant to say this is the sun thru fog and stregthened window!


Every time the planes touched down I got a bump in my belly. Not from the building vibrating obviously, (because it's pretty dang sturdy), but from the excitement in my belly that I get every time I fly. I'm so close to these planes it's like being on them.

In 2001 we spent a lovely holiday in Florida. On the way home we had a stop over in New York, and spent some time dancing around Newark Airport. After a long wait, we boarded the flight. I was sitting with the kids - Si and my mum were sitting in the next row.

Tooli snuggled into me, and fell asleep. The plane took off, and after twenty minutes she looked up at me and said "mummy....." her voice tailed off, as vomit exploded from her wee face, it hit me on the forehead and dripped down my face. That was joined by another few direct hits, and I did the only thing possible. I raised my arm in the air and pressed the bell.

The stewardess was great. She looked at me completely horrified and helped me out the seat, got a bag down for me, and ushered me and Tooli to the loo. We changed out of our summer gear, and into UK weather gear. Washed what vomit we could out of our hair and faces, and went back to our seats.

The stewads had removed the seat covers and covered them with tea towels. The floor they had covered with coffee granuals to clear the smell. They sat us back down with a supply of paper bags. Twenty minutes later, she did it again. And then another twenty minutes. This went on for 2 hours, when Steven looked up from the doze he had been in, and said "mum..."

He then produced a vomit, only to be exceeded by Dawn French pretending to do the exorcist. The stewards gave up with the paper bags and brought me a bin bag for both of them. I sat in the middle, patting their heads and trying to keep them calm as they alternated between vomiting, until the last hour of the flight.

As we sat on the tarmac at Glasgow Airport. I said "we'll just sit here until everyone is off, and then we will get our things together and leave quietly". The seat belt signs went off, and we tried to keep our heads down. The poor, poor people who had been sitting around us must have been desperate to get off.

Then came an announcement. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we have had a medical emergency on board, and we would ask that you sit down, until we have evacuated the emergency thank you".

I thought to myself, "Oh my god, the poor females (for it was all females), have had a heart attack victim or similar while my two have been chucking up, what a nightmare flight". And we sat there, heads bowed, while the Ambulance men came on board. And cringed further into our seats when they stopped at our seats, and said, "let the children come to us first ma'am".

"OH My God", We were the medical emergency. I got up, staggered to the front of the plane, where we were met by representatives of the Airline (Continental), the Airport, and Security. They wheeked us down the stairs and into the back of an Ambulance and we were wheeked to Paisley Royal.

The Kids Loved it!! Meee Maaaahhhss Going. What a way to exit the airport!

Me - I threw up in the back of the Ambulance! And Mum was raging that she hadn't thought to buy excess duty free since her and Si got wheeked thru Customs by security so that they could get to the hospital for us.

Damn Planes!