Adventures in Traveling

I'm a little behind on blogging as I'm back in Arizona and trying to resume my normal activities. I've never handled change very well, so going home really kind of threw me off. I have been wanting to write a bit on traveling/flying though, since it seems like I have been on an airplane more last year than I have in my entire life.

I feel lucky to be able to go visit my family so easily, but one thing is for sure - I am a horrible traveler. I love to go home and to different places, but the process of getting there is my own personal hell. I can always count on a number of things happening on what I like to call my "traveling day". First, I know that no matter what time my flight is, my entire day is taken up by packing, getting to the airport and reaching my destination. Packing, if you ask anyone close to me, has never been one of my talents. I am the worst. No matter where I am going and how long I will be there, my bags are always overstuffed and make no sense whatsoever. Do I need 4 tank tops to my week long trip to Utah in December? Probably not, but I don't seem to care. The anxiety that packing causes me (because I wait until the last minute) is enough to make me crazy. And it does. Second, I can always be counted on to shed quite a few tears as I say goodbye to my family, specifically my parents, as they drop me off at the security checkpoint. Speaking of security - I always get overly anxious to get through that line and always breathe a sigh of relief once I do. After witnessing a slight disagreement between Carlee and airport security a couple of years ago, I always get nervous that I'm going to get stopped, and accused of something horrible, that will in turn - make me miss my flight (which I have also done on more than one occasion). Because of this, I'm always close to stripping down to my skivvies and putting everything I own into a small plastic bag to send through the line. Once I'm actually on the airplane, and since I'm usually by myself, I will inevitably be sat next to an adorable older woman who loves to talk, or an unusually oversized man - who also, loves to talk. As we take off and the turbulence sets in....speaking of, I say we ban those small SkyWest planes altogether (sorry Ashley Lee). I would think they would be safer than the big ones. I don't know why...weighing less = less likely to fall...?? But they are not. If a bird brushes up the side of it, it is thrown into a tailspin and it takes about 5 minutes for the pilot to level out again. Anyway...the flight gets underway, and by the stirring in the seats and people looking over their shoulders, I can tell the beverage service has began. It seems like hardly anyone can relax until they get their drink and ridiculously small bag of peanuts (which I still claim to be the best peanuts...ever) . I take this moment of excitement to stick in my IPod and open a book, as it is the only point in my flight where my talkative friend next to me is focused on something else. On this last flight back, I opened up the SkyMall magazine, and I must say...the people who come up with that stuff are geniuses. Talk about great gift ideas. I want to open up a SkyMall store. Back to the flight though...the good thing about flying is the deep thought that comes from being stuck between two strangers with nothing else to really look at other than the back of an airplane seat. I thought a lot about the past year, and made some great plans for 2008. Sometimes I can get really relaxed, listening to music, to where I am really bummed when they ask me to "turn off all my electronic devices" as we get close to landing. Being the rebel that I am, I always try to keep it on as long as possible, hiding it under my shirt or jacket. The woman that sat next to me this last trip was nice enough to let me know 5 minutes before they even announced it, and then a couple minutes after (seeing me trying to slip it away unnoticed) that I was interfering with signals/causing the plane to crash. I sound bitter, but I know she was right. As we landed, it finally sunk in that the holidays were over, and that real life had to begin again. Sitting at the baggage claim is always entertaining. It seems like I am always surrounded by couples. Not just normal couples though - couples in love. I'm lucky with my bags though - they, and I always get out pretty fast. As I'm walking outside, getting a little down by all the displays of public affection going on around me, a familiar black car pulls up to the curb, and I'm greeted by Ashley's happy (but slightly annoyed for having to usher through the traffic) face...and everything is OK again.

On a different note, once I came home, I learned that our South African handy man has returned. We should have some interesting stories in the near future.