It doesn't feel real.
I'm such a jumble of tired, excited emotions right now.
I was sad to leave my family and friends of course. I've never been good with goodbyes; sometimes I avoid them altogether (see: Latvia). But as much as it sucks to say goodbye, there's a big adventure ahead to be had.
May I digress?
Alright. I have a bone to pick with parents. I know it must not be easy to fly with kids in tow. It must be awful. But, let me tell you, when the woman with the 7 month old son whom probably doesn't really know what's going on can control and soothe her child better up in the air better than YOU- yeah, I am talking to you seat 27C- there is something wrong with the way you are disciplining your child. Yeh, I SAID IT!
This kid was at the very least three years old. She could form complete sentences. She was chatting along with her parents until the plane took off. Then? Just continual screaming! Crying! Howling! Yelling! And what did her mother do?
Nothing. Just... Sat there.
Okay, I know sometimes you have to let your kid jus get it out until they get tired and realize that they are embarrassing themselves. Heck, my parents would do that. But I learned to stop. Also, if I was told on the count of three to shut up or ELSE? Yeah, I learned to shut the hell up.
An HOUR. Yes. An hour.
Let me put this into perspective. An hour is the time it takes to drive from Stonewall to the U of M on a busy traffic day or with construction. The length of an episode of Jersey Shore (how they can make something like that an hour baffles me) or perhaps the time it takes to cook a small chicken in the oven. Can you imagine a small child screaming for that length of time with the parent doing nothing about it?
I can.
Anyway, enough criticism about awful plane parenting. I'm done my rant.
So, I'll be in London in about 12 hours. A little crazy. I'm still having trouble believing it.
Playlist: The Beatles, The Clash, The Wombats
Location:Toronto
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