Betty Blogger

Last week I hopped a Virgin America flight from Los Angeles to New York, a trek I've made a million times. I savor those five hours of escape, where I can watch junky reality TV (Tori and Dean marathon, anyone?) order platters of food from a touch screen (Virgin is such an enabler) and impress my seatmates with an assumed identity (just call me a Norwegian countess with a book deal).

This particular flight was especially great for two reasons:

1) Just before boarding, the gate agent offered to switch me to an exit row with extra leg room. Since I'm 5'4", my legs got upgraded to their own zip code.

2) The flight was unreasonably smooth and quiet; nary a bump or baby shriek on radar.