Ok so I’m at the airport. I got here and said goodbye to my ride and then strapped on my overpriced backpack and took a deep breath. I walked through the first glass door and saw through the windows a bevy of international travelers and airline attendants. I was feeling confident and excited. In my big moment, as I am about to walk into this adventure alone, the automatic door got stuck and only opened a crack. As I collided with the sign on the glass that falsely read “automatic” I was brought back to reality. Of course my trip starts this way, I’m still me after all and entering the airport without a minor incident wouldn’t do. It’s potentially the funniest way to enter the airport, so I’ll take it. Apparently in beginning a journey to “find myself” my first lesson is that I’m basically a dumb bird when left alone. Glass doors everywhere watch out!
I can’t make this stuff up. My eyes darted around to see if anyone witnessed my crash and when I saw that no one had I gave all my weight to the door having to fight against the failed mechanism. I am flying Air France, a decision I potentially regret because in the line to check my bag the French flight attendant was cold and rude, although pretty. A man behind me was yelling something in French that I now assume was, “Move you stupid American! Also: I hate your infinity scarf and everything you stand for.” I don’t know how I was in the way just standing on the line but somehow I was.
Security was simple, a lovely Latino halogram told me all about what to expect and the TSA agents called me “darling” so that’s nice. I didn’t get the pat down I was expecting, but I assume I’ll get some action at customs, they are apparently fiestier.
Now I’ve been to Hudson News and I have everything I think I need. I haven’t stopped shaking but that could be because I haven’t eaten since 2pm and it’s now 8pm. Maybe I’ll see what all the fuss is about with Tobelerone bars. I land in Paris in 6 hours and 40 minutes. Maybe in my three and a half hour layover I’ll write more, if not I’ll post when I get to Dublin.
I really hope I don’t have to poop on the plane.
Update: I have landed safely in Paris and had my first experience with their fancy toilets (that’s right France, you just got to know me a little better). I am enjoying some wacky lounge area with bed-like recliners, foreign outlets and for some reason a weird panda. I don’t think there are pandas in France so I’m confused about the decor theme.