I'm home now. These are just memories from the dream that was a day in the airport. The long westward journey with layover in the middle.
When I tried to leave Florida on Tuesday freak tornadoes struck in Dallas/Fort Worth along with a hail storm damaging half of American Airlines fleet. My flight along with hundreds of others were cancelled.
I earned two more days in the Southern Florida sun and with Dad. But with a broken laptop I was a bit a plugged in fish without an outlet left flopping around with just my iPhone and a tired thumb.
Airports are portals you enter at one location and don't emerge from them until you reach your destination. You get little glimpses of the culture inbetween by glancing at t-shirts and doodads like shot glasses, magnets and spoons with "insert city name here" on them. The airport gift shop the last vestige of the last minute gift giver or me today bored airport citizen passing the time until her connection.
You are treated to bad expensive food by underpaid and over managed individuals, you wait in limbo with your luggage and your stuffed raccoon. You take pictures of mundane items and fiddle with instagram to pass purgatory time away.