[Breakfast: blueberry scone and a latte]

The last big trip I’d taken to Europe spoiled me. I had long layovers that got me the Exit row seats, so I could pretend I wasn’t in Coach. This was especially easy when flying Air France, because they have excellent food. This time I flew Virgin. There weren’t any Exit row seats left, and they cost an extra $75. I assume that insures one against not having to perform Exit row duties if the plane crashes.

DK and I were one row behind the Exit row. I was already feeling cramped because there was a pole that divided my leg and carry-on luggage room. DK offered to switch seats (he’s such a gentleman!) but I didn’t feel like having to chat with the guy in the window seat. DK is better at ignoring people. Anyway, I always need to sit in the aisle seat so I have easy access to the bathroom. I drink a lot of water on planes.

We realized that there was a row of bulkhead seats that were available and politely inquired about a seat change. The flight attendant said we were free to move there after the "fasten your seatbelts" sign went off. Minutes later we overheard the older man in the aisle seat of the Exit row angling for the same seats. WTF? Oldie even threw his sweater over one of the seats. DK and I were so busy making sarky comments about him that it took a few minutes for us to realize that a middle-aged couple had risked unbuckling their seatbelts and had snuck into two of the seats. Oldie told on them, and they had to move. We decided that we’d save Oldie a seat, too.

DK told me that I had to get the seats as soon as the seatbelt sign came off. He was watching the sign for me, but I wanted to relax and read British Vogue. I switched seats with him and happily read my magazine after exchanging a few pleasantries with Eric, the window seat passenger. (He wasn’t that bad) DK was in stealth mode, but the damn sign was not coming off. Then, out of nowhere the middle-aged couple was back sitting in our prized seats. It was another 10 minutes before the sign came off. DK lunged for the remaining seats just as a flight attendant was ushering a couple to them. Their audio equipment wasn’t working- STFU! We all voiced our outrage about the other couple cheating and endangering themselves and other passengers (Oldie said the latter) to get the seats that we deserved, but the flight attendant didn’t care. BTW: The couple wasn’t American or British—they were German.

We decided to drown our sorrows in film. Virgin has interactive video on demand—the best. A lot of their movies were still out in theatres. The only problem was that I had seen 95% of them. After my difficult day, I decided to go for something fluffy: Bridget Jones's Diary- The Edge of Reason. I watched the first 20 minutes and skimmed through the rest of the film—it was tres dull. Mark Darcy was such a loser—why didn’t Bridget leave him already? And Bridget was whiny and had no spine. Later I actually watched Being Julia. It was pretty good, but I decided that Annette Bening overacts and is overrated. Why is she beyond conceited when she can't even act in a cinematic style? Of course this was the one movie that suited her theatrical style. I wanted to kill her after her speech at the Golden Globes. Sources have told me that she's a drama queen--yeah, Annette, stick to the theatre.

DK and I made-out, read, and ate for the rest of the flight-- I was smart and brought fruit leathers, "good" trail mix and chocolate with me.

Note: We did not sleep