Luggage is evil

No, seriously. I have a combined luggage weight of about 100 pounds (I am NOT an ant, dammit! I cannot carry my own weight!) - a messenger bag (containing a laptop, a big jar of jam intended to be a gift, though I may crack and eat if myself since it weighs so damn much, and a 35mm camera, among many other things) over my shoulder, and two giant bags, each 45 pounds, that I drag along behind me. I constantly praise the brilliant person who first put wheels on luggage. Now we just need luggage with motors... But gosh, I never realized how much walking was involved in airports. Somehow the moving walk ways and escalators are much farther apart when you're dragging 100 pounds with you...

But I don't mean to complain - at last I'm at the hotel, which (thankfully!!) has internet, my luggage is strewn across my bed to be repacked, and I'm thinking back on the day. I love and I hate flying. I love looking down at the ground, I love turbulence as long as it's not too strong, and - strangely - I love the food. At the same time, as soon as the plane takes off my mind starts to tick off all the plane crashes I've read about in the last year, and when turbulence throws the plane around I panic, even while the feeling of weightlessness that comes with a drop is thrilling. However this was a wonderful flight. There was just enough turbulence to be exciting, but none of it was very strong, and the view of the ground was spectacular across the whole country. I was glued to the window, and even though I'd brought a book, it lay forgotten. Flying to New York is a really big step - it means leaving behind my friends, my pets, everyone and everything, even though I'm not yet leaving for Italy. To watch the country go by far below the plane was calming, just being certain of where we were and that we were going in the right direction...

Coming to New York is like being caught between two worlds - the first world is one that I know, it's Pasadena, my friends, and everything in my life up till now; the second world is one that I can't even picture, and since I can't imagine it, I feel like I'm falling into a giant blank, which is pretty nerve-wracking. I know, though, why I'm so miserable leaving my first world behind (other than the fact that everyone I know is basically AWESOME, and I love you, and I miss you!); it's because I don't know how wonderful my new world is going to be, so I feel like I'm leaving behind everyone I know and love for.... nothing. But I predict that once I make it to Italy, once I realize how wonderful it is, everything will be worth it.

P.S.: Note to self: do not, under any circumstances, drink a large Chai Tea Latte before a 5-hour flight.