Airports, analysis, anticipation

Hooray! I officially don't live alone any more (at least temporarily)! Yesterday Heather and I trekked out to Berlin to pick up Elizabeth at the airport. Her plane was arriving at about 10:40 am, which meant that I had to drag my sleep-deprived carcass out of my bed at about 6:30 to catch the 7:18, but Elizabeth is definitely worth it. :-)

She is also worth the 5 and a half hours that we had to wait for the next plane to arrive from Amsterdam, since a Chicago tempest caused her plane to arrive too late for the connecting flight. (Due to a severe brain fart, I neglected to check on-line to make sure her flight would be on time. Doh.) Thankfully, Heather had her bag-o-entertainment at hand, and we passed the time playing Tetris on her Gameboy, reading a badly-written novel, working crossword puzzles... and people-watching.

I can't help but people-watch in airports, really. They are portals of human transitions: waiting, anticipation, uncertainty, emotional reunions. There is something naked and vulnerable about awaiting someone at an airport, the raw emotions displayed as separated partners embrace, old friends get reacquainted, business partners meet for the first time. Shields come down, and decorum refuses to coexist with joy-- if just temporarily. As always in an airport, I am filled with that longing for homecoming, that little tug of anticipation, that moment of contemplating the uncertainties in my own life.

And Elizabeth did arrive, jet-lagged but in good spirits, bringing with her not only the anticipation of three months of adventure (and my requested can of pumpkin), but also that promise that, for three months at least, I won't have to eat breakfast alone. And indeed my empty little apartment is now filled with our conversations, with stories of her budding nonromance with an old friend, with obsessive analysis and that kind of conversation that only roommates have. "Jess, can you assess the cleanliness of this pan?" :-)

So for a while, Jess-the-living-alone-hermit gets a respite, and Jess-the-roommated-extrovert has a field day. Yahoo!