there's nothing like
spending 12 some odd hours of travel sitting in cabs and airports and on airplanes until you finally get home to spend a round of several hours calling all the people you just left or left before you left to declare that you've actually gotten into your place safely (and that somehow your bags filled to busting point hadn't gotten lost along the way).
and on top of it all -- running into two of my professors at layover points along the way. major cosmic weirdness.
but at the heart of it all, it was a good holiday. and there's more to come. for which, i'll continue to look forward. even though, i'm feeling decidedly unwell at the moment.
here's what i wrote in a letter to my dearest friend (that i'll never actually send) in my new journal with a pollack like cover whilst a good-looking man in a cheap leather jacket sat decidedly too close to me and kept trying to read along with the pace of thoughts shooting out and through and in-between:
[note: all spelling and other errors are intentional or are the product of being way too tired and way too drunk from cocktailing at home after eating fuck-all all day]
i'm at the airport -- waiting for my flight home. i feel like, today, i've been travelling forever.
i'm on my second latte. the first -- iced -- in S. -- then a hot here in C. S's espresso stand was packed and the two women behind me where driving me crazy taling about the "dopio" and their amazement at what that means. when they ordered at the counter, the woman working the register didn't know either. i kept the information to myself. i ordered a latte here, there wasn't anyone else in line, from a very dark and handsome young man. when he gave me back my card he said have a nice new year then winked. i smiled and said you too. when i walked away -- he let out a squeal -- like a cat does when someone mistakenly steps on her tail. i turned around -- startled for a moment into the instinct -- he waved smartly and turned away. i smiled to myself, not entirely sure why, and left for my gate. i can still see him down the hallway -- behind the counter -- swilling coffee for endelss strangers. friendliness of this kind always leaves me feeling amazed.
a few minutes ago i saw a very tall woman carrying a battered white cello case. in less than an instant, i decided she was a famous musician and felt jealous when i saw that she was with her mate. these impulsive thoughts are strange -- aren't they? the way i create these stories about characters @ the airport w/o much thought or direction -- the hilarious part -- w/o reason. i imagine these are the reasons for which you love me. (ha).
selfishly, i reread my end of term paper while i was waiting for me flight in S. the A+. it made me feel good. even now.
one of my professors from the department who is also on the committee is also on my waiting for this same flight back home. it seems strange that from whereever we were both going, that we'd meet up here. i don't think she's seen me. either that -- or she's ignoring it -- like i am. i never know how to handle these things.
i always wish that given time and circumstance -- i'd find someone who might like to write me love letters. or any kind. maybe the long sprawling variety. i'm not sure why this feels like it might be important. maybe because words that haven't come out of the the throat are really the ones i know how to make -- that i better know how to deal with. maybe they're there already and i just don't know how to read them -- how to listen.
the shattered voice over the intercom is calling my flight. and my professor is making glances my way. more --