Things I Did On My 8-Hour Flight from London

So, I was in Europe for January term, studying Western Responses to the Muslim "Other". While I fully intended to keep blogging, competing with 27 other people from Luther for Wifi was a task my phone deemed too difficult to achieve. In an effort to not lose my job, here is my first of a few J-term themed posts, coming straight at you from Chicago O'Hare.

Things I did on my eight hour flight back from London:

1. Pull out my book, water, and music from my bag and prepare for what will be a long afternoon.

2. Feel slightly more giddy than I probably should about the fact that no one is sitting in the seat next to me.

3. Fall asleep before the plane leaves, only after putting on two sweatshirts and two blankets.

4. Wake up, take off all layers, and watch Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day while eating pasta that is surprisingly good and a pretzel roll that is even better.

5. Pee three times in about forty minutes because I've already consumed two Diet Cokes.

6. Read Lena Dunham's Not That Kind of Girl for approximately five minutes, and then fall asleep sprawled out across the empty seat next to me, likely invading my classmate's personal space.

7. Wake up and try to bond with said classmate over Game of Thrones, which he's reading, trying to make myself feel slightly less awkward about essentially falling asleep in his lap.

8. Read more of Lena's book, consuming chocolate ice cream during the portion of her book dedicated to body image. I think she would approve.

9. Feel bored and hungry and start watching other Luther people on the plane. Notice most people sleep with their mouths open. Silently criticize a stranger for being bad at PacMan, before remembering that I am, without a doubt, worse than he is. Feel slightly bad that Moeller is spending practically as much time reading and commenting on my journal as I did writing it.

10. I wander around the plane for a bit, chatting with friends and taking free pretzels. I finish my water bottle and wonder how I can still be hungry despite eating so much food. I take another lap and pat everyone in our trip on the head. (I skip Dr. Green).

11. Eat the snack passed out and drink part of a Coke. Abbey makes fun of me for the amount of soda I've consumed, and my stomach starts to realize how disgusting it all is. (Deep down, I know I'll consume at least one more Diet Coke before arriving at my house).

12. Fill out the form for customs, feeling extraordinarily pleased with myself that I remembered my passport number by heart. Go back to reading Dunham.

13. Finish my book. Start to play Hangman with about twelve other humans.

14. Be told we are landing soon and begin twirling my hair incessantly, feeling incredibly ready to get off the plane (for a few hours before boarding another plane).

Abbey and I in Amsterdam, the first stop of our trip

{ Return to Catherine's Blog for more posts. }

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