Nurturing my Domestic Side

I’ve been meaning for a long time to get myself to California to visit my best friend from college and when her break after her Medical school graduation coincided perfectly with a week-long wine immersion course it seemed like fate. So I headed out for one week in San Diego and then one week in Livermore. But before I go into detail about those two trips I want to talk a little about my culture shock from traveling domestically. Except for a short flight to Cincinnati two years ago I haven’t flown domestically in 17 years. Also it was my first time flying Southwest, and I do not get what is going on there. Everyone is in polo shirts and cargo shorts. It’s open seating free-for-all on the the plane and everyone is jovial. I guess I get the relaxed atmosphere they are going for, but I can’t trust a man in shorts. I guess I’ve just been spoiled, but here are some of the biggest surprises:

1. No movies

2. No free booze

3. No meal

4. No free bags

5. No movies

6. No going through customs

7. Shorter flights (The nice thing about having flown 18 hours to South Africa is that almost any flight seems short.)

Jet-Setter

Who are the women who look like models both before and after the flight? Seriously, how do they do it? These women who do a 5-6 hour flight in high-heels or knee-high boots. Their hair is gorgeously long and flowing before and after the flight!

Me? Well, usually I’m in flat sneakers with blood stopping-ly tight socks on (my mother is on the frontier for the constant prevention of blood clots and flying presents a huge challenge for her. Therefore I get lectures for days before I go with admonishments to walk around at least every two hours-never mind getting some shut-eye). On my legs are my fat jeans since I also have my passport concealing fanny-pack stuffed in them (which means every time security asks for it I’m digging in my crotch for papers which by now have colored from belly sweat). On top are usually bulky layers because planes are freezing! And one by one these layers start to smell. Depending on the length of the flight even my outer jacket will bear the stench of BO (thanks 18 hour flight to South Africa). And then the hair and face. Each time I enter the bathroom on one of my hourly laps my face and hair get more and more greasy. And since the air is so dry I take my contacts out and put on my glasses. On the flight to Italy I opened a yogurt for lunch and due to the air pressure it sprayed me in the face and coated my glasses and sweater.

On my recent trip to Mexico I checked out this guy at the airport, but predictably any guy who can look hot while flying will have one of the perfect girls with him. I saw them as we collected our baggage on the other end: I would describe the result of her traveling look as delicately rumpled. Closer to a sexy bed-head look than greasy, and her heels were still on.

Me? The circulation had stopped in my legs hours ago, my glasses streaked with grease, my hair clinging to my face, and my was passport lodged somewhere in my pants.