Written at 10:40PM Eastern Time – October 6, 2012
Here I am at some random extremely high altitude flying currently over Campbellton (?) in Canada I think. I don’t know actually. I have no idea what time it actually is, just that we’ve got like 3 hours till we land in Iceland and then I have an hour before the next flight to London. I also know that TPWSNBN and I aren’t sitting with each other. Oversight on our part obviously, we thought we had picked seats. We thought we had at least picked seats together. But no, we both lucked out with windows and 1 aisle apart. I know, I know. Not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but, it really puts a wrench in the romantical-ness that was going on pre-flight. It made mu anxiety shoot through the roof, and me instantly turn to drinking. I’ve had 3 glasses of wine and 2 pints of beer. I’m apparently trying to be useless tomorrow, and spend all of our money before we even land in the UK.
Where ever we are currently flying over is pitch black. No lit up coast line of harbors and city life. We apparently just passed Dalhousie. I feel like I am keeping tabs on the captain by looking at this map. Even though it’s most likely a preloaded gif that just moves with the time that passes, and not an actual GPS monitoring device. Who knows. I am listening to Holly Conlan and it’s only make this situation bearable. I feel bad, that I am letting these little things like seating arrangements bother me, but here we are.
“You are the sky, you are the moon rushed round. You are goodbye. You are goodbye.”
In other news, just as I thought International flights seemed to have NO turbulance (well the ones that go to Europe) here we are actually hitting Turbulance. Apparently, Lisa, you can always get the close parking, I always get the flights with turbulance. You should most likely just never fly with me. I also get all emotional and feel like I need to tell the person next to me, how amazing I am, and why I should have gotten that job at USA Today when I applied 5 years ago, or may be it’s the white wine and the high altitude talking, but she doesn’t care and is calling for the flight attendant.
One thing I am sure of at this high altitude with entirely too much alcohol in my system for this flight, is that the moon, in all of it’s simplistic, creamy, white glory, is absolutely breath taking to see out the side of the plan through my little window, while other sleep to hope the passing of jet lag. It’s just me and you Mister Moon. I feel like I owe you something, like a cup of coffee, or a cookie. You bring so much to our meeting, so much beauty and wonder and I am but a girl who is drunk on a plane (which would have been way more entertaining had there been no drink limit – WHO DOES THAT?) with a laptop who is writing a blog entry she will most likely forget about tomorrow. I bring you my devoted attention, to whatever you are planning on showing. Even if it is just half of you tonight, it’s your good side.
I see nothing outside my window but you and the wing of the plane, and even in this turbulance, that brings me a comfort. There are no scary thoughts here. There are no monsters to be found. Just a quiet, pristine, half moon night.
Goodnight moon. Goodnight stars. Goodnight readers.