Philippine Airlines Centennial Airport Gate 6
I think they should make airports more colorful. Put in reds and greens and more plants. More coffee shops with more comfy couches and more boutiques with friendlier prices. Airports are too gray and too concrete and too uncomfortable. Well, at least the new airports are. NAIA still reminds me of the CCP lobby with all the wood and worn out carpets. While we all appreciate all the glass and high ceilings and Duty Free shops, airports still feel so cold. Particularly the departure area. It feels drab and gray.
Or maybe because I feel drab and gray and cold right this moment. And very very anxious.
I hate flying. I really do. Especially really long flights. I flew to London once, 19 hours with a 3 hour stopover, to Paris for 18 hours with a 1 hour stopover and now I'm flying to Los Angeles for 7 hours with no stopover. So this will be a walk in the park compared to my other long flights. Yup a walk in the park indeed. Jurrassic Park.
I'm flying alone. And that in itself explains how Jurassic Park-ly this "short" long flight to the US will be. I will be alone, strapped to a seat for almost 7 hours, elevated hundreds of thousands of miles above ground with metal walls merely separating me from a horrifying plunge to death. I have no one to talk me through the scary take-off, no one to share the bland food with, no one to switch with me when the cramped seats make me feel like i'm getting bedsore, no one to watch my bag when i go to the teeny lavatory with the waterless toilet bowl...and that makes me feel very nervous. Add to my anxiety the feeling of loneliness. Because I'm currently in an airport full of families and friends waiting for a flight. And I'm leaving my boyfriend behind and we'll be celebrating our first year anniversary in different parts of the world. And I'm missing my mom and dad and wishing they were here with me and coming with me on this trip so they can meet my their grandkids and see my sister and cousin. All these thoughts are making me teary eyed. And i don't want to look stupid all over again because I was crying and sniffing all the way from the departure gate to check-in.
So I try to dwell on the positive. My sister. Cousins. Nephews. But right now all feelings of positivity seem to be a thousand miles away. 14 thousand miles away, more or less. And so we board the 10PM flight....
August 4, 2007. 3:15 AM. Flight PR102
So I'm on the plane. And trying to entertain myself with all the stuff I brought with me to keep my mind from remembering all the airline accident specials featured on Discovery Channel. My book The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time, my Ipod and my travel journal.
I've been drifting in and out of sleep. Catching glimpses of Spiderman 3 and Blades of Glory, the in-flight movie features for tonight. My stomach's upset. My back hurts. I barely ate dinner or snacks and now my stomach is so acidic I can feel it almost boring a hole to the surface of my tummy. I want to call the flight attendant and ask for medical attention because I feel like I will faint anytime soon. But I still write because it occupies me from all the pangs of sadness, anxiety and hunger. And i really don't feel like talking to anyone. Because that means reaching for my gum in my bag which is safely stowed under the seat in front of me. The only words I have spoken during this flight so far are: Chicken, Tea, Water please, Thank you, More water please, and No thanks (to the alcoholic beverages and Duty Free merchandise...I knew I should have said yes to that glass of wine). The guy beside me tries to make small talk. He's a businessman with his power suit and blackberry and laptop. But I just smile politely and give him the I'm-sorry-but-I'm-a-loner look. And he minds his own business. Argh. I'm counting the hours. Painfully counting the hours.
August 4, 2007. 5:25 AM. Flight PR102
I just woke up and realized how planes are actually time machines. When I get to the States it will be 7:40 pm of August 3 once again. Lucky pilots and flight attendants, going back and forth in time. But I wouldn't want their job even if I have the height. That's a tough job, pushing those carts up and down the narrow aisles while the plane's tilted or bouncing from turbulence. And dealing with this airplane smell all the time. My stomach feels queasy all over again. But they'll be earning money while flying to different parts of the world and they won't be strapped to this seat the whole time. And the time traveling's also pretty cool.
August 4, 2007. 9:12 AM. Flight PR102
We're almost there. I just freshened up. And now they're serving breakfast. My body clock is all messed up now. So much for the coolness of time travelling. It's breakfast here on the plane but when we get there it will be dinner and knowing my sister and cousin we'll have dinner or snacks before going home. But I still try to eat anyways....
Ok I ate a little rice and a little corned beef and took the ensaymada for baon. And sit back and wait and think of my family and Chev. And I feel sad and homesick and airsick all over again. And before getting off the plane, I threw up in that waterless toilet bowl and I think for the nth time I hate flying.
August 3, 2007 11:30 PM
I'm now here in California and still dizzy and queasy from the flight. ...but seeing this baby in person just made that horrible flight all worth it.
I think they should make airports more colorful. Put in reds and greens and more plants. More coffee shops with more comfy couches and more boutiques with friendlier prices. Airports are too gray and too concrete and too uncomfortable. Well, at least the new airports are. NAIA still reminds me of the CCP lobby with all the wood and worn out carpets. While we all appreciate all the glass and high ceilings and Duty Free shops, airports still feel so cold. Particularly the departure area. It feels drab and gray.
Or maybe because I feel drab and gray and cold right this moment. And very very anxious.
I hate flying. I really do. Especially really long flights. I flew to London once, 19 hours with a 3 hour stopover, to Paris for 18 hours with a 1 hour stopover and now I'm flying to Los Angeles for 7 hours with no stopover. So this will be a walk in the park compared to my other long flights. Yup a walk in the park indeed. Jurrassic Park.
I'm flying alone. And that in itself explains how Jurassic Park-ly this "short" long flight to the US will be. I will be alone, strapped to a seat for almost 7 hours, elevated hundreds of thousands of miles above ground with metal walls merely separating me from a horrifying plunge to death. I have no one to talk me through the scary take-off, no one to share the bland food with, no one to switch with me when the cramped seats make me feel like i'm getting bedsore, no one to watch my bag when i go to the teeny lavatory with the waterless toilet bowl...and that makes me feel very nervous. Add to my anxiety the feeling of loneliness. Because I'm currently in an airport full of families and friends waiting for a flight. And I'm leaving my boyfriend behind and we'll be celebrating our first year anniversary in different parts of the world. And I'm missing my mom and dad and wishing they were here with me and coming with me on this trip so they can meet my their grandkids and see my sister and cousin. All these thoughts are making me teary eyed. And i don't want to look stupid all over again because I was crying and sniffing all the way from the departure gate to check-in.
So I try to dwell on the positive. My sister. Cousins. Nephews. But right now all feelings of positivity seem to be a thousand miles away. 14 thousand miles away, more or less. And so we board the 10PM flight....
August 4, 2007. 3:15 AM. Flight PR102
So I'm on the plane. And trying to entertain myself with all the stuff I brought with me to keep my mind from remembering all the airline accident specials featured on Discovery Channel. My book The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time, my Ipod and my travel journal.
I've been drifting in and out of sleep. Catching glimpses of Spiderman 3 and Blades of Glory, the in-flight movie features for tonight. My stomach's upset. My back hurts. I barely ate dinner or snacks and now my stomach is so acidic I can feel it almost boring a hole to the surface of my tummy. I want to call the flight attendant and ask for medical attention because I feel like I will faint anytime soon. But I still write because it occupies me from all the pangs of sadness, anxiety and hunger. And i really don't feel like talking to anyone. Because that means reaching for my gum in my bag which is safely stowed under the seat in front of me. The only words I have spoken during this flight so far are: Chicken, Tea, Water please, Thank you, More water please, and No thanks (to the alcoholic beverages and Duty Free merchandise...I knew I should have said yes to that glass of wine). The guy beside me tries to make small talk. He's a businessman with his power suit and blackberry and laptop. But I just smile politely and give him the I'm-sorry-but-I'm-a-loner look. And he minds his own business. Argh. I'm counting the hours. Painfully counting the hours.August 4, 2007. 5:25 AM. Flight PR102
I just woke up and realized how planes are actually time machines. When I get to the States it will be 7:40 pm of August 3 once again. Lucky pilots and flight attendants, going back and forth in time. But I wouldn't want their job even if I have the height. That's a tough job, pushing those carts up and down the narrow aisles while the plane's tilted or bouncing from turbulence. And dealing with this airplane smell all the time. My stomach feels queasy all over again. But they'll be earning money while flying to different parts of the world and they won't be strapped to this seat the whole time. And the time traveling's also pretty cool.
August 4, 2007. 9:12 AM. Flight PR102
We're almost there. I just freshened up. And now they're serving breakfast. My body clock is all messed up now. So much for the coolness of time travelling. It's breakfast here on the plane but when we get there it will be dinner and knowing my sister and cousin we'll have dinner or snacks before going home. But I still try to eat anyways....
Ok I ate a little rice and a little corned beef and took the ensaymada for baon. And sit back and wait and think of my family and Chev. And I feel sad and homesick and airsick all over again. And before getting off the plane, I threw up in that waterless toilet bowl and I think for the nth time I hate flying.
August 3, 2007 11:30 PM
I'm now here in California and still dizzy and queasy from the flight. ...but seeing this baby in person just made that horrible flight all worth it.
