Friday, October 9, 2015

Don't you just hate goodbyes?

My dear Dan,

I'm soaring through the skies at 37,999 feet and .86 Mach speed. You must be flying over Utah right now and I'm so grateful I got to say bye to you right at the gate. How funny that we're both flying in the air right now but in different places.

Børns is reminding me that I've been struck hard - by your Electric Love.

Mew got it wrong: I don't just love goodbyes. I don't know why they're so hard, perhaps the uncertainty of them is what pains me.

The person across from me just watched Interstellar and the person next to me looks vividly unwell. I tried to give him my cheese, but he's been sleeping and smelling of Vicks the whole time. I negotiated a vegetarian meal, but it turned out the choice was between ravioli  (made on Monday according to the packaging) and chicken. So in went two Lactaids followed by cheesy meff and salted caramel gelato (yes yes). Now my tummy's like, "Whoa, girl! Lactaid is just an enzyme, not a magic pill!" Lesson learned, digestive track.

I looked for some X-Files to watch while eating, but found True Detective instead. Between trying to figure out which trench in the Pacific Ocean we're currently flying over and what happened to this girl on the show, my time is flying with me. I even proudly and successfully located the outlet to power my laptop so I could get some reading done.

I'm also entertaining myself by wagering against myself how much longer I can keep asking for cans of drinks to avoid plastic cups and ensure larger quantities of tomato juice delight. I have seen one person with a face mask and two people brush right after their lunch. Very conscientious travelers so far! Also I happily watched one elderly man with the sweetest smile until I'm positive I creeped him out. His blog post ought to say - very creepy travelers so far.  On a similar joyful note, this plane has an awesome toilet. I get trying to conserve water, but if it's already not cruel enough to be crammed in the tiniest toilet with a super sonic jet flush trying to steal your insides, most airplane toilets boast reproachable faucets and sinks. You know the ones I mean - the ones that make you feel like you have the most grossly gigantic hands in their tiny enclosure. Furthermore, they have those annoying "push this stupid thing to get water, but oh, forgot to mention, you have to keep holding it to get running water" faucets. Not this toilet, no! Automatic faucet (only runs for about 4 seconds at a time - not bad to help conserve water), automatically shutting toilet seat lid, and [hold on to your pants] automatic (and not frighteningly loud!) flush! I bow with respect at this queen of toilets above 30k feet.

The map says I am 1,497 miles away from you. How's that even possible?? You're right here in my heart pocket.

See you in Japan, my love.


P.S.- the guy next to me gave me a stick of gum and then went back to sleep.

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