Ufdah! There was once a time when I loved flying in airplanes, but now, I do it so often, it has lost it’s wonder. And with that lose of wonder I seem to have lost the ability to resist motion sickness. And I only have 13 more hours of flight!
For a little back ground. Last month I flew home from school (DC to Minnesota). Then a few weeks later I flew back to DC for an orientation. After one week of orientation I flew home. And then 12 hours later I got on my flight to Chicago, where I sit now. Then I fly to Frankfurt and finally Cairo.
Many say that the journey is half the adventure. I do not believe those people get car sick. I have been convinced for most of my life that my motion sickness does not apply to planes, but thank you nature for proving me wrong. I have not yet “gotten sick,” but the nausea is enough to make anyone’s journey unpleasant. I am excited to get on the flight to Frankfurt and dope myself up on Dramamine. I don’t know if Dramamine really does anything, but it puts me to sleep, and I don’t get car sick when asleep.
But over all things have gone well. My little sister is the greatest. She and my mother hosted a goodbye dinner for me with some of my favorite American foods. All of my grandparents, some extended family, and some of my closest friends were in attendance. Then my best friend slept over to help pack and see me off in the morning. Packing was fairly painless, except for several switches of bags. Biggish suitcase to biggest suitcase; no second carry-on to a duffle to a roller-board. I made it to the airport and through security calmly without trouble. But of course as soon as I got to the gate we are informed that there probably won’t be room for zone 5 and 6 to bring roller-boards on the flight, and it should be checked. After pulling out some overnight things, I checked in a nearly empty roller-board. That will be good for tokens acquired in Egypt, but I do worry about my new zoom lens, which remains in the roller-board. I tried to buckle it in place in its box.
Minneapolis to Chicago is a short flight. Too short for someone nauseous to drink a full can of ginger ale. So when we were about to land I had a good half a glass left, but alas, I had to fold up my little table. Just as I was juggling my drink and trying to click in my table, the seat ahead of me popped into the up-right position. This jostled my drink from my hand on to my pants, feet, and carry-ons. Oh, travel, why do you do this to me? I sat for a moment with my mouth hanging open, amazed by my luck, and then tried to mop it up. The damage was not too bad, but my feet are definitely sticky. At least I’m not wearing socks. Wet socks are the worst. I am just hoping this means that I have used up my quotient of bad luck. I am always excited for the foreign movies they play on international flights. Send any excess good luck you may have my way!
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