Day One...

Today was a travel day. Originally, I had planned to take the subway out to JFK airport. However, due to train delays when I stopped by my studio, I was running a little behind schedule and ended up taking a car service instead.

Above: Inside JFK's American Airlines Terminal, waiting to board the plane.



It didn't really hit me that I'd be leaving New York until we took off and I looked out the window. So much of my life in New York is centered around the routines and daily rituals that I've created for myself. I was leaving all that.

Above: A view of the Harbor from the window-seat.

Below: Sunset at O'Hare.

From JFK, my flight took me to O'Hare in Chicago. The lay-over was pretty long to begin with, 3 or 4 hours. But then there was a delay and that added an extra 2 hours to my time in Chicago. At first I was really upset, as it would mean that I wouldn't get in until really late. But I swung by one of the airport bars, paid my $7.27 for a Sam Adams Draft and ended up talking with this woman named Timeka, who's living in Atlanta and had recently been robbed and had to pull out like 15 different papers to get a beer with her salad. She had grown up in Brooklyn and was absolutely hillarious. I would have taken a picture of her, but we were having such a wonderful time talking that I didn't even think of pulling out my camera. It was funny, because I recognized several different bead people. I think I saw Paula Best. She is pretty hard to miss with her multi-colored shock of hair.

Below: Welcome to Tucson. (The picture is as fuzzy as I felt.)

When we finally boarded the plane, I was looking forward to collapsing into sweet sleep. That did not happen though. What did happen was a pretty hellish ride. My aisle-seat was next to the restroom and people kept bumping into me. Some knocking me in the head with their various over-sized purses and luggage. The guy next to me was intent on finishing his puzzle book and reading his dentistry papers, which meant that even though the rest of the lights in the cabin were off, his weren't. It wouldn't have been quite as bad had he left his shoes on. But, I guess he wanted to air them out or something, because he slipped his shoes off and filled our half of the plane with the sour smell of his feet. And if you think it couldn't have possibly gotten any worse, it did. Behind us was one of the flight attendent stations. One of them was this extremely LOUD and queeny man who kept sqwuaking the entire trip to his co-worker about how they were getting "screwed over. " By the end of the flight (and his diatribe) I felt I had a working knowledge of the current issues plaguing flight attendants and their union.

Eventually, after 1 AM, we all finally arrived in Tucson. I'm beat.