The Flight of My Life

Today was the big goodbye. Since my mom is the definition overly emotional and I her daughter there was no one to hand us tissues, pat our backs or play a sad violin as we went separate ways, apart for a year. She has given me everything since the day I was born a wild child. From making breakfasts (not just on the weekends but EVERY DAY) to more vacations than I can count my mom has been superwoman. I have so much more to say about her but just writing this is bringing on a whole new waterfall. This will not be a pity party. I may be a sentimental hormone driven teenage girl but I am also a young person on a life changing journey. Now inflate your neck pillows, we're going to Spain!

Last family trip in California, Pismo.

Dallas to New York

I am in the worst seat on this entire plane. Last row and window, the literal corner of the cabin. The window doesn't help on this absurdly cloudy day. The sky is blank like I'm in a half finished drawing and the artist stopped before starting the sky (maybe he had a plane to catch too) Either way it looks empty outside the same way it's kind of empty in me. I haven't hit any of the wild emotions I should be feeling. Not the sadness and not the excitement yet either. Hopefully it hits me before I become heartless!

On my way!

New York looking as impressive as always.



Yes TIFOS in Spanish!!

Rushing to catch the AirTrain zipping through terminals, what pride I felt as I stood in front of my gate, an hour early. YES! I had time to kill and a long flight to prepare for. So like any sane person I plugged in my charger, stowed away my passport and began, Tandasana. That's right people I was doing yoga in the middle of an airport with plenty of staring travelers. Two Frenchmen halted their animated conversation to join me. They began laughing as their tight European clothes barred them from bending any further. In thick accents they both said. "Very good, but we fall!

New York to Madrid

I never like to take naps on planes, but this time I'm flying across more time zones than ever before so sleep is a must. When I doze off I have an unfortunate habit of dropping my jaw. My gaping mouth must evoke some looks and laughs. In the end it's ok because my embarrassing sleeping presence must have brought someone, the cranky toddler, the overworked businessman, anyone whose fed up with the flying a little smile. Even when I'm unaware I hope I'm making people happy.

 

I'm sorry but I can't go for I am far too tired. Not in the jet lag way but in the I've been up all day visiting tobacco shops, bike riding and testing mystery foods. You'll just have to wait and see what I've been up to on this glorious first day!

Living in an Airport

Another Day Another Airport

Sorry I haven't been able to do much blogging. I just got home Wednesday after my sixth flight in the past five weeks. Hence the title, I've admitted the airport as my second home. Which is good and also not so good. Lay overs give me a lottt of time to spend wandering the crowds, sitting on floors and in window sills (I don't know why but I'm not a big fan of conventional seating).

The Pepper giving me inspiration      On the floor in Phoenix airport

Either way I've actually always loved airports. Uhh WHAT go the millions of people who hate them. I can see why some people hate/fear them. There is the "never been before it's so intimidating" fear and the crowded, stressful "is TSA really going to let him touch me there!" hatred. But ever since I was little they've been a really cool place.

Read this in the airport, laughed in front of strangers.
"Exchange students are ruining our country."

It's like the old days. Sitting up against a window turning gazes from the metallic birds launching off concrete fields, to the hustle and bustle of what must be a every age and every race heading off to every possible destination in the world. And people still think I'm crazy to like it here. Here, in this international flocking point, we're all from somewhere, all going somewhere. It makes me wonder about people's stories. Everybody has one. Each flight brings a new one to hear and a new one to tell.

Always wanted to be a twin.     Ryan Gosling?? Sadly no :(

Unfortunately not all flights bring the people willing to tell. The fact that I've turned to a blog shows how much I like to talk. Not everyone is quite so talkative and that's ok. I've learned the signs.

I Do Not Wish To Communicate if...

1. Ear-buds are in
2. Book is out 
3. Lap top is on

I can respect people's boundaries but with a hyperactive mind and a more than 3 hours of sitting I'm not a big fan of sitting still and staying quiet. If my "Hi, I'm Tanika. :) So, is *insert destination* your final destination?" doesn't get me anywhere I resort to my books and occasionally, if I can find some inspiration, my writing.

Time to Take-Off

Looking out at my home of two years I don't feel the usual sadness. Maybe I'm getting too good at goodbyes. Lot's of things (that I'm sorry but must remain off this blog) are flowing through my mind. So I focus on the belly of the bird.

A plane has two sides. I always hope for the good side, the turning-side. You know the side where the bird tilts and you can look out at the views down there, watching at the ity bits of man-made miracles below. But not this time. As the as we lift up and tilt right I was sky-side. Man, I had to stretch my neck to look across the isle only to be stopped by a poof of Dallas-Dolly hair clouding the window. I sat back and settled for my window. At first the sun bounced off the wing and struck me in the eyes. Hmf  I squinted and recovered finding nothing more than endless blue. How boring. I let my thoughts fly from my head with only paper to catch them.

Turning-side. Leaving NC in 2012

    First view of California in 2012 and last view(for now) 2014

Flight photography. Not too shabby California

Cruising at 35,000 Feet

We are in the clouds, and my visions of blue faded fast in the now endless white. Clouds are the BEST. From the eyes of a bird they pillow around you like a welcoming bedroom. And then you're flying through them! Layers and layers of misty fluff, further closer and all around you, blinding the windows with white. In the cloud, that's the best.

 

 Couldn't get many good ones but here is the cloud bedroom and the blinding white.

At first it's a little weird. You can't orient yourself in a cloud where UP, down, east, WEST no longer matter. For a moment it's like your in a time machine. The clock may not stop on your watch but for once it stops being important. You're just in the cloud feeling a tad bit lost, and on your way to a different place. The clouds are a piece of magic. No matter how many times I pass through them I'll always feel the same excitement in getting a little lost.

I changed my mind. Airports are not my home. Airplanes are not my favorite.

Clouds, they are my favorite home.