So, I got to the plane. Yep. I cleared all the crazy hurdles of international travel all by myself! There was a moment of shear terror when I couldn't find the check in for Air France (cleverly disguised as Delta - with no signs telling you this).
E-tickets make me nervous, especially when the stupid check-in kiosk feigns no knowledge of your reservation. Fortunately, the kind lady at the counter found me in the system and took my super heavy cumbersome bag so that I could glide freely through the airport and off towards the excitement that is security.
Did you know there were planes with stairs in them? WHAT??? (said in my best Ellen impression) That's right, there are planes with stairs in them. I, my friend, am UPstairs. How freaking cool is that? I am a hair more excited about this trip than I was about meeting Deb(orah)bie Gibson this summer. I know, how is that possible? I thought I had reached the pinnacle of excitement then. Apparently there might be MORE to life than Debbie Gibson.
I took today off of work and had a leisurely morning of biscuits, coffee and magazines. Then I got OCD all around the house, made the PERFECT Paris playlist for the iPod, worked out and called my sister and my parents to chat. Now... UPSTAIRS on a plane! I love it.
I hope I can sleep on the plane. I'm doping up on Tylenol PM, but I have little optimism that this will be a restful flight.
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