Observations from an Airplane

6:30 AM

People eat the most peculiar things at the wee hours of the morning. Some little kid just walked by my seat carrying a box of onion rings. The old man sitting in the window seat of my row is eating baked potato chips. 

I do not like flying at all.

I hope I can sleep.

I have echos of my friend's voice in my head, (I just got off the phone with him) telling me that I will be fine and I keep replaying his words over, trying to keep my breathing even. 

This plane is stuffy and smells funny.

I do not want to leave New England all of a sudden. All week, actually all break; I have been itching to get back to Idaho, and to school and to all of my friends. But as I sit on the runway and look out to the Boston skyline across the harbor, I all of a sudden get this twisty knot in my stomach of longing. I am not sure if I am as ready as  thought I was to leave the trees and the hills and the streams.

If my iPod dies, I'm going to be so pissed. 

I am so tired.

I like our flight attendant's voice. It's soothing.

I hope I don't miss my connection to Boise.

My eyes are having a hard time staying open. 

I'm scared to go back to Idaho. I'm scared about how empty it is going to feel.

I have to potty. 

I want my bed.

I feel very whiney, but my only excuse is that it comes with a serious lack of sleep and overly emotionally draining days.

It's time for take off and I'm so nervous. It's so windy outside and Dad says that it will make a very bumpy ride.

I'm looking out the window, which is a first for me and flying, but I want to see Boston one more time. It's beautiful. The sun is just starting to hit the building and they are glowing with warmth. I can see the Charles River running along Storrow drive and the Zakim Bridge. And i can see the Citgo sign, still lighted up at this time in the morning, popping up over the green walls of Fenway Park. I can follow the sign to Kenmore Square and down into Brookline Plaza. I can't see it exactly, but I can make out the area where Children's is and Dana Farber and the Jimmy Fund behind it.

The Zakim Bridge

This probably has to be the most beautiful view of Boston I have ever seen. Maybe flying isn't so bad.

Turbulence. I'm just kidding. I hate flying.

It's safe to turn my iPod on. I'm putting on my plane playlist, filled with Howard Shore and Hans Zimmerman. That should cover the drone of the plane engines and the wooshing of the air being blown. 

The old man sitting in the window seat keeps on having to go to the bathroom, so I have to keep moving for him. I don't know if I'm going to get much sleep.

I miss Maddie.