This is a chronicle of June 17, 2008
So I’m in Chicago’s Midway Airport – at 6:42 central standard time. My flight leaves at 8:50 … so I’m here with time to spare. However, I am a little annoyed because the airport has decided to taunt me with the promise of internet access – so excitedly I open up my computer only to find that they have chosen to go with a pay-for-use WIFI, which I respect and can appreciate. However, you get a WHOLE 24 HOURS OF SERVICE for the reasonable price of $6.95. Now, if I were spending all day in the airport I might think about purchasing that AMAZINGLY GOOD DEAL (especially considering how a month of home internet access costs approximately $30). Needless to say, I am actually not writing this online right now. Instead I have decided to write the prologue to my Out West Extravaganza in a word document to be transferred to my blog later tonight.
So, here I am sitting in the nice seats at gate A18, even though my gate is actually A9. Why should I sit in those hard plastic seats that are going to make my back ache and my butt sore when there is an excellent collection leather covered arm chairs down the concourse that will cradle my toush in comfort (and it happens to have an electrical outlet so I can charge my laptop to boot! So, I’m mooching off the pleasant patrons of AirTran.
Anyway, my adventure here was uneventful. I could have easily slept for another 30 minutes, but I suppose it was better to be safe than sorry. Had I slept that extra half hour, invariably, there would have been an accident on the freeway, or I would have gotten a flat tire or some unfortunate event would occur to delay my arrival to Michigan City, which would have resulted in me missing my train to Chicago, and then I would have been late for my flight and my whole trip would have been initiated in a rocky and unpleasant fashion. So, instead I’m slightly sleep deprived and have read up a bit in the book I am reading (Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert). Oh, and I have decided that I love not checking baggage. I got off the ‘el’ (‘L’)? and walked right to security. It was beautiful. No waiting in line, just sitting on the train, walking to the concourse, maneuvering through security and now sitting again (at the wrong gate). I am going to be sick of sitting by the end of the day. I should go for a walk around the airport.
I am viewing this trip as the end of the massively extended period of time between adolescence and adulthood commonly dubbed ‘college’. My experience was longer than most due to the requirement that I have a Masters degree to practice. Nevertheless, it comes to a close. Today, I officially enter the “real world.” I have my first “real” interview, for a “real” job – versus to fake interviews I did at ASHA or interviews for internships. Those don’t count because, in the end, they didn’t really matter. I wasn’t going to accept any jobs offered me at ASHA, and I was guaranteed an internship so, it really didn’t matter where I was placed – the point was to gain experience. Here and now I will be examined by professionals with experience, sized up, figuratively poked and prodded in their attempt to see if I make the cut. To see if, when push comes to shove, they think I will be able to use this knowledge I have spend a great deal of time, effort and money obtaining. So – I’m at the cusp. I’m standing at the edge of the diving board staring down at the water, seemingly a mile below me. And I’ve got to jump. This moment (approaching in 6.5 hours) is what the past couple weeks have been about. I’m beginning to get excited. The irony of it all – is that this will, most likely, be posted after the fact. Anyway … I think I need a breakfast sandwich.
… later that morning …
The breakfast sandwich was good, expensive, but good. What are you to expect when purchasing food inside of an airport, similar to buying food in an amusement park. They have a monopoly on food (for those of us who didn’t bring food). Anyway, now I’m sitting nearer to my gate (gate 11). The seating at my gate is quite full, so I opted for the comfy chairs that are spaced further apart rather than the hard ones with little “wiggle room.” I’m going to be cramped for a while as it is, there’s no need to start now.
Anyway, I have had a fascination with flying since I was young. In high school (maybe even middle school) I anxiously awaited my first flying experience (which occurred my sophomore year of college). From that first take of from Dallas, TX I was addicted. My favorite part is take-off. Feeling the brute force of the airplane forcing your chair to grip you tightly as the collective makes its assent to cruising altitude. My plane has just arrived, I should probably stop typing, visit the restroom once more and then finally make my way to the appropriate gate. So, until next time (probably on the 4.5 hour flight to the San Francisco International Airport).
… again, later that morning …
So I’m currently flying over the Midwest proper (Illinois, Iowa etc … in my opinion, Michigan really isn’t part of the Midwest – it’s a Great Lakes State). And I think we just flew over the Mississippi River (placing us somewhere over Iowa). Anyway, I was able to see the flooding of the region first hand. Watching the gray lines that are roads disappear underneath brown expanses of unencumbered rivers is truly astonishing. Right now I’m looking out my window and the river we’re following winds and bends along and then suddenly, out of nowhere the river quadruples in width. Trees roads, expressways and occasionally cities drowned by a river overflowing its banks. Up at cruising altitude you loose all perspective pertaining to distance along the earth, but the river has had a too wide a girth for a long time.
So, for those of you who don’t know about one of the best things about my stutter let me explain. It is an instant “friend-o-meter.” Based on someone’s reaction to my stutter I can tell if they are a cool person or not. My flight attendant: not cool. She doesn’t overtly show distain or dislike (her job is to make me feel comfortable so I will fly again – she can’t make a face at my stutter) but over time a stutterer can become quite attune to picking up very slight adjustments in facial expression and body language that gives the biases of my conversation partner away. This is neither here nor there, just a fact of life saying that of flight attendant and I met somewhere else other than her place of employment I would not go out of my way to interact with her.
… later …
we’re somewhere over the plains – lots of farm land striped green and brown. And there is a ridge lined with, what I can only imagine being, wind turbines. Interesting. The patchwork land sprawls beneath me. Even this high up these fields look larger that those in Illinois. It reminds me of the plaid patchwork shorts that have recently become popular. Alternating horizontal and vertical stripes of two-toned plaid; kind of fun to examine. There are more wind turbines – I can actually see some of the blades turning they appear to be moving slowly. However, this is deceptive based on their relative miniscule size. If the blades are as large as I imagine they are the outer edge of each blade is moving very fast. The wind farm is absolutely huge, spanning many miles across a ridge. There are at least three rows of turbines, sometimes four. I wonder how much power is generated by that wind farm. There is free energy everywhere in the world – it is up to us to envision new ways to harness and store that energy and then we can be mostly independent of foreign oil and simultaneously saving the environment.
We’ve been in fight for a little over 2 hours now. The land has a lot more vertical contour that it did even 15 minutes ago. I find myself wondering what state we are currently flying over. But these are undoubtedly the Rocky Mountains. Snow caped peaks with valleys intermingling. It is a beautiful sight. My guess is that we are over Colorado. There is a river cutting a gorge through the earth, it’s cool to see. There are cirrus clouds between the mountain peaks and our plan they look like a painter’s brush stroke on an enormous canvas. I am now past what I assume to be the front range of the Rockies: I am now further west than I have ever been.
Anyway - now, here I am in a lovely little coffee shop (called the Rendez Vous Cafe) around the corner from the hospital I'm about to interview in, enjoying a delicious iced latte. I'll take a picture later, but right now I'm just settling down to get ready for my interview.
We'll blog on the rest of this day later.
No comments:
Post a Comment