Travel and it's inconveniences

Airports, full of sweaty people pulsing against the constraints of security to hurry up and just wait already. Tempers run short and passengers become exhausted. Weather threatens to make not-so-welcome changes to itineraries and inevitably a screaming baby is swaddled near you on a turbulent ride.

Or not.

I happen to enjoy travel. All aspects of travel. I don't mind the long waits at security, the people that don't understand relatively simple directions, or the long waits at different gates to climb into a plane and sit a while longer. To me, it's all part of the adventure. I relish the excitement that descends upon entering the airport, breathing in the hint of new horizons.

Maybe this wanderlust is a product of being able to go places like Disney World as a child. Maybe not. I've always loved traveling and visiting new places. If I could do that my whole life, I would. (Maybe I went into the wrong profession? Flight attendant? Maybe that would have been a way for me to see the world as it bends and expands.)

Currently, I'm on the flight to San Francisco. (Gotta love being able to write anywhere and upload it later.) Out my window I can see a full moon transform the tops of clouds into a sugary spun pink below me. The flight was delayed 2 1/2 hours, and I don't mind, it affords me this beautiful view. A few thousand miles below me, lights of cities create pockets of fire that peek between the clouds. Nope, I wouldn't give this up for the world.

But with all the parts of traveling that I enjoy, there is one I do not. Bear with me, or I will be forced to turn around and complain rather rudely (with possibly a few choice words) to the woman behind me with a grating voice. She's one of those let's-be-best-friends-and-discuss-our-life-stories-and-politics types that I've only ever had the displeasure of sitting next to once in all of my travels. But I could forgive her that, if it wasn't for the constant vibration of my seat. It has nothing to do with my position on the plane, mind you, but rather the fact that she keeps slamming her hands down onto the tray table attached to my cushion.

Maybe she's Italian? Talking with her hands is a part of her nature? Who knows, but it's very hard for me to do anything, anything, while she's doing this. It's my number one travel pet peeve. Its preventable. There's no need to partake in said behavior. A crying baby? I can get over it with my shining headphones that block out the world of my choosing. A hold up for security because someone didn't read the signs, can't follow other people's lead, and apparently has never traveled before? Ah well, they've never had the opportunity to travel, and my plane will wait, or I'll just have less time to mill around the gate. A delayed flight? Weather is weather, and I'll make my destination eventually.

Being inconsiderate? No, there's no real excuse for that.

So please, next time you travel, don't bang on the seat in front of you. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy your book. Or the view out the window. Or best yet, dream about the new escapades you'll have when you arrive.