Semester's over, presents are mostly bought, and I'm on my way home. I mean that quite literally, as I'm sitting in the SeaTac airport waiting to get hungry so I can buy something before I go find my gate to hop an AK airplane and touch down two hours later on the rock.
I managed to find a seat right in front of the glass walls with a view of the tarmac. Outside, everything comes in shades of grey except for the yellow stripes on the ground. It's raining, and cold looking, and feels like home already. I have it on good authority, however, that the lake is frozen at home and that half the town is on it. I can't wait.
About ten minutes ago, two toddlers wandered to the window in front of me. The repeatedly laughed and shrieked with joy as the planes taxied around, landed, and blasted off. "Airpwane! Airpwane!" A third child, maybe just a year old, grabbed my iPod and water bottle before her father apologized and took her away.
She just came back. I had to switch my page to Facebook so her mom wouldn't think I'm a creeper, blogging about her adorable little daughter. She went for my keyboard this time and pushed a couple of keys. I only stopped her when she went for the off button. I switched my iTunes to We're Going to be Friends, the Jack Johnson song from Curious George. She danced the way only babies can make cute: squats and mini jumps.
I'm getting hungry now, but don't know what to eat. After a semester of Cannon Center food, I don't want to eat anything that's been commercially prepared. Don't get me wrong; the Cannon's really not that bad. But home cooking is going to be the star of my vacation, apart from my family and friends. I'm kind of thinking just a tuna sandwich (but don't tell my Dad.)
Have I told you how much I love airports? There's this bizarre sense of unity: everyone is trying to get everywhere. We're stressed, tired, and have airplane hair. This is a stretch, but it seems like barriers come down, because no matter what's home, you're still in an airport.
I'm also a fan of airport flirtations. Maybe there's a cute guy on the other end of the hall. He sees you. You do the "hey." He does it back. Maybe one of you smiles a little. And then you both walk away, feeling a little more attractive. No anxiety over whether or not he'll ask you out or if he already has a girlfriend. Or if you have a boyfriend.
I haven't had any airport flirtations today, for the record. I think the most memorable time was when I was flying out of Seattle to SLC a couple of years back and caught the eye of one of the baggage loaders. We laughed and made the "call me" sign and never saw each other again.
I'm hungry. It's official. I'm going to pack up my laptop, heave my ridiculously heavy backpack onto my back (dear Dad, you'd better love your Christmas present. It weighs a ton) and go eat.
Love,
Eri
