![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
So, Minneapolis! I've gotten there.
Or specifically, St. Paul. And then I'm going to a hotel that's technically in St. Louis SomethingOrOther. But it all circulates around the creamy Minneapolis center, so there we go. I am deeply and thoroughly looking forward to the Fourth Street Fantasy part of this trip, even if the next leg of transportation is awkward. (Hour and a half on buses, whee!) And I'm already very pleased with the Seeing My Spouse part of this trip.
Getting here was a mixture of the very standard and the slightly exciting. I got to the airport in Austin a good two hours before my flight, and ended up spending the hour pre-flight borrowing a man's faster charger so that my poor battery-dead Kindle could suck up some juice, and talking external batteries, travel experience, and dogs with him. Then right in the middle of a really interesting story about why his latest rescue dog was named Fiona, I caught my last name going past in the middle of an announcement overhead.
And realized I was sitting at a completely empty gate, and my flight was supposed to leave in ten minutes. They'd changed my gate without me noticing, because, hey, conversation! (He told me about Briards he had known, and a German Shepherd he met in Hawai'i that would husk fallen coconuts and then demand to play fetch with them.) I am afraid I was not the model of civility when I went "OH SHIT MY FLIGHT," yanked my Kindle from the wall, got chargers sorted out, and bolted.
I guess now I'll never know why his dog was named Fiona. And I'm curious, too, because it was a sufficiently involved story that I was already pretty invested.
Anyway, the flight in to Chicago (Midway) got in early, and the departing flight was leaving late, and that airport has no outlets in comfortable locations except for the ones blocked by chatting men who WERE NOT EVEN CHARGING THINGS (mutter grumble froth), so I ended up sitting on the tile for half an hour between two doors marked Electrical Closet (respectively) with a few things plugged into an outlet there.
The woman who came by with an enormous broom was very sympathetic. And I wasn't the only person sitting on the floor trying to get stuff charged. Airports really need to catch up with this century.
Anyway. Got to the appropriate airport eventually. Took various trains/trams/buses. Got to the spouse's place, which is very much like living in a series of mini-malls connected by hamster tubes. This whole area is gorgeous, with many little parks and interesting sculptures and nifty architecture.
And now I am stowed away in the rec room of the apartment...thing...(can you call it an apartment building or complex when there's other stuff in the same building?) while trying to figure out how best to get to the hotel for the convention. (Current best option: an hour and a half, two buses, some walking.) Also, playing Animal Crossing, because Animal Crossing.
My goodness but the internet makes a lot of things for me to catch up on when I'm offline for most of a day.
Or specifically, St. Paul. And then I'm going to a hotel that's technically in St. Louis SomethingOrOther. But it all circulates around the creamy Minneapolis center, so there we go. I am deeply and thoroughly looking forward to the Fourth Street Fantasy part of this trip, even if the next leg of transportation is awkward. (Hour and a half on buses, whee!) And I'm already very pleased with the Seeing My Spouse part of this trip.
Getting here was a mixture of the very standard and the slightly exciting. I got to the airport in Austin a good two hours before my flight, and ended up spending the hour pre-flight borrowing a man's faster charger so that my poor battery-dead Kindle could suck up some juice, and talking external batteries, travel experience, and dogs with him. Then right in the middle of a really interesting story about why his latest rescue dog was named Fiona, I caught my last name going past in the middle of an announcement overhead.
And realized I was sitting at a completely empty gate, and my flight was supposed to leave in ten minutes. They'd changed my gate without me noticing, because, hey, conversation! (He told me about Briards he had known, and a German Shepherd he met in Hawai'i that would husk fallen coconuts and then demand to play fetch with them.) I am afraid I was not the model of civility when I went "OH SHIT MY FLIGHT," yanked my Kindle from the wall, got chargers sorted out, and bolted.
I guess now I'll never know why his dog was named Fiona. And I'm curious, too, because it was a sufficiently involved story that I was already pretty invested.
Anyway, the flight in to Chicago (Midway) got in early, and the departing flight was leaving late, and that airport has no outlets in comfortable locations except for the ones blocked by chatting men who WERE NOT EVEN CHARGING THINGS (mutter grumble froth), so I ended up sitting on the tile for half an hour between two doors marked Electrical Closet (respectively) with a few things plugged into an outlet there.
The woman who came by with an enormous broom was very sympathetic. And I wasn't the only person sitting on the floor trying to get stuff charged. Airports really need to catch up with this century.
Anyway. Got to the appropriate airport eventually. Took various trains/trams/buses. Got to the spouse's place, which is very much like living in a series of mini-malls connected by hamster tubes. This whole area is gorgeous, with many little parks and interesting sculptures and nifty architecture.
And now I am stowed away in the rec room of the apartment...thing...(can you call it an apartment building or complex when there's other stuff in the same building?) while trying to figure out how best to get to the hotel for the convention. (Current best option: an hour and a half, two buses, some walking.) Also, playing Animal Crossing, because Animal Crossing.
My goodness but the internet makes a lot of things for me to catch up on when I'm offline for most of a day.