New fad: Magic (feat. Rivers Cuomo) by B.o.B.
I've been on the mind-boggling adventure of packing all day today. I'm so glad to say, at 11:22 pm, I'm finally done.
My flight leaves at 8:10 tomorrow morning so I have to, naturally, get up hours before then so I can be at the airport by seven o'clock! Wonderful.
I'm going to Florida to visit my sister.... and I can honestly say I probably won't sleep a wink tonight, because I'm too excited. :)
It's almost like I'm going to Disneyland.... Only better. I would say it's even better than Christmas..... But not much comes close to Christmas. Except for Thanksgiving. I'm sort of a holiday junkie.....A closet holiday junkie, that is, of course. I do know how to keep my obessions somewhat in check. :)
So. I'm flying tomorrow! I haven't flown anywhere in.... well, since last summer. (I know that doesn't seem like that long, but trust me. With my track record, going a whole year without flying is sort of incredible. And I mean that in the most non-bragging way, of course.)
I've flown so much in the past six years that I'd gotten quite burnt out on it. I hated it. I still do, honestly. But I am getting somewhat excited to be in the air again.... even though I hate heights. Weird, isn't it? I'm the girl that can't go on a ferris wheel without having a minor internal freak-out, but I can fly 36,000 feet in the air without a second thought. Until we go over water, that is, then I start to doubt the pilot's abilities. I hate flying over water. The idea of crashing on land is so much more comforting to me than crashing in the ocean. I know that doesn't make any sense. But not much in my mind does make sense, so, this is just how I deal with my inconsistencies. I also get nervous with turbulence. I'm really not a fan of being rocked back and forth and dropped a few feet every now and then when I'm miles above land. Or sea. Some people like it though.They think it's fun, and I'm pretty sure it gives them a weird sort of rush. Crazies.
I do love the feeling of airports in the early morning, though. There's such a rush of excitement in the air, and as you stand in line at Starbucks waiting to purchase your iced white moca and a toasted chonga bagel with cream cheese (Airport breakfast staple), you can't help but feel a sort of thrill building inside of you as you look around the busy terminal. Travelers are trying their hardest to get through security in a quick and efficient manner, which of course results in mass chaos, and there's always somebody being searched because they forgot to take off a pair of cuff links, or a pair of earrings, and now they're standing incredibly disgruntled with arms out and legs askew. Then there's the odd lost child, screaming and screaming and screaming, and you almost take pity until the mother swoops down from somewhere above, yelling in a foreign language and you stop feeling pity and then grow increasingly annoyed at how long it took that mother to notice their child was screaming, and also at how long it is taking the barista to make your very simple iced white mocha.
Once united with your airport breakfast of champions, you head out to find your gate. Dawdling along at a snail's pace (because, of course, you're there unneccessarily early) you wander past all the lovely shops and the restaurants that haven't opened yet. Tired old men are waiting for their wives outside of restrooms, and there's always a lively and excited bunch of people waiting at the international gate for their flight to new and distant destinations.
You find your temporary destination: the newsstand. You take a quick jaunt around the shelves, careful not to spill your coffee on any of the overpriced magazines, grab a few that you probably won't end up reading, and purchase them and any other last minute trinkets that will, as soon as you land, prove themselves to be utterly and completely useless to your vacation. It's time to head to your gate. Reaching it, you automatically check to make sure the flight is on time, it almost always is in the early morning. You can count on that. :)
Looking around, you find not only an empty chair, but an entire empty row of chairs, because nobody wants to sit across from somebody else's Great Aunt Bertha at 7:30 in the morning. Then, you consume your breakfast. Constantly you check your phone to make sure the time is appropriate in relation to your departure. Your foot won't stop tapping. You don't listen to your iPod for fear of missing the boarding call. Over and over again you check your bag to make sure you are in full possession of each boarding pass. Then you check to make sure you haven't lost your ID. Everything boils down to the final moment when you hear the flight attendant's cool, collected voice over the speaker, "We are now boarding flight #...." And then you wait your turn, and as soon as you hand over your boarding pass and embark down the hallway to the entrance of the plane, you feel a silly sort of accomplishment balloon in your gut. You made it through the beginning. Here's to the adventure that follows!
:)
Before I get into the cabin, I always make sure I touch the outside of the plane for good luck. I'm a tad bit superstitious. Call it destiny, call it fate, call it what you will, I can't help but believe silly little things like touching the outside of the plane will help keep the angels on your side. Irrational, I know, but it's part of the dreamer in me. :)
Well, it's now time for bed, as I have to be up in five hours.
Wish me luck!
I hope I haven't forgotten anything too important.
Cheers. Xx
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