Brussels to Belgium

Side thought of flying internationally: simply said: the food sucks. Ley no e fantastic. (caution: this may not be a real Italian phrase). It is not fantastic- it is far beyond anything near it. It smells of a horses unkempt barn and tastes like a tractor’s rubber tire that has driven over the horse’s manure, “But, hey at least they give us something”- that’s what the guy sitting two seats from mine said when a lady was complaining about the overly thin blanket the airline provided its passengers with. So I will not complain any further about the food, this was just a warning to any one reading.

Flight to Brussels, Belgium:           

            Now that it is dark outside I cannot see much- not the tiny little snow covered city of Philadelphia I just left- but an immense and expansive wing reaching out into the darkness.  It makes me already miss certain people- people I want to talk to and hug- someone familiar. I am not sad, I am quite the opposite. I merely wish to have someone to share my excitement with. Chelsea is sitting several rows ahead of me- and I just made a visit to the laboratory and gave her a hug on the way there. (I couldn’t comprehend why there was an ashtray when they strictly said no smoking was permitted on the aircraft- but the I realized- oh back in the day).

            I was about to doze off, it was the closest I had come to a Z all day- and pretty much last night too, but then the food came by and a movie turned on- which the man sitting two rows next to me highly recommended (Life as You Know it- it’s a sweet flick, somewhat predictable but made two hours of the flight pass by enjoyably and quickly). He and his wife are from New Jersey- and like me, they don’t like the Jersey Shore- speaking of the TV series that is. They are headed off to Spain but know no Spanish. Ay mi Madre! Well, I guess it’s like me going to Italy… ay mi Mamasita!...? Communication is key. So you better start learning the language.

            I felt somewhat tempted to buy a mini red wine bottle- until my wanting was crushed when the stewardess ID’d the young man in front of me. I thought we were out of America already! I thought being overseas counted as “not in America.” Guess not. I wanted a little red red wine, 'cus it makes me feel so fine- and because dinner was terrible. And plus it might put me to sleep. The lady next to me is zonked out- she took a sleeping pill. I’d rather red wine but since I’m not getting it I guess the station of  elevator music I’ve plugged into on the airline radio will suffice to putting me to sleep.

            I’m not dancing with the stars- I’m flying with them! Right out of my window, I don’t even have to raise my eyes to see them. Usually they are above you, but I am with them now, next to them, and above some. The little energizer bunny, I mean boy, sitting in the row above me was mesmerized looking at them- and I asked him if he knew what planet we lived on. He didn’t know but he told me he had a family.  I guess it’s the same thing.

P.S: Chelsea and I tried to buy Belgium chocolate twice at the airport but we needed to buy about eight pieces in order to make a purchase so we decided to wait  to have an Italian treat would suffice.