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Monday, May 11, 2009

flights and nights

I used to thrill to the idea of going to the airport.


Heck, I'd get excited just driving by the Philadelphia airport on I-95, watching those planes take off, imagining all the fun and exciting places I was sure they'd land.

See, airports could mean Florida to see my Mimi. Or picking her up at Christmas time and first of all finding her tiny 4 foot 10 inch self that, more often than not, had gotten lost on the way to baggage claim, and then carrying her floor-length mink coat while trying not to think too much about all of the little animals that might still be alive today if not for the thing in my arms that was heavy and hairy enough to feel like I was being hugged by a gorilla.

Providing, of course, that we actually did find her.

Going through security could mean eventually arriving in England and Whales and getting laughed at for asking for American cheese at a restaurant because apparently that kind of cheese has no market outside of you guessed it, America. So we'd eat British cheese and learn a thing or two about how much more of this world there is to experience than just our own country, as lovely as it can be at times.

Boarding a plane could mean traveling to sunny California, buying a brightly tie-dyed blue and white bathing suit that, to my 8 year old self, was what I had been waiting for my entire life. It was perfection in spandex, meeting both my mom's standards for modesty and my standards for style.

We'd sit on the plane in anticipation, whiling away the hours with games and talking, reading and laughing. It was my brothers and I, my parents, and eventually a little sister and I was happy to go, always, because I was going with my favorite people on earth.

But this has all changed now.

I no longer love airports.

They often make me sad, they often mean good-bye for now, and I often go alone.

They are at worst a lonely trip and at best business as normal with a window seat and a pack of peanuts to make it a little bit better.

Not good, but better.

This is the same with hotels. I used to love their novelty, enjoyed being in a new place, crawling into my as of yet un-slept in bed.

But again, that has changed.

A few weeks ago I was home for one night and Drew, in an effort towards romance, suggested that we stay at a hotel in Philly. I balked. I wanted my red front door, my cats peering at us through the window because they heard the car door slam and knew we were coming home. I wanted a bed that I'd slept in many times before, our bed, with it's familiar smell and blankets that kn0w the shape of our bodies.

I wanted home.

Drew, having not been on tour for the past year of his life, has had a lot of home. I get that, I do. But more than anything else, I wanted home.

And he got that, too.

When I have the luxury of time at home again, I am thinking that airports and hotels might become pretty cool again to me.

But not yet.

9 comments:

beingawesome said...

as much fun as touring can be.. there is nothing like the wonderfulness of some familiar arms and your own bed.

totally get you on this one.

i hope airports one day will become as cool as they once were to you :)

and

sherri said...

I like home too!
And I hardly ever leave!

My son has a band and tours all over, and experiences the same as you.

He loves to travel, and enjoys the excitement of it all, but it always good to come back home.

Tiffany said...

First of all, I feel as if it doesnt get said enough, but your blog is wonderful. Thank you for posting!

Second: Poor thing, I can't imagine how you feel being away from home all the time. (I guess I'll find out in the fall, eh?)However, I hope you are having a wonderful time on tour, and that you get to go home soon!

jason said...

beaingawesome, that final "and" is so intriguing and full of possibilities!

and what?!

The same thing can happen with eating out. It's such an amazing blessing when done in moderation and then this kind of curse when you have no alternative...

jason said...

And Jessica, in the future, please keep your posts about you and Drew and "the romance" to a minimum... this is not "that" kind of blog.

Michele said...

Jessica, you write so beautifully. I know just how you feel. It is also sad that things that can be exciting, can also become tedious :( I'm glad Drew understood - and you know guys - he probably didn't care where he was, as long as he was with you! ;)

Emily said...

Ah, airports, I do love them. And of course it has everything to do with new and exciting adventures... possibilities... but even as home-bound as I am, I still love the feel of my own door, the steps that lead me there, and the perfect way our bodies settle into our bed. Ah, home.

kathiek said...

John has to travel a lot for work and he has always been a homebody. I rarely get to travel anywhere. John has told me that I would get tired of it if I had to do it all the time, but I told him I would like to be given the chance to find out.

Jessica Latshaw said...

being awesome--I agree with jason on this--the 'and' you left us with is soooo ellusive;-)

sherri--how cool your son tours with his band! What band is it?

Tiffany--thank you for your kind words; I appreciate it so much...

Jason--so true about eating out, too; I LOVE to go home and have a home cooked meal; it is truly delightful since I barely ever have that on the road.

And yes, I fear that is exactly what kind of blog this is!

Michele--yes, I agree--I think he was happy just to be with me. But Drew does love traveling and staying in hotels and things like that; we are just on such a different page where that is concerned right now.

Emily--amen, you said it just right.

Kathie--I totally know how you feel about wanting to be able to decide for yourself on whether or not you like traveling! Perhaps there will come a time when you will get that chance--and I bet you'd love it if it involves John;-)