It’s a beautiful day on the east coast. The clouds are a beautiful bright cottony white just outside the window. Makes you want to fall into them and party with the angels. I’m on a US Airways flight somewhere in the skies between Charlotte and Toronto and my thoughts are about as scattered as the clouds I mentioned a couple seconds ago.
Toronto. A new beginning. A fresh start. A second chance—maybe not so much. Maybe I’m getting a little carried away. It’s definitely another chapter in my life, a new season, a step forward—okay getting carried away again. I’ll admit—saying goodbye wasn’t easy but I know this is something I have to do. It’s also overwhelming. I mean, this is me, finally moving out on my own! I’ve got such a tight grip on courage I fear I might choke it completely. When all else fails—and even before all else fails—God is faithful and His strength is mine. So I’m not going to be a wimp.
The flight attendants are coming through with drinks. Hmm…Sprite? Sprite it is.
On the flight from Atlanta to Charlotte, I had my phone on and I was taking pictures of the sky, the landing strip, the clouds. And the guy sitting behind me starts shouting at me. I didn’t realize it was me he was shouting at so he starts shaking my chair. No joke. He actually leaned over and started jerking it around. I was so startled and actually quite pissed off. He’s like, “Turn off your cell phone!” I smiled my best smile and replied, “You should probably calm down.” He’s still scolding, “You want to crash the plane and get us all killed?” More muttering, then he turns to his girlfriend (or wife?) and in a voice loud enough that I could still hear, he says “Retard!” Then he apologizes to the girl sitting next to him for yelling at me. Yeah! Nut job. First of all, my phone is on flight mode. Second, I don’t think he’d even consider doing that if I was a white girl. Third, it was just plain rude. Anyway, it’s such a beautiful morning up here in the clouds, I don’t want to spend my time being pissed off about all the losers that come my way.
My Sprite is still sitting here. Don’t really feel like drinking it.
So all in all, my trip has been pleasant. Both flights, I got to sit alone with no one beside me—made my day. No small talk. No strange smells. No bumping elbows. It was perfect. Sitting in solitude listening to the conversations taking place around me is almost therapeutic. The guy behind me apparently lived in New Delhi for ten years and Hong Kong for some period of time and now he lives in Canada; he also works on yachts for a living and makes frequent trips to Florida. The guy he’s been conversing with found tickets to Jamaica for $2 on Spirit Airline (plus taxes and fees obviously)—and no, I didn’t hear that wrong. The couple in the row across from me seems to be very much in love. And the two men in front have been chitchatting like two women this whole time. So yes, all is well in my world. There’s only one person I wish I could share this moment with but unfortunately it wouldn’t be allowed. Then again, if they were here with me, I wouldn’t be sitting here writing this deliciously entertaining essay on time pass.
It seems we’re nearing Toronto. And I’ve been instructed to turn off my laptop.
Until next time,
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