first class

from my travel journal-- tuesday, march 15, 2011. i scribbled this down on the plane around 7:35pm. 
between then and now, parts of my life have changed almost drastically while others have somehow stayed almost annoyingly the same. so, for what it's worth posting now, here you go~ 

on the plane. 
slowly starting down the runway. it just stopped.

first class turns out to be awesome. after the pilot and i exchanged a brian regan quote about first class and the lady took my jacket to hang on the coat rack, i noticed the mini water bottles, blankets and pillows. i thought to myself, yeah. this is gonna be a good flight.

i'm somehow sort of glad no one is sitting next to me so i can be solo one last time before i come back to-- the chaos, mess, business, productivity, stress, and responsibility (all good and bad) that is my life --to gather my thoughts and process them alone.

review, remember. looking over the last week and a half (has it only been that long?) is a blur. seems like it's been a lifetime, and here's why: i have quite unintentionally blended together my new york summer and my new york break 9 months later--and somehow stitched them together with lots of different emotions. 

everything in those 9 months between the two trips, i'm scared, will now be stitched together by the daily life i have to look forward to upon coming home, and new york will thus be sewn completely out of my thoughts.

i hope not.

i'm going to fight to keep them there so i can channel some of the life of that, what, 8 week-- experience? and all the inspiration, realization, actualization, growth, wonder, rush, frusration, feeling small, feeling big, and confusion that is MY new york experience.

plane is finally moving again, faster this time. 

no one else can take my experience there away from me or duplicate it; it is mine and mine alone. i feel i handle things better -- i process all that input better there because it was -- is -- my adventure.

plane paused again. yess! -- 

yes? part of me wants to stay; the rest of me knows i have to go back home.

as if it could hear my thoughts -- the plane's engine started its slow rumble and has resumed creeping down the runway....

ugh, why can't i function at home as well as i do in new york? maybe it's the charm, energy and friction of new york that i need to take home with me. others may think -- 8 weeks. c'mon, it's not that long.

no, i suppose not.

but if one moment can change one's life -- and it can -- then i'm pretty sure my 8 weeks so far there have had lots of little moments that have vastly impacted me.

i can hear the engine really rev up. 

it's like, "um...k, kristin. i've given you time to philosophize; now it's time i take you back. you ready? cuzz......eeeveryone else is waiting on you."

yeah. seems to happen a lot in my life lately. sorry, planebuddy...just trying to figure things out before i left this place again. guess, like always, i'll just have to start flying and figure it out on the way. i'm ready....
plane holga (unintentionally creepy)
the plane seems to tease me. only now that i say i'm ready, its heightened sound isn't matching its actual speed. it just rounded a bend, nonchalantly rolling over more of the rocky runway.

still, same speed. for some reason i'm getting anxious to be in the air - the unknown where you can't even see a solid foundation.

just snapped a picture out the window with miss holga. the plane stopped. and now...it's going.

faster, faster.

holding miss holga tight. bumpy. flashing lights. i barely notice i'm in the air when i see the skyline outside the window tilt. i am pushed into the cushy, wide chair as i watch the perfect rows of lights down below get hazy with the clouds that separate us and the city.

peace out, ny. we'll meet again. 
regardless of my feelings, i'm headed home. 

at least i'm coming home first class.


ps, sometimes purging my thoughts in such a conceptual manner exhausts me, but it's the way that they come out of my head so effortlessly and seep into my pen and onto my paper. and so, it must be done.

pps. i later discovered warm towels, big pockets in the seats in front of me, nicer pull-out trays, and a full 4-course complimentary meal. didn't get the head of a pig, but in the end, i still felt pretty fantastic about being on the other side of that mysterious first-class curtain. 


Jacob said...

I'm glad you liked NY just as much this go around and I'm jealous of your first class-ness. Miss you much and I hope to see you around this Fall!

James said...

Coming home is always rough, but Utah is better. I remember one plane ride coming home to Utah after two years of being away and the sky was all gross and inverted and depressing. It was like welcome home/don't be happy. :)

--jeff * said...


beautifully dang.

i love how your thoughts flowed through the writing like water through rocks and trees. yes, there are still questions; like you said, possibly more questions now that when you originally wrote this. but i'm glad that you've had experiences like your time in new york city, events that happened in a rather short space of time but which influenced you for the rest of your life (i'm also rather jealous that you've spent so much time more time than me in that great city.)

remember, there's a lot of alphabet still to come. {*

and yeah, flying first class is boss.