Jun 3, 2011

Four From Exit

So I was at the airport and had just had a quick and silent freak-out about the possibility that they won't accept my drivers permit as identification (curse me, why didn't I just get a licence!). I had also just paid a hundred dollars because my baggage was overweight. But I guess that's what happens when you pack everything you own.

I was taking a flight separate from the rest of my family, even though we were leaving at the same time and going the same place, because it was a thousand dollars cheaper that way.

My mom hugged me, told me that she loved me and said, "When you get on the plane, count how many seats you are from the exit, so you can find it if the lights go out. And get off within 90 seconds. That's very important. I read an article about it."

I was grinning at her and she said, "That's so mom, isn't it?"

"So mom," I agreed.

I thought I'd be more emotional than this. I'm leaving Hawaii for six months. Six. Months. My friends (katie...) and the beach. And non-chapped lips. For six months. And I was going on my first flight by myself (i kept checking my pockets every three seconds--ID, boarding pass, cell phone... ID, boarding pass, cell phone). And a pre-recorded man had just announced over the loudspeaker that any unattended items would be confiscated and DESTROYED  which I thought was really funny, even thought it was probably to prevent bombs from going off.

I'm flying out of my childhood and off to college, metaphorically but officially jumping off the end of the sidewalk. This is the part where I thought I'd be freaking out. But so far... not so much.

I was four seats away from the exit on the plane.