On the way:
I hate flying alone. Correction. I don't mind the flying part, but the part where I myself am responsible to keep track of all my stuff and figure out which concord to take and how to make sure I'll make it to my gate on time and even if it is the right gate, that's what makes me nervous. For days beforehand. The actual flying part, the part where the plane accelerates super quick as if it's a race, the snowy landscape below stretching out for miles all around, the miniature buildings and vehicles and roadways that seems like I could just reach down and rearrange as if I was a kid again, the part where you can feel the wheels touch ground and the sudden braking of the plane as if it was going to crash something, that I don't mind doing by myself. It's all too awe inspiring to stress about. But then- the crowds, the crush of people and the noisy chatter and the many colors of signs and the stores selling different variations of the same items and the many loudspeakers announcing different things and the race against time to get from one gate to the next, from one terminal to the next just in time to board, and then standing in the squished middle aisle of the plane, trying to get your bag shoved into the overhead compartments somewhere close to you. Those things could stress me out for days beforehand. Not to mention having to think about getting covid tests and making sure those documents are all in order.
I did get stressed out. Especially because I was gone last weekend and left almost everything til last minute. But then, suddenly everything falls into place, people are super nice about giving me calls in between work, the covid test lady is talkative and gives me hints and tips, my bags are not super full (unusual!) and I even get to play hockey yet.
This trip might turn out fine afterall.
On the way back:
'Write a blog post,' said one voice. 'Read that certain book,' said another. 'People watch,' said yet another inaudible voice. And what did she do? She walked down the concourse with someone she had just recently met, til they had to part ways so one could leave the massive building and world of long concourses and big screens and lots of people wearing masks. She went and an iced caramel latte that was not even delicious and ambled around a few stores and back down the concourse before finding an empty chair in a relatively quiet place to sit down on. And then, she pulled out her book. But because she kept looking up at the people walking by, she didn't get much read. She pulled out her phone 'I'm bored,' she messaged one of her friends, who soon replied with some drama of her own. But still, that first voice kept nagging her. 'Hey. Now is a perfect time to write that post. You've got an empty gap of time that you need to fill up. Look around you, and you could find any number of things to write about.' Sometimes the voice was inaudible, in her mind, someimes it sounded like that of her sister's, who made the same comment a few weeks back. 'Hey, you haven't written a blog post in a while. You should start again.' Oh, but sister. I don't have the time. I don't feel like I have anything worthy to write about. My creative writing juices have all run out on me. I want to spend time with Kiddo instead of writing something that won't make any difference to anyone's day or life.
Excuses. Maybe good ones, but still excuses.
I was a bit stressed about the thing that they stick up your nose that dictates whether you can fly or you have to stay home. There were all sorts of documents that needed to be filled out on different apps and websites, pictures or QR codes to upload. Not to mention having to navigate airports, and the fact that I do not appreciate flying alone. And that was just before I had to go to a place crawling with excited, dramatic people of whom I only really knew about 8 of. I questioned myself a few times why I wanted to do this to myself. And if it was really worth it.
But then, as I was struggling thru the list of things I had to get done yet, in between working, the day before I was to leave, suddenly the world decided to be nice to me. The one lady called right on time and got everything cleared up super fast, and was super nice about it, and it was a lot cheaper than I had expected. I got to the next stop in my day and I was kicking myself for not having the right documents with me. 'Do you have a picture of it?' the lady asked. And I was relieved to find out that a picture worked just fine, and pleased when she offered kindness and a few tips on what I was about to embark on.
Things kept going on like that. I suddenly found out a few days before hand that a good friend was going to be attending the same event. I got to play a good game of hockey the evening before I left. I made my connecting flight, even though I walked off the place, basically ran down the halls and stepped right into line to board my next flight. I had a great time at the event with the people I knew, made some new acquaintances, and was the recipient of some great hospitality. When it was time to leave, I again had to have that fuzzy stick up my nose, and again, the lady who did it was kind and reassuring and said the unknowns would be all right. And so far they have been.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this post. Maybe just updating you on my life. Maybe also thinking about a those cute wooden signs and stereotypical earth colored sweatshirts that say 'Be kind' on them. I would add the words 'Be cheerful' to the motto. If those people who called me, or stuck fuzzy, pointy things up my nose, or made me feel at home, or helped me in some way or other would have been grouchy to me, or made me feel like I shouldn't be where I was, I would probably have a headache right now, and wouldn't think the weekend was such a success.
I'm not going to go out and buy a sweatshirt and browser those 4 words on it. But I'm going to try to be like those people.
Also, have you ever wondered how the all the rug in airports gets cleaned? I'm not sure this is normally how it's done, but I saw a lady with a vacuum on one long concourse today.