Trip Blog 1

Charleston to Atlanta, Atlanta to Adventure

Without even meaning to, I discovered a new song for my trip. It really explains everything I feel about it.

Electricity, Sir Elton John:

I can't really explain it,

I haven't got the words,

It's a feeling that you can't control.

I suppose it's like forgetting,

Losing who you are,

And at the same time, something makes you whole.

It's like that there's a music playing in your ear,

And I'm listening, and I'm listening,

And then I disappear.

And then I feel a change,

Like a fire deep inside

Something bursting me wide open, impossible to hide,

And suddenly I'm flying, flying like a bird,

Like electricity,

Sparks inside of me,

And I'm free, I'm free!

It's a bit like being angry, it's a bit like being scared,

Confused, all mixed up, and mad as hell,

It's like when you've been crying, and you're empty, and you're full,

I don't know what it is; it's hard to tell,

It's like that there's some music playing in your ear,

But the music is impossible, impossible to hear,

But then I feel it move me,

Like a fire deep inside,

Something bursting me wide open, impossible to hide,

And suddenly I'm flying, flying like a bird,

Like electricity,

Sparks inside of me,

And I'm free, I'm free!

I'm free.

6:52 pm

It's really happening now. I'm some 3112 miles above the earth, cruising at 548 mph, and approximately 7 hours from London. It still hasn't penetrated my mind yet. But that doesn't matter. It will eventually.

I was going to try to be really grow-up and calm and collected today when Nick dropped us off at the airport. After all, it's only for 19 days, I still can email and even call him on my dad's iPhone, I shouldn't need to cry.

That didn't happen. My lofty dreams at being cool and collected were definitely not realized. Of course, I wasn't sobbing my heart out, but I couldn't stop the few tears that came. But it's the first we've ever really been apart, and I don't care if it's childish.

So far, everything has been going smoothly as far as arrival and departure are concerned. The only little glitch was almost losing Mr. Cross before boarding for London. Having dodged that slight problem, everything else has been fine

.

Thank God I was able to get into the middle section of the plane. I'm not claustrophobic, I just really appreciate not having a ceiling one foot above my head for 7 hours. I like space. And even better, I have an open seat next to me, which I look on as God's little extra gift to me. I think the woman in the next seat thinks I stole her headphones though...

As far as food goes, airline travel has definitely been going down. On this flight we get one meal, and “a light snack” which consists of the smallest package of peanuts I've ever seen in my life. Ah, well.

8:21

Airline dinners are officially disgusting. I think maybe I'm glad we won't be getting breakfast.

This flight seems to be going by fast too. I've blogged a little, listened to my ipod a little (and watched some Step Up on it in honor of Channing Tatum and Jenna Dewan's wedding), watched about half of He's Just Not That Into You, and picked at a soggy meal. I haven't even pulled out the big guns: the novel of Wicked.

Maybe that's part of getting older, something I've noticed in the past year or two. Time passes really fast.

I happened to glance out the left-hand window next to me and saw an incredible sunset in the clouds somewhere off the Boston coast. A sunset is completely different viewed from the air, and very difficult to describe, so I won't try.

I popped some Benadryl few minutes ago, and I think it might be starting to work. I really hope it does. Last time I took it, I don't think anything happened...even decongesting. Plus, I'm interested to see how this movie finishes up. I'll be on land again in 5 hours and 16 minutes.

1:10 am, or 6:05 am depending on which time zone you want

Watching a chick-flick was not the smartest thing for me to do. Now I miss Nick more. I kinda dumb like that.

Turns out we do get breakfast. An egg--and-cheese-product on a biscuit that tasted pretty good, orange juice, a cold banana (which was unripe enough for me to like it, since I'm picky about bananas), and hot tea. Altogether, much better than dinner.

I'm trying to trick my body into the next time zone. I dozed for about and hour and a half and the sunrise outside, which is incredibly beautiful, is definitely helping the whole “pretending it's not 1 o'clock in the morning” thing. I've come to find out that there really is no comfortable way to sleep on a plane once you're adult-sized, except on business class flights to Sydney, India, and some other far away place where the seats fold down into beds, which is pretty sweet. Adds for that keep coming up on my little TV monitor, cleverly getting you to despise your own crampy seat and realize how much, much better off you'd be if you had only booked your flight in the business class and not in the last-class, as I used to call it.

Being on this flight is bring back all my old dreams of wanting to be a flight attendant when I grew up. I really think all I wanted were the cool outfits and the little wing pins they used to give out. It doesn't seem so glamorous now. It's funny to look at your dreams as a little girl with older eyes. I liked the way I thought then.

As we're beginning our descent into London, my ears are starting to go haywire, which continues to be my only problem with flying. I think our family's constant ear infection battle when I was little might be responsible for it. So far it's not too bad, but we'll see how I go as we get back closer to the earth.

This flight has not been bad at all. Except for the little kid screaming in front of me. I want to kick him.

London Gatwick A irport

The sleepiness is hitting. I just bought an orange juice and a coffee. Actually, I'm not really sure what it is as I never really drink the stuff, whether it's a cappuccino, espresso, or whatever, it is hopefully going to keep me awake through our tour of Windsor Castle on the way to our hotel in London. And it tastes really good. If a coffee thing has steamed milk in it I generally like it. I guess I'm a coffee softy; I'll drink the flavored stuff, just not the straight-up coffee.

Since we flew in over an hour and a half before our buses come, we're just hanging out in the airport waiting for other people in our group who came on different flights to join us, then get on our buses. Or coaches, if I want to be Britishly technical...

En Route to Windsor Castle Wednesday 9:00-ish am

Man this bus brings back memories. I vividly remember the first time I was ever on a bus in England on the first choir trip. At 10 years old, my hobby at that moment was making little animals by weaving beads on plastic cord stuff, and I was desperately crushing on Justin Buckley. I had shyly crept up to his seat and mustered the courage to sit and talk with him, probably the first ( and pretty much only) time I've hit on someone. Everything was going wonderfully until the driver hit the break, and my entire box of beads which I'd left for Angela Bedel to look at came crashing down from the back seat of the bus. I still vividly remember the conversation: Justin “What was that?” Me: (incredibly disconsolately) “My bead box...” So ended my happy Justin-conversation.

There were still beads rolling around on the floor at the end of the trip.

(Note for Nick, right now we're passing a whole field of Moo-cows)

I love this. Everything is fresh and different, and we just passed a really awesome Porsche convertible/rally car looking thing. I have no clue what it was, but at least I can identify the make of a car now. Nick has really rubbed off on me.

Post Windsor Castle

I am officially exhausted. We all are. The castle was amazing; when I looked down in the chapel and realized I was standing on the graves of King Henry VIII and Jane Seymour, my head spun for a moment. It was hard to comprehend.

After that, the tiredness really hit me (as well as the blisters from my shoes) and I got pretty grouchy. And a little whiny. That happens when I overtired, and I hate it, but sometimes I don't even have the will to help it. I guess in that way I'm still a very little girl.

We stopped at a little pub for lunch, and I found out another thing: I pretty much hate being a “tourist.” Being with all the flocking throngs of people, doing the big “touristy” things, seeing how annoyed some of the locals seem to be with us. I don't know. Maybe it's the tiredness talking. My head still hurts.

At the moment, all I want is to take a shower and wash my face. Then maybe lay on a comfy bed for a while. I need to find some internet too, so I can post this, and check my email. And maybe upload a few pics to facebook.

3:00 Traffic-logged streets of London

Driving through London is absolutely fascinating. The streets are jammed, the cafes and stores and people all range from stylish and brand spanking new, to old and dumpy. There's one overall style here that everybody is wearing to varying degrees of intensity. It's kind of the USA version of Emo dressing, and it's really weird to see everyone here wearing it. At home, it's just the random few mixed in with all the other styles, but here, everyone looks the same. And the people on the little motor scooter things are seriously freaking me out. They bob and weave in and out between cars and buses, and run lights, and appear to have both a serious desire to get wherever they want to go quickly, and a very serious death-wish.

I don't think I'd want to live here. It' s too big, too noisy, to rushed and unknown to feel right. It might be fun for awhile, but I know I'm not going to regret coming home.

That's all so far. More installments to come when I have written more and get internet access again. Love, love, love to all! And hugs and double European cheek kiss things to everybody. Except Nick. He gets a real kiss. I love you and miss you.