We flew past Las Vegas not long ago, and the flight has reached a point quiet and boring enough that I feel like writing...
My parents and my boyfriend saw me off at the airport. They stood outside the security area until they couldn't see me anymore, occasionally trading waves, winks, kisses and smiles across the queue.
I have my grandfather's drafting tools and my amazing scaled dividers (another drafting tool) in my carry-on bag so that they won't get lost if my luggage does. Security wanted to see them, as they had in an airport in Japan, but there were no other problems. The scaled dividers looked like a knife in a case on the screen, so I really don't blame them for wanting to open up the box.
I have the best seat on this airplane - the window seat in the last row. I get to see everything, lean on the wall to sleep, and no one will be kicking my chair. Jeff's big gray sweatshirt is accompanying my journey and will serve as a pillow when I finally decide to sleep.
(Picture out airplane window; that's the moon, not the sun.)
The man sitting next to me is from Switzerland, so we have had enough to talk about. His main language is French, and he works in Switzerland for a company based in San Diego. He was in LA for training, and says that English would be easier to learn if he could ever be there for more than a week or two at a time. Scudellate, the town where I will be staying, is so small that he's never heard of it. He even asked me if I'm sure it's in Switzerland.
We are about to fly near Richfield. I am glad I will be asleep for most of the oversea portion of this trip. While I know that we are high enough that crashing on land or water won't make any difference, something makes me feel more comfortable knowing I'm over land.
No comments:
Post a Comment