I hate my national airline.

Seriously.  Aer Lingus is just rubbish.  I’m sitting here in Cork waiting for a flight that will end up having been delayed at least two hours.  It takes 45 minutes to get to London.  So, my well-planned trip might turn into a complete disaster.  There has been no attempt at a sincere apology and nobody is taking care of us.  I mean, I may as well fly American Airlines! Oh, wait…

I’m too irritated to grade, unless I give the poor twenty people unfair marks I’d only have to change anyway.  So I thought I’d come online and write a meaningless post.

Some points:

  • I’m glad there have been protests against the Olympic torch relay in London, and Seb Coe’s statements that the relay is about Olympic ideals is fairly disgusting. 
  • I’m going to write a post tomorrow about culchies.  They are a fascinating phenomenon.
  • I can’t stand airlines and their consistent abrogation of anything even approaching acceptable customer service (like, really).
  • Flying thousands of miles to go home for the weekend is awesome, but I don’t really recommend it.  Here’s hoping I get the grading itch on the flight to Chicago.  If I make it.

I have to switch terminals in Heathrow and go through British security, which, incidentally, is a Nazi-inspired caricature of the quasi-fictional forces from Children of Men.  I had to change bags this morning to accomodate a box of chocolates because I don’t feel like being verbally abused and conceivably shot. 

I am Irish, you know.  They don’t forget that stuff.


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