Waiting for a plane

Today I’m flying to Phoenix. Not-very-long story short: I was planning to do a 3-day training/certification class in Seattle in mid-April, but last Thursday ended up rescheduling it to the same class in Phoenix this week.

Although I’m hardly a frequent-enough flyer to even come close to making any sort of VIP status, I am well acquainted with travel. In fact, Sea Tac will be seeing me again in two weeks when I set off to claim an Irish stamp in my passport. Last month I took advantage of the lowest prices (to my knowledge) Alaska offers and hopped across the State to Spokane.

I keep thinking of Panama today, moreso than I did last time I was enjoying the hospitality of Sea Tac. Perhaps because Spokane is such a short distance and a place I am well-familiar with, or because I was able to get an earlier standby ticket and practically walk onto the plane from security. Regardless, the stasis of airports easily lends itself to memories of past trips and contemplations of the world of transit that seems almost entirely separate.

The world is a strange place, and to make an ill-fitting allusion, seemingly filled with paradoxes like that of Schroedinger’s cat. Things that in one breath are and are not. Unanswerable questions. Questions like when is Allison going to write her masterpiece poem or essay that amounts to the culmination of her confusing thoughts and will eradicate further need to wander into the realm of philosophizing when she blogs.


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