time of day: non-existent
place: somewhere over the atlantic ocean.
The first thing I want to do when I get to the hotel is shower; I haven't been sleeping on the plane at all and I know I'm going to be exhausted when I get into Tunis, so the kind of refreshing shower that substitutes a night of sleep is in order. I guess I could've been looking forward to sleep, but that's a cardinal expatriette sin on a first day of travel... what's better than a new city by the sea through the lens of hazy eyes? But, since I'm in between Toronto and Paris as I write this, I have a long time before I should think about that. A more pressing and relevant matter comes off the Toronto front. One, never fly transit through Toronto again. Flying transit requires about 8 more steps there, each which happen to be on opposite sides of the airport, I barely made my flight...Two, amidst being flustered and a little dazed from being in transit, when I sat down at my gate to board the second leg of my trip with 5 minutes to spare, a guy came and sat down next to me and we paid little attention to each other- he was reading something, I was talking to some friends whose voices I knew I'd miss, etc. etc. But by the time I had boarded the plane, I had convinced myself that guy was my close (emotionally- but far, globally) friend. For some reason, my instinct was to tell the New Jerseyian turned Parisian man next to me my whole thought process, "How could we have sat next to each other and not recognized each other? Do humans really have such tunnel vision that they only see what the expect to see?" I went on for 10 minutes to him about the non-story (since, i now believe it wasn't)...Anyhow, the man soon after moved when the seatbelt sign was switched off, "Maybe there's more legroom on the other side?" he said politely. The plane was empty and he really could've used more legroom....and even though his move ironically gave me more legroom, I was the kind of embarrassed I used to feel in middle school. Rambling to a total stranger-not a good way to start my new chic life in Tunis. You can take the rambler away from loyola, but you can't take the ramble out of the girl? (<--- clearly since i just relayed this story via the webtron) I couldn't pay much attention to it since Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 was on and the Coke I ordered- since I caught Jenna's craving from yesterday, had just gotten here.
your expatriette in tunis.
your expatriette in tunis.
P.S. I'm here now and after 2 layovers, I can say confidently, don't wear leather boots without a zipper to the airport- I know they look chic for travel, but it's very un-chic to fumble with them at security for 10 minutes. Eeks.