Day 1-Flight

August, 2011 § Leave a comment

I took a nice, long nap where I dreamed about birthday parties and boys that have crushes on me. I’m a child.

I woke up right on time to get my traditional cranberry juice. Again with the tradition. I considered breaking tradition when I saw the stewardess pouring a Sprite. The can popped, the beverage fizzed. As she poured it rose and swelled and I was just close enough to see the carbonation pop and explode only inches above the rim of the cup and to smell the sweet, sugary aroma.

“And for you, sweetie?”

“Cranberry juice.”

“Orange juice?”

I raise my voice, “Cranberry juice.”

“Cran-apple, all I have is cran-apple.”

“That’s fine.”

The truth is, all they hardly ever have is cran-apple. I’m not generally a purist but when it comes to my cranberry juice, I like it plain. Cran-apple is fine, though. So that’s what I told her. “That’s fine.” Those words define my outlook on life. Everything, when it comes down to it, is absolutely fine. Because making it something more dramatic or acting like it doesn’t matter at all, will never change the fact that, at the end of the day, it’s actually fine. Philosophy at it’s finest, pardon the pun.

I considered offering cookies to the teenage boys next to me. I talked myself out of it for fear of an awkward decline. I’ll probably offer, eventually. Let’s hope they don’t watch the news.

I’m in a single seat on the left aisle which earlier I heard someone describe as the “best of both worlds because you have an aisle seat and a window seat.” They’re absolutely right.

As soon as I talked myself out of offering cookies to the boys across the aisle, I looked to my left and there, out the window of my window/aisle seat, was a breathtaking view. The first person to tell me about the view from an airplane was my dad. He said it looks almost like heaven. I’m sorry, Dad, but I usually disagree. Mostly because I’m hoping for a LOT more color in heaven. White, yellow, gray, blue, that’s all I really see when I’m up in the clouds.

But, today, it’s different. Today the lack of color doesn’t bother me. There is a sheet of fluffy white that stretches from right under our wings to the farthest reach of the horizon. On the surface, it’s fluffy but the vastness of it makes it seem as solid as concrete. Today I think if we fell, the clouds would catch us. They might even throw us back up in the sky like a child on a trampoline. Maybe Dad was kind of right. Maybe he beheld something similar and that’s what made him say that.

I whipped out my camera in a sad attempt at capturing a wordless beauty and was slapped with those two fateful words that no one wants to see on their first day of a trip, “BATTERY EXHAUSTED”. And so now I’ve attempted to weave and blend my words like oil paints that might explain a beauty that can only be expressed through light and color on the retina. And it’ll probably be fine because, even though it’s a different beauty, letters and punctuation can be blended, too.


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