I was sitting on my couch at just the right angle to get a clear view of the blue, cloudless sky outside the window.
And there, tiny in the distance, was an airplane.
Suzi and I have lived in a couple places where we were in the flight path for the local airport, including one where the runway was across the highway from the small deck on the back of our apartment.
I used to sit and watch the planes overhead. I’ve always liked watching planes.
Switzerland is in danger of being the Chicago of Europe, in that it’s the place Suzi and I talk about going to for years before we actually go.
Hopefully, this year is the year we get to visit our friend who lives in Basel and figure out if it’s a real place after all.
Other than that, we’ve just kicked around a couple travel ideas. Do we take our annual train trip to New York? We loved Philadelphia when we went several years ago; do we go there instead? Do we do both?
I was joking with my blog buddy Savannah that she was trying to get me to visit her and her husband in Colorado. Not only would it be a chance to meet them and enjoy what looks to be amazing scenery, but they also have pickleball!
It’s not at the top of the list, but traveling is one of the reasons why I have to get the rain to stop.
They were the type of guys who probably thought “Jersey Shore” would have been a lot more entertaining had it been filmed wherever they lived in Rhode Island and starred them.
It was the days when Southwest mostly flew out of cities adjacent to major markets, which is why we were flying from Providence to Las Vegas to Ontario instead of Boston to Vegas to Los Angeles.
Which is how these guys not only ended up on our morning flight, but for whatever reason took seats in the rows in front of and behind where Suzi and I were sitting. This, of course, meant they felt the need to discuss all the partying they were going to do in Vegas, loudly.
And then they started ordering drinks, because it was 5 o’clock somewhere, right?
I’ve never understood why people get worked up over fish in the work microwave — unless your desk is next to it, you won’t smell it for very long — so I really don’t care what you eat on the plane.
And to be honest, although I’d rather you not get hammered because of what that often leads to, I don’t have a huge issue with drinking on the plane, either.
I just ask that you not be loud and obnoxious.
I had never seen it before. On the screen in front of me, I could see where our plane was, our elevation, how far we were from London and our scheduled arrival time.
It played on a loop, and I was mesmerized.
Which meant I wasn’t sleeping. Which isn’t great when you’re flying overnight.
Meanwhile, Suzi was snoozing contentedly next to me, thanks to her airplane-sleep secret (aka taking two Tylenol PM tablets).
At least I only made that mistake once. Now I shut the flight info off when I’m trying to sleep.
As for how I sleep — or try to, it comes and goes — I’m definitely a View Finder when I’m in a window seat, and probably closest to an In-Flight Meal, Hoarder or Thinker when I’m not.
Meanwhile, when she has the Tylenol PM working, Suzi can rock the WTF.
Along with shutting off the TV, whenever I sleep on the plane, I have to pick my music carefully. I can’t just play random songs, because my urge to skip songs means I have to be alert.
Instead, because I have so much of their music and never skip any of it, I play Sugarland if I want to drift off to sleep. And because I like to go to the restroom about halfway through the flight, I’ll often play Taylor Swift’s “1999” because it’s about an hour long, which makes for a nice pre-bathroom nap.
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My senses of direction and geography are such that I don’t know if the plane I saw out my window was headed to or from Boston, but I know that I was jealous.
I want to be on a plane headed somewhere.