"I'll fly away oh Lord, I'll fly away"

After living in France for 7 months without a trip back to the US, I booked my ticket home for May 4th and it got me to thinkin' that I should blog about my love of airports.

Many people will disagree with me on this sentiment, especially those recently forced to lodge in terminals due to the Icelandic volcanic ash, but I have always had a love of going to the airport because of the excitement, the butterflies I get in my tummy. I usually can't sleep the night before because I am so excited and packing my bags.

Of course, I do have my horrific experiences at the airport: Cut to the scene where I missed my flight from Paris to Munich and shamelessy balled my eyes out for everyone to see and woke up my parents at 5am central time venting my griefs.

 ...And I don't exactly enjoy being on the plane: the smells, the claustrophobia, the weird people sitting next to you.

...but I love everything leading up to getting on the plane.

 When I am at the airport, I feel so, well, cool? Forgive me for using such an anti-climactic, silly term, but the fact that I am even putting words to this confession is embarrassing.Walking through the airport,  I have so much excitement and imagine that other people are thinking, "Ooohhh, where's she off to?" Of course, people do not think this, but I continue to entertain this egocentric view.

My best experiences at airports thus far:

1. On our way home after a family trip in Sanibel Island, my parents come back after talking to the airlines at Ft. Lauderdale airport to tell us that we are re-routing and staying another week in Ft. Lauderdale! 
2. My first plane ride alone at 10 years old to visit my best friend Celeste in Ft. Myers 
3. Going on a father/daughter trip to Chicago, arriving at Nashville airport only to find our flight was delayed. Instead of waiting for the delayed flight, my father came back to tell us that we were going on the next flight to NYC instead (pre-911 restrictions).
4. Volunteering to be the next day-flyer at Charles de Gaulle airport due to an overbooked flight. As a gift from United Airlines, I was put in a 5 star hotel that night with free meals, and flew 1st class the next day. First class should be called "kick ass." 
5. When moving to France, I was worried about how to get on a train from Paris to my little town with all my baggage and lack of knowledge. On my flight over to Paris, I sat next to a lovely French old lady who was going the same place I was. She took care of everything for me!

All Is Fair in Love and War

I told her, "Humans are the only animal that blushes, laughs, has religion, wages war, and kisses with lips. So in a way, the more you kiss with lips, the more human you are."

 

"And the more you wage war?"    

  Then I was the silent one.           



"I met an old lady once, almost one hundred years old, and she told me, 'There are only two questions that human beings have ever fought over, all through history.

How much do you love me? And...

  Who’s in charge?' "  (From Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert)

            "Did you know that in the last 3500 years there have been only 230 years of peace throughout the civilized world?"

            He said, "You tell me which 230 years and I'll believe you!"

 

           "I don't know which, but I know it's true." 

          "And where's this civilized world you're referring to?" 

 

       (first and last quote are from Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer)

"Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" Street Style

Blogs capturing street style. They let me do what I've always wanted to do without seeming like a complete creep...take that second look at the people who catch your eye on the street. The ones you pass you by, wishing you could stare just a little bit longer than "socially acceptable" at their fashion, their walk, their je ne sais quoi.  Who are these people?

"[B]ecause the streets were crowded, I bumped

 into a googolplex people.  Who were they?

Where were they going? What were they

looking for? I wanted to hear their heartbeats,

and I wanted them to hear mine."  

From Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer (one of my all time favorites)

 

Who are these people? What's their story? You both want and don't want to know. It's a paradox, like when you say learning about your favorite actors' personal lives ruins their movies, but you read gossip magazines anyway (or is that just me?). In the end, you like looking at people you don't know, mesmerized by their beauty from a distance without knowing their insecurities and heartaches. Instead, all you see a fashionable enigma. You think to yourself, "This one might just have it all figured out." (especially with pics like these on The Sartorialist)

So I went over to the mosaicist, watched him for a while, and then I told him, 'I envy you.'

    "I always knew," he sighed, "that if I waited long enough, somebody would come and envy me.  I kept telling myself to be patient, that, sooner or later, somebody envious would come along."

    "Are you an American?"

    "That happiness is mine."..."Do you want to take my photograph, too?"

    "Do you mind?"

    "I think, therefore I am, therefore I am photographable."

    "I am afraid I don't have my camera with me."

    "Well, for Christ's sake, get it!  You're not one of those people who trusts his memory, are you?"

    "I don't think I'll forget that face you're working on very soon.:

    "You'll forget it when you're dead, and so will I.  When I'm dead, I'm going to forget everything-- and I advise you to do the same."

Excerpt above from Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut