Traveling anywhere.

 It’s not that I’m complaining.

 I have a pretty blue suitcase that was a wrap gift from the TV show,        “ Orville.” I am very good with little zip up bags with specific needs. The glass and pens packet. The cables packet. The immediate toiletries packet. The “ should I bring mascara ?” packet. I roll clothing. I have shoes in zip up red bags. I have my two passports just in case one of my countries does something dubious and I need to swivel allegiance. I have scarves to save tired hair. I have lipstick to brighten my tired skin.

I had the unexpected and, let’s face it, fantastic chance to upgrade, courtesy of my traveling companion Cynthia, who has more miles on Hawaiian air than there are lava lamps in the world.

But nobody….nobody should fly anywhere for 25 hours.

Your body feels like a random selection of metal rods that have lost the connecting instructions. Your mouth will not come back from fuzzy. The bottles of water you drink send you tottering to the lavatory where you try to balance over the loo with feet carefully placed to miss other peoples misses. The vegetarian meal you ordered comes out with vegan margarine, and a tomato spaghetti that would embarrass an Italian child. You don’t want it, but you eat it, because there is something so endearing about those little square boxes of food on the tray and the salt and pepper that is dressed up as a Hawaiian shirt.

In the pursuit of good looking nightwear that I try to disguise as traveling clothes, I wear clothing free of zips and buttons. I want to look together and current. Words I have seen in advertisements. I want to report that I am never anywhere near current and as for together.. by the end of a long flight the elastic that was meant to be my friend has given up the fight and has left me more shapeless than the mashed potato you wished you could have had instead of the vegetarian spaghetti.

But here I am, 25 hours later. 4 hours behind. 1 day ahead. In New Zealand.I am hoping for a more stylish future. 

I will let you know how that works out. 

I don’t hold out much hope.