Observations from the Airport
I've been quite the domestic traveler this past year, and I've logged some serious frequent flyer miles, yet my intense fear of flying never seems to lessen, regardless of how frequently I fly. Aside from the fact that I absolutely hate the act of flying itself, I do really love the airport- mostly because I love people watching. I've started carrying a notebook with me where ever I go so I can capture the absurd thoughts that go through my head, and here's what I jotted down this past weekend when I was on my way to Michigan for MSU Homecoming.
Suzie
"I am 26 years old and I still fly with a doll in my backpack which I have owned since Christmas of 1983. There is something about my childhood- crazy, frighteningly unconventional as it may have been- that I just refuse to give up entirely. Is it weird that I am not even the slightest bit ashamed of the plastic baby wearing a pink hand made dress and matching bonnet draped over her blonde Don King hairdoo which is boldly bisible every time I open my bag to retrieve something?"
Terrorists and Chapstick
"Terrorists must be behind the idea of chapstick. Fear has risen to the level in the United States that we can no longer bring liquids of any kind, or apparently substances which, when combined with intense body heat in your back pocket, prove to be of a gelatenous consistency, such as chapstick. You cannot bring chapstick or lip balms onto planes in your carry on luggage any longer, but they still sell it at the convenience stands on the other side of security. So, it follows, if you are departing on a weekend trip, you must consume all of your chapstick because once you leave the plane, your chapstick is no longer welcome in any other airport past the ticket counter. Lube up, America! I don't buy it. So here I sit with incredibly dry lips because I refuse to pay for another one of Osama Bin Ladin's stylish turbins via dirty chapstick money! Im on to you!"
Books: Not just for propping stuff up anymore
Ever since people stopped telling me what to read, I have come to realize that books are not the Devil, as I had convinced myself for the first 24-ish years of my life. Somehow, I always know which books are going to be my kind of book, and my latest discovery (albeit a little late, since it was originally published in 2003) is Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, by Chuck Klosterman, which I picked up at Laguardia Apirport before my flight Friday night. Though I am only 100 pages into the book so far, I can already tell you that this is going to be one of my favorites! I'll wait till I'm actually finished with the whole thing before I give you my full review, but in the meantime, look it up, buy it, and peruse. Its a witty, ridiculous, and insightful commentary on pop culture.
Suzie
"I am 26 years old and I still fly with a doll in my backpack which I have owned since Christmas of 1983. There is something about my childhood- crazy, frighteningly unconventional as it may have been- that I just refuse to give up entirely. Is it weird that I am not even the slightest bit ashamed of the plastic baby wearing a pink hand made dress and matching bonnet draped over her blonde Don King hairdoo which is boldly bisible every time I open my bag to retrieve something?"
Terrorists and Chapstick
"Terrorists must be behind the idea of chapstick. Fear has risen to the level in the United States that we can no longer bring liquids of any kind, or apparently substances which, when combined with intense body heat in your back pocket, prove to be of a gelatenous consistency, such as chapstick. You cannot bring chapstick or lip balms onto planes in your carry on luggage any longer, but they still sell it at the convenience stands on the other side of security. So, it follows, if you are departing on a weekend trip, you must consume all of your chapstick because once you leave the plane, your chapstick is no longer welcome in any other airport past the ticket counter. Lube up, America! I don't buy it. So here I sit with incredibly dry lips because I refuse to pay for another one of Osama Bin Ladin's stylish turbins via dirty chapstick money! Im on to you!"
Books: Not just for propping stuff up anymore
Ever since people stopped telling me what to read, I have come to realize that books are not the Devil, as I had convinced myself for the first 24-ish years of my life. Somehow, I always know which books are going to be my kind of book, and my latest discovery (albeit a little late, since it was originally published in 2003) is Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, by Chuck Klosterman, which I picked up at Laguardia Apirport before my flight Friday night. Though I am only 100 pages into the book so far, I can already tell you that this is going to be one of my favorites! I'll wait till I'm actually finished with the whole thing before I give you my full review, but in the meantime, look it up, buy it, and peruse. Its a witty, ridiculous, and insightful commentary on pop culture.
Random Thought on the Plane:
"The Russian guy next to me has an unhealthy obsession with prompt collection of service items."
Cure for extreme aero-phobia:
1 tiny bottle of Chilean Savignon Blanc (prep by having a small lunch and no dinner)
1 ipod set to all Pearl Jam shuffle
1 copy of Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs
"Magic words = we have started our initial descent. After that, nothing else matters!"
posted by Talia
@
2:20 PM
1 Comments:
At 3:22 PM ,
Anonymous said...