The Flight

My mom didn't wave me off at the Miami gate, she watched me from every angle as I went through security saying "if you do something wrong or get confused, I will take you right out of this line and scold you." I almost immediately went in the wrong direction down one of the sectioned off lines with all the security guards yelling at me. "I saw that." I don't even know where her voice came from. I started this trip cracking up and shaking. The bottle of wine and melatonin sleeping pill on the first plane chilled me out a little. At the Paris airport I tried to do the thing, eat a baguette and have a cappuccino (disappointing btw) at a cafe but felt like a tired fraud and just spent 6 hours at my gate nodding off like a crazy person with my legs and arms wrapped around my two bags. The Dubai airport is one big soma infused bubble. Signs say "forget your credit crunch, buy buy buy." You have to pass an Armani mall (with shopping CARTS everywhere...yeah as if, I'll take these diamonds, this suit...) before you can see gate signs. And then there are prayer rooms. I peeked into one, a fluroescent atrium with lines of shoes. I almost went into the actual prayer room but thought it too disrespectful and a little scary. In short, that 30 hour plane ride through extreme time zones will make for an interesting state to be introduced to Kolkata.

I start my 30 hour journey to India tomorrow. My backpack's packed and by the door and I'm going to throw up.