I've always wanted to blog from an airport. Maybe it's the idea that creative, introspective thoughts can come to mind even as one is stranded on a layover in a city that wasn't meant to actually be a touchstone in a trip - maybe it's because once I got a very nice match.com email written from an airport. Maybe it's because airports are romantic (please reference opening scene of Love, Actually). Regardless, I haven't had the pleasure of blogging from an airport in my entire history of blogging, because throughout my history of blogging I have been in an airport exactly twice. And at the time I did not have a fantastically portable laptop.

But here I am! I am en route to San Francisco, on a delayed layover in Chicago. I got on a 6am EST flight out of NYC, got here at 7:30am CST, expecting a 2 hour layover to get an a 9:50am CST flight to SF. Then it was delayed til 11:40. Then it was delayed til 12:40. So effectively I will have been here for 5 hours. Damn. Had I known I would have escaped and made someone in Chicago meet me for breakfast. Too bad the only person I know in Chicago is a medical resident and is probably shackled to the ICU.

So my alternative was, I broke down and got a McDonald's breakfast, ate only half of it because I felt so gross eating it, read an entire Glamour magazine, walked up and down the B Concourse at least 5 times, peed a couple times, and then decided to buy internet access for $6.95/24 hours even though I'm only going to use it for a couple hours.

Why? Because. I've always wanted to blog from an airport. And I don't want to blog offline according to Blog 365 rules unless I absolutely have to. Oh, and I'm addicted to the Internet.

So, how was my flight to Chicago? I'm so glad you asked. As a 6am departure, naturally most people got to the airport around 4am. I was there on about 3 hours of sleep and looking forward to a nice 2 hour nap on the flight. It could have been possible, save two incredibly irritating sensory disruptions:

1. crying child, and
2. stank breath.

Yes. There was, in fact, every flier's worst nightmare: a crying child who is so full of anguish and sorrow that he just will not shut up. Now, I have a fair amount of sympathy for crying children, having been a child myself and also comforted many of them in my young adulthood. But what I do not have sympathy for is when your child is sobbing his face off and choking on his babyhood tears and you just.. sit.. and... do... NOTHING. On a 6am flight. I almost screamed.

And then.... then!! I could not turn my head to the left, EVER, because every time I did, the sleeping girl next to me would exhale and the air around us would be filled with her stank breath. I mean... really?? If you know that a. you have horrendous stinky sleep breath and b. you have a tendency to exhale largely when you sleep, then perhaps when you sleep in a closely packed public area, you should, I don't know, chew gum or wear a gas mask.

I apologize for my crankiness. But did I mention I'm stuck in an airport?

At least I get to blog. :)