in an aeroplane over the sea

I don't want to toot my own horn, but I like to think I'm a pretty great traveler. I've been on twelve different flights this year and I never bring liquids in my carry on, I have easy to remove shoes, and keep to myself. Basically, if you are flying, you want me next to you. I will either be reading or listening to music, so don't worry, I won't try to talk to you (not in a rude way, but in a "I got stuff to be reading" way). You do you and I'll do me. 
That all changed with this last flight. I should have known that something would be different when I went to check my bag and it weighed a whopping 54 pounds.  You guys. 54 pounds. That's an Olsen twin.  (Just joking MK&A, I love you guys more than is socially acceptable for a 24 year old) I tried to shake it off and told the lady at the Alaska counter that I could re-appropriate things and get under that weight limit. I took my Bible and my Beth Moore Esther study book out (Love Beth!) and my bag immediately weighed like six pounds less. Then the unthinkable happened. The precious Alaska Airlines Angel told me that she thought it was great that I traveled with my Bible and then said to go ahead. What a blessing. 
After I checked my Behemoth of a bag, I made my way to the terminal, boarded the plane and realized I had an entire row to myself. That never happens, especially around the holidays!  I feel like I was being built up to be smashed down. Twenty minutes into the flight from Boise to Portland we had horrible turbulence. Turbulence doesn't usually bother me. I'm usually fine with it. This time it was so bad that I hit my head on the window because I was being moved around so violently and so quickly. Before I knew what I was doing, I said, "Sh*t!" I was seriously afraid. After my sinner words (joking), I literally said, "FATHER! INTO YOUR HANDS I COMMIT MY SPIRIT!"
Is that overly dramatic? Sorry I'm not sorry about it. I was entirely prepared to die in that plane. Luckily I did not die, but I was definitely freaked out for the next couple minutes as my frail, dainty body (don't you dare laugh) was thrust around the cabin. I disembarked in Portland, kissed the ground, and made the most of my layover. By making the most of my layover, I mean I had dried mangos, tic tacs, and a coke zero for dinner. Traveling is so glam, ya'll. 
My next flight was from Portland to San Diego. I was anticipating an easy, breezy, beautiful Cover Girl flight, but that's not what I got. I got seated right in front of the baby. The ONE baby no the plane was right behind me. I love babies, but there are few worse things when traveling than being seated near a baby. More often than not, they are whiny. I know that they are just babies, but I also just know that no headphones can drown out a baby screech. I decided to read and ignore the baby sounds, so I cracked open The Hobbit which put me to sleep in .2 seconds. I know that it's a good book, but I also fall asleep every time I try to read it.

Please try to ignore the monstrosity that is my thumb. 

I was thoroughly enjoying my Hobbit induced plane nap when I was woken up not only by Whiny Baby, but by round two of horrid turbulence. This time I didn't bat an eyelash, turbulence aint no thang when you've already been through it on the previous flight. I'm basically a flight attendant you guys, I didn't even bat an eyelash in the face of turbulence. 

At the end of the two flights, two turbulence scares, one whiny babies, and one horribly unsatisfactory supper was a beautiful city of lights welcoming me home. I am so excited to spend the next twenty days in lovely San Diego. No matter where I go, no matter what cities I fall in love with, or where I choose to set up camp, I will always call San Diego home.