So, yesterday, after a lame homeschool graduation, an awesome graduation party with a million friends, and a quick goodbye to some of those friends, my family and I left for Alaska.
It was a long, long trip. The first flight (to Pheonix) was quite tedious, but not exactly miserable. I got in the plane and sat apart from my family. I was alright with it because I like meeting new people, and I planned on reading most of the time, anyway. I ended up meeting some nice and not so "nice" people.
When I sat down in our first plane, there was a lady named Katherine and her darling 16 month old daughter, Elizabeth. I was getting pretty excited about sitting next to them for a whole plane ride. But, alas, it was not to be. She was on the wrong side of the aisle and her seat was taken by an elderly couple. But it was alright, I suppose. They were a nice elderly couple. They slept most of the time, so I didn't really talk to them much. When they did talk, I found out that they were from Manilla. I thought that was pretty cool. I'd love to go to the Philippines.
My seat was the very last one in the plane. I just sat there and read quite a lot of To Kill a Mockingbird. I'm enjoying it. By the end of the trip I had finished half of it. Mostly the trip was just, you know, peaceful. Baby Elizabeth cried and screamed for about two hours straight, but it was fine. The stewardess gave her some ice cubes, and that pacified her for a time.
The second trip was quite a different experience. I went in knowing that I was sitting with strangers again, however, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Our flight left around 11:00 PM Eastern Time and we arrived in Anchorage at around 4:20 AM. It was a long flight--which I should have spent sleeping.
The moment I saw the man, all hopes of an enjoyable flight dwindled. He looked the part of a guy who would be more than willing to live in an old trailer and spend his day in a rusty boat, never taking a shower or cutting his hair...or doing anything remotely related to hygiene. He also smelled horrid and his face was covered with acne. Really, it was nasty. What's worse is his red pillow had suspicious stains (which I later realized were not the result of sobriety), and he was wearing a hat to "cover up where his friend shaved some of his head." Yeah. He talked a lot. He also snuffed something up his nose. I'm not sure what it was, but...yeah. It was definitely an experience.
He asked me about my religion, my politics, and if I "smoked or drank?" I told him that I didn't and don't plan to either. He was surprised. His policy on life was that you should try everything before you die (and he had tried about everything, believe me). He mentioned quite a few times that he regretted many of his actions, but he doesn't see any reason to change his lifestyle. I questioned this. It was discussed.
I was also able to share my testimony. He listened. He was interested. He didn't agree. But that's alright. I think, sharing the concept of "being kind to everyone no matter what the circumstance and basically just living a good life" was something that could possibly impact an eighteen-year-old, atheistic druggie. He had gone through many religions in his childhood: Mormonism, Catholicism, and Christianity. He basically denied it all, and for understandable reasons. I told him of my experiences with God and about my awesome church. It was different than his experience, for sure.
Anyway, he talked and talked and talked...and talked. Really, he wouldn't shut up. Some part of me wished that I had been like the guy in the window seat who had taken his seat, raised his eyebrow at the repulsive guy beside him, blocked off society with a sleeping mask and ear plugs, and was not heard from again. Instead, I was deprived of sleep and kept up until 4:20 listening to stories about different drugs, drinking parties, being arrested, getting kicked out of English classes for saying obscenities about Obama, and the OH SO ENJOYABLE fishing stories. It was a time. Yes, yes indeed.
I felt bad for the guy in the aisle across from me. I glanced over at him pityingly multiple times. He tried to sleep. I'm sure of it. But he didn't. In fact, I believe he was forced to listen to every word of the conversations had by Drugs Guy and me. I guess he was tolerable of it enough, though. He looked pretty awesome, too. He had long dreadlocks, wore brown pants and a brown shirt, and had white shoes. His dark glasses gave him a "yeah, I'm cool and can't be bothered" sort of look. I would have talked to him, but he didn't look like the talkative sort, and the other guy wouldn't stop talking.
I was glad to get off that plane.
Aunt Celesta and Uncle Dennis picked us up at the airport and drove us to their house. It's quite nice. I slept for a very long time.
The lake was nice, too.
There was a man fishing and planes landing and a sign.
Meanwhile, Uncle Dennis was back at the house preparing some meat.
I do believe we shall be eating well on this trip.
