January 17, 2016
"Oh, you've been separated? I'll make sure to find you seats together, don't you worry," said an Aer Lingus flight attendant in the most charming Irish accent. She, like the plane seats, were dressed entirely in green, and had astutely noticed that my dad and I were headed in different directions. A minute later, we'd been moved up 15 ranks, from the back of the plane to the front, and given an entire row to ourselves. Can you say lucky (charms)? Over break, I read a book called "Setting the Table," written by serial restaurateur Danny Meyer about his experiences in the hospitality industry, and the distinction between coming across as an "agent" who makes things happen and a "gatekeeper" who sets up barriers. That distinction couldn't be more apparent to me than at this moment; Aer Lingus has blown me away with their warmth, whereas even when I fly business class on United, I get the feeling that the smiles I receive are forced and that my requests to the flight attendants are unwelcome.
***
I enjoy plane rides. I remember once having a conversation with some friends about happiness, the long-term kind as opposed to the short-lived rush, and that I eventually came to the conclusion that happiness comes from having something to look forward to. For me, all the physical and mental experiences that make up a plane ride, from being squashed between strangers to daydreaming about what will happen upon arrival, coalesce to form a singularly uplifting episode of anticipation and excitement. Plane rides are the perfect time to hope for the future, and if I can resist the temptation to catch up on movies, to reflect on the past (i.e. journal).
I've never blogged before, because the idea of putting my personal ramblings out onto the Interwebs for judgment terrifies me. Plus, I'm never motivated enough to journal anywhere besides on trains and planes, which totals to approximately two entries a semester. But over Thanksgiving, my neighbors asked me to blog about my escapades in Budapest (Mr. and Mrs. Lasky, this is for you!), and then Jinchen told me to post lots of pictures so she could "live vicariously" through me, and Carter told me to just record my stream of consciousness and promised that he'd call me out if it sounded like I was trying too hard. Also, I realized that I needed to stop flattering myself, because realistically, about ten people might read what I write, anyways. So here goes: new experience #1 of my study abroad adventure = blogging. Inspired by Kevin Chen's (IMSA/Yale alum, the best writer I know) Finding Skylines blog, my goal is to post a vignette and/or picture at least once a week. This first post's on the longer side because my flight to Dublin is six hours.
Saying bye is hard. I get nostalgic super easily, and being left alone to my thoughts on a quiet (or rather, roaring to the point that it drowns out all other sounds) plane leads me to think about all the people who make me feel so loved at Yale and who sometimes make me question why I'd ever want to leave that behind, even if just temporarily, for a semester. It was sad to be clearing out my room and have to say bye to Ivy when she was just moving back in, and before the rest of my suite even arrived. It's bittersweet to think about my friends going on adventures back home and moving on without me. As excited as I am about exploring Budapest and traveling throughout Eastern Europe, and as much as I talk and daydream about swashbuckling adventures abroad, and as amazing and cheap as I hear the food is, and as beautiful… where was I? Oh yeah, I'm really going to miss Yale. And when I say Yale, I mean the people. Every goodbye message (or song) has plucked at the taut, taut strings of my heart.
Before I succumb, though, like a fly drawn to light, to the allure of the TV screen two feet away from my face, I have two quick thank you's to send out. First, to mom, dad, and Carra: thanks for being cool with my going off on my own, yet again. Second, to Kendell: thanks for being the first to tell me about AIT-Budapest and for inspiring me to go abroad by taking the plunge last fall yourself.
Here's to a semester of adventure.