I must add that my travel companions are extraordinary. The Sun Valley/Buddhist couple is refreshing and interesting. Between the radar detection doohickey that is firmly suctioned to the window so John can speed across the Camas Prairie and the two bickering over reservations, seat assignments, and hotels, this trip is going to be awesome. With John no longer allowed to make reservations or book hotels and with Diane no longer allowed to get a hotel room, it looks like my nights and travels will not be dull. But whose booking the room? I look forward to my travels with and without the couple. To reach my destination after roughly 36 hours of travel will be quite an accomplishment. Now, I just hope I won't get flagged as a security threat trying to take a Western cowboy hat into Bangkok, Thailand with potential 'illegal goods' hidden inside.
John and Diane in Boise airport, preparing for our journey.
Well, we are well into our journey. Diane is going into action and breaking out the yoga mat. I keep nervously checking my passport, afraid that it will mysteriously disappear out of my satchel against my bare stomach. The thing is damn irritating, it will be lucky if it even makes it to Bhutan and not to a dumpster in Minneapolis. John and Diane are great traveling companions. John provides the sturdy hand and aggressive, male personality while Diane is kind, gentle and gets shit done. The two together are excellent.
I’ve arrived in Minneapolis. This has possibly been one of the most exciting airports I have ever been in. The airport itself isn’t all that great, but the mind set the airport helped ease me into is. Every person was so fascinating to me. I wanted to know each individual, their lives, why they were here, what exactly in their lives had brought them here, what their family, friends, and lovers were like. I wanted to know each person, right down to his or her very core. It was incredible.
I am in seat 67E. Oh, does that not sound very far forward to you? Good, because that is the very last row in the 747, or whatever the planes are called. And does E sound like a window seat either? Nope, middle seat. That is right, middle seat in the middle row, in the back of the plane. You know the seats, the one’s that don’t recline because the backs hit the wall. Yep, 12 beautiful hours in a seat that barely reclines, right next to three toilets. Well the plane ride isn’t too long… only 12 hours right? Ha, piece of cake.
I’ve always felt awkward writing on a plane. I constantly feel like someone is looking over my shoulder; like the body-builder businessman to my left. I know that I will only be gone for a few short weeks, but I feel like I’m leaving a part of myself behind. I cut my hair, leaving that behind to rot in a dump. Am I doing that with a part of myself as well? I feel pressured to find a part of myself while on this trip. To uncover my true soul on the bottom of a mossy stone. I want to experience the trip to the fullest; but I still have the desire to escape myself. The remaining 12 episodes of Yu Yu Hakasho lingers at the back of my mind. When I return, will I even want to watch them? Do I need to? Will I be in a place where they are unnecessary and ridiculous? I want to succeed, but I don’t want to disappoint. If I have no expectations, then there can be no disappointments. But I know that even if I don’t have expectations, others will.
This journey isn’t about them, it’s about me. This is all me from here on out. No parents, no friends, no family, no teachers, no classmates, no enemies, no allies. I decide the fate of my own journey. I decide whether or not it will be shadowed by the figures of my past. Because that is what they are, they are my past. I am my future.
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