Travelling

Morning was fine, Camille was fine. Fortunately, I did not have to deal with my evil boss because I left before she got to work. All the clients and Camille shouted "Have fun!!" when I came to say goodbye, dripping bags off me. Very sweet.

And then off to the "Travel Day". Really, if you're flying anywhere more than four hours, you have to schedule one day at the beginning and day at the end of your actual vacation just to devote to travel. Blearg.

I had been talking with Marty about how to get to and from the San Francisco airport, since we're trying to save money and all that. And finally we just sort of said, you know, we've got the money, why am I even thinking of struggling with BART with all my bags in order to save $15? It seemed a little ridiculous so I just got the SuperShuttle, the famous blue van. In all the years I've lived here, it's only gone up from $15 to $18. And what's even better is you can pay online AND include a tip on your card. Very nice. AND a nice driver comes and picks you up at your door, my workplace in this case, and takes you right to the Delta curb.

I chatted in a friendly fashion with the driver. Practicing my mad social skillz, you know. I asked him about how the whole business of being a SuperShuttle driver worked and how was the current gas crunch working. Less people flying, less people needing the service, higher gas prices, main company takes a franchise fee, etc. Blah. I had originally said I'd rather drive people around than my job at the current moment (really only my boss and the notes right now make me hate my job). Bitch. But I think I would get a bit bored driving around all the time. I want a job I can sit and read or play on the computer all day long... Once another passenger got into the van, that strange sort of silence settled into place. The guy, while living in the weird suburb cities south of San Francisco, had a monster hummer type gas guzzler in the driveway. But off to the airport we went in the awkward yet somehow companionable silence.

You still have to take your shoes off at the security checkpoint which always annoys me, not just for the reason of the silliness of it, but partly because I always forget to wear shoes that are very easy to remove. My sneakers have some sort of rocket science lace up style and take some doing to get on and off.

Plus, apparently, you cannot bring water through with you. I had a small bottle in my bag and they told me I would need to pour it out and fill it up on the other side. So I chugged 16 ounces standing in line and put the bottle back in my bag. I'm not much of a pee-er, I can drink a bunch of water and not really go to the bathroom very often during the day. But after doing this, I had to pee just about every 20 minutes for two hours. Great. But in any case, I found my gate and ensconced myself there, minus the whole peeing bit. Which sucks when you have to lug your luggage with you to the bathroom.

I called Marty on my cell and we talked about Airports. To me, there is a sort of melancholy feel to airports, with an undercurrent of excitement. Marty and I decided that it was the Bardo Realm for travelers. One is neither at home, nor at one's desired destination but you kind of have to be there. Plus it's a mixing pot of every sort of available human type on the Earth. Black, white, brown, olive, pink, etc, all shapes and sizes and all sorts of doings that humans do, swirling around each, ie cell phones, laptops, mates to snuggle with, book reading.

I felt a little alone sitting in the airport, talking on my hunk of metal and plastic, hearing my husband's voice so far and yet so geographically near, watching a few couples snuggle and giggle with each other whilst awaiting their plane.

Our plane was a little late coming in from Atlanta but I wasn't too concerned since I had a two hour layover there anyway. Flying is so boring and difficult since you're sort of frozen in one position. But I had an exit row. But unfortunately the exit row that has the bulkhead right in front of you. No space to put your bags and such. But I mostly just slept.

Then in Atlanta. I've been in Atlanta many times as it is a popular layover hub for Delta. So it was familiar. I wandered around for a bit. Taking in the southern accents and the cute southern boys. Corn fed, I guess they call it. Although in my experience, cute but not so much nice.

So it might have been nostalgic, being there, but not, not really, I suddenly wanted to go home. Especially, for some reason, when I saw the Chic-fil-a and Krystal Burger shops. Yuck. Even I did have to have some Krystal Burger for old time's sake and well, yuck.

Then off to Louisville, Kentucky where my mom picked me up and drove me back to Lexington, Kentucky. Long travel day, just to go 3000 hours. Well, I guess it's better than weeks or months in covered wagon drawn by horses.