All my fears and anxieties about leaving were melted away by my third lay over. Most likely because they were replaced by nausea. Take off and landing were... rough. I scared the Asian girls that were sitting next to me on my first flight. They screamed like I was pulling a gun on them. All I needed was a vomit bag. All the grappling in her seat pocket must have scared her. My sickness finally repelled the overly-inappropriate flirt-er who sat next to me flying to Omaha. I really honestly do NOT care that you run 7 miles a day, have a neon Nike flashing GPS pedometer calorie counting wristband, work as a engineer for "the worlds biggest engineering company," talk to your mom once a week, are switching from vegetarian to Raw, or just live in Omaha temporarily. I wasn't saying I needed your vomit bag as a chance to lean over you either. I hope I splashed some on you. Perv. I'm married... and pregnant. I mean... that's just gross. My next flight I took a Dramamine from a stranger. I didn't even think things like: "Don't take drugs from strangers." or "Is this safe to take during pregnancy?" I just took it and kept my eyes shut and felt better by the time I touched down in Milwaukee. I normally like to read on planes (and always) but didn't even crack my book open.
I noticed just about everybody reads on planes. I got to thinking that if some people never got on planes they would also never read a book. I completely judge people by the books they are reading too. If they are reading Hunger Games or 50 Shades of Grey I figure they are the ones who read a book when they fly. Which they most likely purchased at the airport. Lame. Nicholas Sparks and Sue Crafton count as people who might read 3 books a year... and not very good ones. A girl sitting across the terminal aisle from me was reading a David Sedaris book and I hoped in my heart that we'd be sitting next to each other. No luck. I didn't even give people the opportunity to judge me based on my literary selection... I provided memories of Vomit Girl. The plane knew (even up in first class) that I was sick.
I got to Pittsburgh at 9:30.
I felt renewed. Excited. At Home. Like "me."
I felt alive.
Part of it was the smell. Cigarettes. I love the smell of cigarettes. And the other part was the Pittsburgh accent. I never had a very strong one and what I did have is totally gone. Sad. But it was music to my plugged up ringing ears.
And I just found out I can hear a little of it anytime I want via YouTube.
Tomorrow: II: Reunions.
3 comments:
It was fun to listen to how he talks. You're right - you don't have anything resembling that accent. :) I'm so sorry you were so sick flying. Who knew?? That sucks. And it's hilarious this fitness dude was hitting on you. Some guys have a thing for preggo girls, for reals.
We are flying this weekend... and I have bought books for the boys, off their summer reading list so we can preempt the summer reading drama.
And I once vomited on the plane... from California to Florida... first thing. What they really should have on planes after the barf bags.... toothbrushes.
I used to smoke cloves for the taste on my lips and the smell. Oh how I miss it.
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