Is it a sign of getting old that I’m grateful for a lengthy layover? Or does it mean that I’m still young at heart? Or neither, and I’m just happy to charge my electronics? Ha.
It is completely unrealistic to think that I will write every day, and, like AK said, if I am writing every day, I am NOT having enough fun. But, I do have this 3 hour layover, and the day of departure is pretty significant, so why not make the most of it.
Leaving, of course, was a dramatic, hectic, frantic, stressful affair. Despite putting all of my tasks into my calendar and being “ahead of schedule” by the time I hopped in the shower, unforeseen circumstances, as always, arose. Mom came home and started packing things we forgot to pack, packing and repacking my carry ons. She’s super woman, really. The amount of stuff she can fit into one little suitcase is astounding. I should have taken before and after pictures of the complete train wreck my room was prior to her using her powers, and the three neatly packed, ready to go bags that ended up in my trunk. Its remarkable. Sitting here now, though, I’m pretty sure the jewelry I stuffed into plastic bags at the last minute and my straightener are still sitting on my bed. Oh well. They’re not exactly crucial to my survival over the next 2 months.
Grandma came over and, while sitting in my room and being in my mom’s way, asked if I needed to bring a charger – she didn’t specify for what. This set of complete panic in my head that I had ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA where my camera battery charger was. Within 3 minutes, all of us: me, mom, grandma, stepdad, brother, and sholem, were milling between my room and Mark’s room, looking in every plug, opening every drawer, and then searching the internet. I don’t know what I would do without my family. Not even 45 minutes later, I was on the road with a brand new Sony Cybershot, twice the quality and half the price of my Canon. Happy early birthday to me! Those 45 minutes were crazy frantic, but at least everyone got to feel useful! ( I have just realized that I must have forgotten the USB cable in the car, because I cannot find it. So, until someone mails it to me, I will have no way of uploading pictures to my computer. Brilliant Kate. Brilliant! It had to be something)
Saying goodbye, however, was another story. Nothing sets me off into tears like seeing my mom cry. Seeing anyone cry, really, upsets me, but my mom is a whole other story. I think Mark was pretty upset too, but he doesn’t know how to show it. The whole thing was just uncomfortable and sad and emotional and really, the moment of reality hitting that I am leaving everyone I love very far behind. As Sholem pointed out, of course, most things will not change, especially when I come home in six months. The biggest change will be in me. I know that’s true, but this will be the first time I am alone for such a long time, without a consistent base of people. Once I settle in Barcelona, I will start developing my new life, but the next 2 months, I’m pretty much on my own. And that is very, very, VERY new. I’m glad its happening, but it’s still terrifying.
Now, some comment worthy details of my flight:
1. Air Berlin, while not providing individual entertainment screens, DOES provide little overnight flight kits! I thought airlines stopped doing that years ago. The kit included a toothbrush, toothpaste, socks, and eyepatch, and ear plugs! I didn’t use any of it but still, I appreciate these small things. They, unlike my US airways flights last month, make you feel like at least they’re making an EFFORT to make flying for 11 hours not suck.
2. Two very interesting families sitting next to me.
a. The first family was Italian, with a dad that looked like a middle aged, overweight Fabio. I’m not sure what the composition of the family was: there was one young guy, probably a little younger than me, and then 4 children, 3 boys and one girl. I got the feeling that one of the boys and the older guy were not actually both parent’s children, but it was hard to say. The two youngest were very loud, and very annoying, but their dad didn’t seem to think so. He just grinned at them and patted their heads and catered to their every need. I don’t get it.
b. The other family was even more interesting. The mom couldn’t have been much older than me, maybe 30, with tanned skin and my coloring. The dad was very Swiss/German looking. They had 7 children with them, 2 of which were clearly adopted, since they were ADORABLE little black boys with curly hair. Still, it didn’t explain the other 5. The oldest was a girl probably 12 or 13, and there were 3 more bleach blond boys and another little girl. I simply don’t understand. There is no way that woman, who was consequently 6 or 7 months pregnant, had all those children. And why, with all those children, would you also adopt two African babies? Nothing about their get up implied that they were fabulously rich and emulating Brad and Angelina. And if they weren’t all their children, why in the WORLD, and for what amount of money, are they traveling with seven children that aren’t theirs?
3. Dusseldorf’s airport is not going to make my list of top favorites. First of all, I hate airports where I’m bussed in from the airplane. I can’t tell you why, exactly, but it brings up unpleasant feelings. Maybe it reminds me of our immigration, I don’t know, but I hate every moment on that shuttle. Second of all, I’ve never experienced an airport with so many required stairs with no options of escalators. Hello, people are traveling with heavy, roll-y suitcases. Why would you ONLY put stairs? A lot of these mandatory staircases didn’t seem to have an elevator anywhere in sight, either. Are they assuming handicapped people don’t travel and are they trying to send a message to parents with strollers to leave their children at home? I lost my shoes TWICE while walking up these stairs with my polka dotted tub. If my brother had been there to witness it, he would have been on the floor laughing. I drag the suitcase up the staircase, only to lose one shoe when I finally get to the top. I have to rotate to put it back on, and step down a stair. Once I put that shoe on and step back up, somehow, somehow, don’t ask me how, I manage to lose the other shoe, only this one flips over, and I have to repeat the whole operation. I doubt it would be funny to anyone but him. Finally, there’s no free wifi. Come on airports of the world! Get with the program!
I took pictures of my cute little polka dotted tub, and the nifty little case that Air Berlin provided me, but, as I have just realized that I am USB-Cable less for my camera, these pictures will not make it to this blog for at least a month! Not that they’re particularly interesting, but neither is any part of this particular blog entry…so…I guess I shouldn’t really care. The memory card is 2 gigs and there’s no way I’ll take 586 pictures worthy of keeping before my mom mails me the cord…won’t she be thrilled!
I did sleep on the plane for about 3 hours, which, when I woke up, felt sufficient, but now that I’ve been sitting here for an hour, my body has remember that its 6am, and not 3pm, and I’m getting tired and pretty unhappy. My gate still isn’t posted, so its not really time to move yet. Aaaand I’m over to listening to all the German around me. Time to finish my episode of Sopranos. Good thing I downloaded two seasons!!
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