Air travel

First, goodbye mom/dad/brother/alternative relative/lover/home/house/city/school/life! I will/hope to/may not/definitely won't miss you (so much) and then who cares how I'm finally there and in all my glory, me: this  hideous, monstrous being with wheeled growths on my body making my way through automatic doors unable to figure out how to carry myself gracefully just like I can't remember shit, what's my confirmation number? Why haven't I figured out how to do this shit online yet? Every time, every time just like now well good, phew, under fifty pounds but you're still going to take my twenty-five bucks that doesn't get any easier to pay even though this bullshit policy started years ago just like this damn the line is so long and all I want to do is get through without making a complete fool of myself now is the person in front of me going to take forever or just long enough so that I don't hold the line back moving my infinite shit along and is the person behind me going to get irritated if I do a sloppy job like always with all the stuff I'm carrying so that I wouldn't go over the weight limit I mean I wish I could announce that the reason why my carry on is so unnaturally large is cause I needed to avoid a second checked bag and that also explains why I'm wearing a jacket in the middle of fucking summer in Houston, speaking of bags why do some people feel the need to carry bags that cost more than the sum of the objects in the bag? alright your little conversations in line with the stranger on the other side of the black belt are sort of endearing especially when someone else's kid is showing you they're missing teeth like it's their biggest life accomplishment but face it what really matters is that you're making conversation because you are a loud person out of the pressure of uncomfortable situations and plus it's giving you an excuse to tell yet another person who doesn't give a damn that you're going to Mexico like we couldn't already tell by the cheesy beach outfit you've got going on that you bought at Talbot's in case anyone wasn't sure why you're going to Mexico you're little halter dress says yes it's vacation everybody look at me aren't I radiant well who am I to judge I made sure to wear my Duke shirt in case anyone at the Raleigh-Durham airport wanted to know what side I'm on but mostly just to make sure that there wasn't any doubt that I am a legitimate college student not just some undocumented immigrant which someone might actually assume well in case there's any doubt left as you stand there secretly feeling sorry for me as I awkwardly take of my sneakers with the one free finger I have on my right hand, I get to pull out my laptop with a big stinkin' Duke printed right on the sleeve but then the metal detector betrays me and I have to take of my stupid belt well at least I learned good family values from my mother and made sure to put on mascara this morning she always did say you have to look good when you travel somehow that's really important to her that she's always had god forbid I ever come home in sweats again like I did two years ago and never heard the end of it oh god
gotta grab all my shit again that's two seconds from falling out of my arms and causing a big scene but luckily I reach the safety of a bench and proceed to dress myself in front of a bunch of strangers even though I was always fully clothed but there's something about putting on a belt that makes you feel like you were naked before and it feels awkward, as awkward as the spot where I jammed my driver's license with the boarding pass all wrapped around it why do these things have to be so oddly rectangular you can't fold them without tearing the end which no one tears anyway they just like scan your pass when you're boarding I just don't get it OK gates 25-34 to my left oh great my gate is of course at the end of the terminal and on the way there I get to make my way down like a big klutz again and for a second I thought it was all finally over and I had a cathartic post-security breath of air where I recuperated a tiny percentage of the jet-setter ladylike composure  I was aiming for I have this vision in my head where one day I will be able to travel with a gorgeous leather duffel, sleek khakis, sexy camisole and a tobacco leather jacket, floating despite my 3 inch heels and looking ultra mysterious in my aviators and curly long locks but that's honestly never going to happen and well I'll just pop in my earbuds and wallow over the fact that the cute guy sitting across from reading some New York Times Bestseller is less than impressed by my frazzled walk over to the gate and of course once I finally find the song I wanted to hear it's time to board and yes I'm in the very last row which means I board first, OK yes please gate check that shit I don't want to lift 60 lbs of carry on above my head, and here's my seat ummm hello? ok I said hi that should cover me for the rest of the trip I'm about to spend with you, oh random person sitting next to me, I hope we don't ever meet again because by the end of the trip you'll know I can fall asleep anywhere anytime, even with the three kids under the age of five who just sat around us well isn't that nice, and yes I sleep with my mouth open. And I will be ordering ginger ale because I only ever drink that stuff when I'm on an airplane.