Traveling is the WORST
Jun. 29th, 2015 07:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chocolatepotI felt like I needed to sleep in, but my body did not sleep in, so I'm going to warily accept that and make myself go to bed early tonight.
So let me describe my crazy train adventure this weekend. I went down to the Manhattan area for Julie's mother-in-law's bridal shower and her own bachelorette party (I can now admit that the project I couldn't talk about was a pair of knitted garters for her), driving down to Syracuse, taking the train to Penn, and getting something to New Jersey. This worked well - I got up very early and it was many hours of travel, but as usual when taking a train there's a great sense of relief that I don't have to be in charge and can just sit back, even if it's for six hours. I did get a little verklempt at Port Authority because, well, it's an overwhelming place especially if you can't figure out what you're supposed to do. I had walked most of the way in, realized that I'd found the number of the line I wanted but wasn't really sure of what company ran it - it's kind of obvious that it was NJ Transit in retrospect, but there's so much going on there that I was confused - walked back out to the information guy to get that info, walked back to the NJ Transit machines, remembered that I had their app, started to buy myself a ticket with it, had to put in my credit card information in a pay phone booth which was awkward, realized that you can only buy month tickets with the app, went to a machine and got the proper ticket, found the gate, found the long line at the gate, watched most of the rest of the line fill up the bus, waited for the next bus, thought an old guy was trying to cut in line ahead of me, visualized how I was going to confront him when he actually did it, watched him not cut and breathed a sigh of relief, got on the bus and sat down, listened to these two loud children for almost the whole ride (oh my god, it was incredible, first this woman - who had wanted to get on the first bus in standing room, acting like there probably was standing room in it that people were turning down or something, it was weird - wanted to give up her seat to them (she just really wanted to stand, I guess) and the boy was not having it, but his mom made him sit, and the girl had all the receipts from the bus driver and there were issues with someone stepping on them, sitting on her dress, etc.). But that was relatively short and when it was over it was over. I got to the party and I had a great time!
In retrospect, this was all very simple.
I got to Penn easily at about 10 yesterday morning. It took a few blocks of walking up 6th to get a cab, but the guy was listening to music and didn't want to chat, which was great. I'd planned to get some pastries for breakfast in the station and take it on the train, waiting until the cafe car was open so I could get some tea, and then I could curl up on the seat with pastries and tea and either The Politics of Fashion in Eighteenth Century America (great book, btw, although I think she academicizes a little too much at times) or my Eliza Haywood novel, The Fortunate Foundlings (which is REALLY Jacobite, part is set in France and the Old Pretender is described several times as ~so handsome~ and ~so noble~ - I guess that was allowed before 1745?). I have a Thing about having the proper setting for meals. I like them to be positive experiences in all ways. My life is my art.
It was a little confusing finding the gate, but I got there and got on. We eventually started to pull out of the station, and had gotten into the "creepy dark tunnels" area when we stopped. Apparently the engine's compressor was shot and leaking oil everywhere. We sat there about an hour and a half waiting for an engine to pull us back past the platforms, and then we waited some more in the bowels of Penn for the train just going to Albany to attach to us and be ready to depart on its schedule (another hour and a half).
Once we got going, I wondered what they would be doing to make up for three hours sitting in the station, some of the time without the air or lights on, much of it without wifi or phone service. The answer: tiny snack packs. TINY. SNACK PACKS. This was especially distressing to me because I'd planned to get just a little snack in the early afternoon and have food for real after I got off - but when you push the departure to 1:30 and, taking another hour's break in Albany to wait for a new engine as the first was meant to come back to Penn after Albany, make most of the passengers wait to leave the rolling hell until 8, you're making everyone feel they have to have an actual meal. A lot of people went to the cafe car after we finally got underway, including me (but I'd already eaten my pastries, sadness - did realize I had a teabag and so got hot water for free and no food), but later on I think we were all starving but unwilling to give Amtrak any more money. I didn't see any more meals in my car. I ended up trying to go to a pizzeria Google said was still open on my drive home from Syracuse, but it was not open (and had clearly been sold and renamed, screw you, Google), so I went to a Dunkin Donuts and got the MOST DISGUSTING chicken and biscuit and hash browns in existence, which I couldn't finish, plus a coolatta because I make poor decisions when upset. I should have just got a donut but no, if I get a donut I'll feel bad later for not getting something substantial. You see why I'm weird about having my meals just right, when I don't things always go very wrong.
I basically got home, changed, brushed my teeth, and went to bed after that. It was rough. I didn't eat much for two days, but everything I ate was wildly bad for me, so I guess it balances out. But I did find that the not-frumpy dress is perfect for traveling! It doesn't crease too much, and the full skirt helps keep you warm when there's cold air blowing.
My fridge is emptyyyyyyy.
So let me describe my crazy train adventure this weekend. I went down to the Manhattan area for Julie's mother-in-law's bridal shower and her own bachelorette party (I can now admit that the project I couldn't talk about was a pair of knitted garters for her), driving down to Syracuse, taking the train to Penn, and getting something to New Jersey. This worked well - I got up very early and it was many hours of travel, but as usual when taking a train there's a great sense of relief that I don't have to be in charge and can just sit back, even if it's for six hours. I did get a little verklempt at Port Authority because, well, it's an overwhelming place especially if you can't figure out what you're supposed to do. I had walked most of the way in, realized that I'd found the number of the line I wanted but wasn't really sure of what company ran it - it's kind of obvious that it was NJ Transit in retrospect, but there's so much going on there that I was confused - walked back out to the information guy to get that info, walked back to the NJ Transit machines, remembered that I had their app, started to buy myself a ticket with it, had to put in my credit card information in a pay phone booth which was awkward, realized that you can only buy month tickets with the app, went to a machine and got the proper ticket, found the gate, found the long line at the gate, watched most of the rest of the line fill up the bus, waited for the next bus, thought an old guy was trying to cut in line ahead of me, visualized how I was going to confront him when he actually did it, watched him not cut and breathed a sigh of relief, got on the bus and sat down, listened to these two loud children for almost the whole ride (oh my god, it was incredible, first this woman - who had wanted to get on the first bus in standing room, acting like there probably was standing room in it that people were turning down or something, it was weird - wanted to give up her seat to them (she just really wanted to stand, I guess) and the boy was not having it, but his mom made him sit, and the girl had all the receipts from the bus driver and there were issues with someone stepping on them, sitting on her dress, etc.). But that was relatively short and when it was over it was over. I got to the party and I had a great time!
In retrospect, this was all very simple.
I got to Penn easily at about 10 yesterday morning. It took a few blocks of walking up 6th to get a cab, but the guy was listening to music and didn't want to chat, which was great. I'd planned to get some pastries for breakfast in the station and take it on the train, waiting until the cafe car was open so I could get some tea, and then I could curl up on the seat with pastries and tea and either The Politics of Fashion in Eighteenth Century America (great book, btw, although I think she academicizes a little too much at times) or my Eliza Haywood novel, The Fortunate Foundlings (which is REALLY Jacobite, part is set in France and the Old Pretender is described several times as ~so handsome~ and ~so noble~ - I guess that was allowed before 1745?). I have a Thing about having the proper setting for meals. I like them to be positive experiences in all ways. My life is my art.
It was a little confusing finding the gate, but I got there and got on. We eventually started to pull out of the station, and had gotten into the "creepy dark tunnels" area when we stopped. Apparently the engine's compressor was shot and leaking oil everywhere. We sat there about an hour and a half waiting for an engine to pull us back past the platforms, and then we waited some more in the bowels of Penn for the train just going to Albany to attach to us and be ready to depart on its schedule (another hour and a half).
Once we got going, I wondered what they would be doing to make up for three hours sitting in the station, some of the time without the air or lights on, much of it without wifi or phone service. The answer: tiny snack packs. TINY. SNACK PACKS. This was especially distressing to me because I'd planned to get just a little snack in the early afternoon and have food for real after I got off - but when you push the departure to 1:30 and, taking another hour's break in Albany to wait for a new engine as the first was meant to come back to Penn after Albany, make most of the passengers wait to leave the rolling hell until 8, you're making everyone feel they have to have an actual meal. A lot of people went to the cafe car after we finally got underway, including me (but I'd already eaten my pastries, sadness - did realize I had a teabag and so got hot water for free and no food), but later on I think we were all starving but unwilling to give Amtrak any more money. I didn't see any more meals in my car. I ended up trying to go to a pizzeria Google said was still open on my drive home from Syracuse, but it was not open (and had clearly been sold and renamed, screw you, Google), so I went to a Dunkin Donuts and got the MOST DISGUSTING chicken and biscuit and hash browns in existence, which I couldn't finish, plus a coolatta because I make poor decisions when upset. I should have just got a donut but no, if I get a donut I'll feel bad later for not getting something substantial. You see why I'm weird about having my meals just right, when I don't things always go very wrong.
I basically got home, changed, brushed my teeth, and went to bed after that. It was rough. I didn't eat much for two days, but everything I ate was wildly bad for me, so I guess it balances out. But I did find that the not-frumpy dress is perfect for traveling! It doesn't crease too much, and the full skirt helps keep you warm when there's cold air blowing.
My fridge is emptyyyyyyy.
