airports

I've always loved flying.

When I was a little girl, I used to open up an umbrella and jump off increasingly high flat surfaces to see whether I would float to the ground. Fortunately I did this in a series of graduated steps (instead of, say, deciding to abandon all caution and jump off the roof of my public school).

When I turned my attention toward planes, I was fascinated by the idea of a gigantic, unwieldy-looking METAL thing actually managing to lift off the ground, let alone remain high up in the sky for extended periods of time.

I fly an average of two times a month now, back and forth between Toronto and Philadelphia. Although I still like the idea, I have to confess I've grown tired of all the baggage (no pun intended) that goes with it...waiting for cabs, waiting in cabs, waiting in check-in line, waiting in the airport lounge, waiting for your plane to actually take off (are we going to TAXI all the way to Toronto?), waiting to deboard, waiting in line for customs inspection, waiting for your luggage, waiting for the bus home. Although my actual flight is less than an hour, it's generally about 4-5 hours door-to-door.

While I'm waiting, I'll be reading or working on my computer or listening to music or playing The Sims. Before typing this Blathering, I worked for a while on the e-publishing workshop I'm presenting in Surrey, B.C. next month. After I'm finished, I'll probably let myself play The Sims. Sometimes I just sit somewhere unobtrusive and just people-watch. I love people-watching, especially at an airport...there are so many stories going on.

Today's blatherpic: A view from I was sitting when I typed this entry, in the Philadelphia Airport, near Gate C26.