[Seattle, WA to Washington, DC]
It rained the day I left. Out of spite, I'm sure. Washington was sad to see me go. And I have to admit, I was a little sad, too. I liked being with my family, catching up with my friends, remembering all the silly and stupid things I had done when I was younger. Being home for 3 weeks has been a nostalgic experience, if nothing else. I cherish a lot of memories in my hardly-changing hometown, and I have enjoyed the opportunity to reminisce.
Getting on my flight to Washington, DC was one of the most stressful experiences of my life. I got to the airport an hour and a half before my flight, a practice which has never failed me before. But when I got out of the car and saw the massive line in which I would have to wait, my heart started thumping. After waiting in the wrong line for a LONG time, I moved to the correct line and glanced at the clock. My flight was to start boarding at 6:59am. The time was 7:05. Looking at the hoards of people ahead of me, I was sure I was going to miss my flight. BUT!, thank goodness, an airline worker called for anyone on my flight to make it to the front of the line. "Great," I thought. "Nothing to worry about now."
That is, until the man in front of me started raving about how he's going to miss his flight. While he yelled and screamed, I tried my hardest to speak up and get the lady at the front dest to check my dang luggage before it was too late. The man bumped into me pretty hard in the middle of his rant, and I got that feeling in the pit of my stomach again. "There's no way I'm making this flight."
But, in spite of everything, I got my boarding pass and checked my bags without too much delay. Which, quick side note, kind of irritated me. I spent hours the night before making sure neither of my bags weighed more than 50 pounds; it took forever, and I stressed a lot about it. And then they go ahead and check my bags without even weighing them!? That's 3 hours I could have spent sleeping! But I digress.
Making my way to security invited another pit in my stomach. The line was quite extensive, and I realized that I only had 20 minutes before take off. But I waited. And hoped with every bit of energy I could muster that I would make it in time. Going through security didn't take too long. I was pleased to see the clock as I was putting my shoes back on at the end of the line; 15 minutes to get to my gate. I could manage that.
But, of course, it can't be that easy, can it? No, no. I heard this insidious voice behind me ask, "Ma'am, is this suitcase yours?" I was hesitant to reply in the affirmative; I knew what the follow-up question would be. "Would you step over this way please? We have to check some things." Oh, boy. First, they took a little wand and waved it over my computer to make sure it wasn't stowing explosives or whatever. Fine. Then they opened my suitcase, started rifling around in there like it was no big deal. He grabbed my scriptures and said he needed to scan them through the machine on their own. My scriptures? Really? He said that it's always the Book of Mormon that causes problems. I laughed at the irony.
In the end, it was actually a package of play-dough that I'd stowed under my scriptures that posed the problem. Good, that was taken care of. 10 minutes to get to the gate. I ran to the train, almost got sliced in half by the doors as they closed, ran to my gate, and made it on the plane with minutes to spare. As I scanned the plane, I saw my old friend from earlier that day, the yeller. Glad to see his hissy fit paid off.
The flight itself was rather pleasant. I stayed up the first hour or so reading and waiting for the flight attendants to bring around drinks so I could get some ice water (which has recently become my only vice; life without iced beverages is going to be more difficult that I thought). And I slept like a baby the other 4 hours, despite the pilot's incessant announcements about seatbelts. I swear, that guy flip-flopped at least half a dozen times. "Wear your seatbelt. Okay, take it off. Wait, buckle up again. No, not necessary anymore." And each time he made an announcement, the flight attendant came around and made sure everyone knew. I might have nightmares about this woman's squeaky voice declaring, "Seatbelts! Buckle your seatbelts! SEATBELTS!!"
In any case, I made it to Washington, DC okay, though my tailbone hurt like a mother when I stood up. It still smarts a little bit. I hope the flight to Frankfurt doesn't irriate it. I'm currently sitting at my terminal, listening to rude people yell at the airline workers and writing about my travels so far. It certainly has been an adventure. And I'm not even half way done!
Well, there's half an hour before my flight boards, so I think I'm going to get some Starbucks. I might as well use my cash while I can; it's gonna be useless to me in a few hours.
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