Flight Haven
A direct translation from our germanic language ancestors.
There's something vaguely satisfying about being able to watch something slip through your fingers, exultant in the knowledge that there is not a damn thing you can do about it. The zen of airports, if you will. I've collected a couple of new ones these last two trips - though LaGuardia is an experience that I would rather not repeat. (read: "I'd rather have bamboo splinters shoved under my fingernails than do THAT again.")
Despite this afternoon's missed moment, tomorrow still sparkles clear and full of promise. The realist/pragmatist in my still shakes her finger, cautioning against excessive hope, but for the moment I am fed, and have clean underwear, just in case.
I wrote my name in big black Sharpie letters on my smaller bag, and re-labeled the big bag twice - with the new address -> all this in preparation for lightening striking twice and all that jazz.
At any rate, I'm on my way... but then again, aren't we all?
There's something vaguely satisfying about being able to watch something slip through your fingers, exultant in the knowledge that there is not a damn thing you can do about it. The zen of airports, if you will. I've collected a couple of new ones these last two trips - though LaGuardia is an experience that I would rather not repeat. (read: "I'd rather have bamboo splinters shoved under my fingernails than do THAT again.")
Despite this afternoon's missed moment, tomorrow still sparkles clear and full of promise. The realist/pragmatist in my still shakes her finger, cautioning against excessive hope, but for the moment I am fed, and have clean underwear, just in case.
I wrote my name in big black Sharpie letters on my smaller bag, and re-labeled the big bag twice - with the new address -> all this in preparation for lightening striking twice and all that jazz.
At any rate, I'm on my way... but then again, aren't we all?