3.29.16 - 3.30.16

3.29.16 - 3.30.16

San Francisco, California

I've always liked planes. I like exploring new places and cities and people. the cool kids call it “wanderlust.” I began describing myself as wanderlust long before they found out what it meant but now it's too mainstream to use. 

I like to take my shoes off and press my feet into the floor and feel the vibrations of the plane. When it begins to accelerate on the runway I say a little prayer, "Lord," I say "please bless this plane and these pilots and these people. Help them find their purpose and bring them peace." 

I put on my headphones and play nice music and turn it up real loud. Usually I look out the window but I close my eyes during take off with my feet pressed into the floor. 

What gets me every time is the drop. The drop during take off when it feels like the plane is changing gears to get more speed, to have the engines work less. Every time it feels like the plane is going to just drop out of the sky right then and there.

Right now I can see the Golden Gate Bridge out the window as the plane is making a sharp left turn. We're over the ocean now. I'm sitting on the right side of the plane, all I can see is the ocean. If we were on the left side I'd be able to see the faint outline of the California coastline, but I can see the ocean stretching out to the horizon where the red and yellow are beginning to appear because of the approaching sunset. 

This plane ride is 1 hour and 6 minutes. I finished my book before we took off, I knew I would so I bought another one in the airport. I am on page 19. Mom is going through her emails even though she has no internet because we haven't reached 10,000 feet yet. 

We were in San Francisco for 34 hours and she was working for 4 of them.  Yesterday we flew in and walked around the a college. We were supposed to tour another one but ditched it. We ate lunch three different times at three different places that day. One of which was in China town at a restaurant that had the most Yelp stars in the area (which was 3.5). They had photos of the owner and Barack Obama in the window and a fish tank in the back. No one ordered fish because every once and a while they would take one of the swimming fish out of the tank with giant prongs and we heard a loud sizzling coming from the kitchen. 

We walked through the fancy stores around union square and talked to many people. But the best was when we sat in silence and looked at all the people walking by, figuring them out. We ate gelato and complained about all that we were eating. We convinced ourselves it was okay because we were "carbing up" for an adventure. 

The main purpose of the two day trip was for me to see colleges. We saw three. I really don't want to go to school in California but mom wants in-state tuition so I agreed to at least see them. Considering that San Francisco is so different than Orange County, I thought that I'd feel different too. But it felt the same, I mean obviously different but still California. I want to go to Washington. or Texas. or North Carolina. Just not California. 

But I had fun, don't get me wrong. I have shin splints from walking everywhere in boots but that's my own fault. 

I didn't buy as many things as I thought I would but what I did get was rewarding enough. I bought a mug and a postcard at the museum. I mainly buy postcards to pin to my wall. I have this cork board with a map of the United States and blue pins for places I've been, white pins for places I want to go, and red pins for potential colleges. I also pin movie ticket stubs, postcards, name tag stickers, and keychains to the surrounding cork. 

I also bought a hat in the city. It's a deep red, 20's style hat with a bow on the right side. I am wearing it now. When the man in the airport bookstore complimented it I realized that he has never seen me without this hat. For all he knows I am a nice young girl who is wearing a tan backpack and traveling alone (mom was in the bathroom). This girl isn't scared of plane turbulence and and understands sudoku. She is able to keep up with her blog that actually has readers and has a real boyfriend as opposed to a made up one. 

Little did that bookstore cashier know that I am only a few of those things. I am actually quite terrified of airplane turbulence and have tried and failed sudoku too many times. I am going to try my blog again but it never had any readers. I've never had a real boyfriend (only pretend ones) and I got my first kiss at the age of 17. 

The sunset wasn't as grand as I thought it would be. There's a red ribbon of light around the horizon there the water meets the sky but it is not cascading up towards the heavens as I had imagined it would. There is turbulence and mom and I grab the arm rest at the same time. Mom used to have to take Xanax on airplanes, I am usually okay. 

I don't really want to go home. Hat girl's home would be Seattle, and she would love it there. She would never get tired of the rain. 

If the ocean wasn't black I think I'd be able to see Catalina right now. The dropping feeling is worse when descending. The plane is turned in such a way that I can no longer see the red ribbon out the window just a solid black-blue sheet and the constant flashing of the light on the wing. 

The plane just beeped twice. That means we're getting close. My ears keep popping even though I'm yawning and chewing gum, I always hope that I won't have a sinus pressure attack because there's not much that can stop it. 

If I press my head against the wall I can see the city lights. So many lights, so many people. The major freeways look like rivers of light flowing through a solid mass. I don't know the names of these freeways. Even in the dark it's all familiar, and I know that after senior year I'm getting away. 

We're close to the ground now. I can read the names on the buildings. I know that we just flew over the 405. I do a mental countdown to touchdown. I have to push onto The seat in front of me to keep from flying forward.

I put my shoes back on even though we'll be taxiing for a while. We'll get off the plane into the same airport I've grown up in, to the same car, to the same house. Tomorrow I'll do the same homework and Monday I'll go back to the same school. There's only one year and half a semester left.