Seat 26A

Artist: David Gray
Song: Life in slow motion
Lyric: “Life in slow motion, somehow it don’t feel real”

The plane took off smoothly from Ft. Lauderdale airport at 15 minutes past 11 a.m. I’ve been awake for what seems like forever. I got to thinking late last night and got one of those light sleeps that you wake up two hours into and feel like almost 12 hours have elapsed. Needless to say, I stayed up thinking about my trip and popped in a dvd (“Best in Show”) and gradually fell asleep. Of course, just as I seemed to be getting into that heavy sleep that either a vigorous shaking or cold water is needed to wake you up it was time to get ready for my long day ahead. The weather outside was colder than it has been since I could remember. I felt as though I was already in New York, but it set the mood for what’s to come. The drive down to the airport was therapeutic in a sense (my dad was riding shot gun and I had no escape). When you’re preparing for a trip this big it’s hard not to think about all the possibilities…. Both good and bad... abroad and on the home front. You worry, you get excited, you feel the adrenaline your body boil up and the endless stream of tears seems almost inevitable. No matter how many times you tell yourself that this is going to be fun, it’s a good experience, there’s nothing to be sad about. It’s almost typical of me to sit there and deny myself of everything that my head is thinking and my body is reacting too. Ever since I’ve booked the flight out to London I’ve wanted to feel something. Something to let me know that this was real, that what I’m about to do is a once in a lifetime ordeal and that few will ever get this opportunity. Well the time came and not a tear was spared. As we approached the check-in counter my grandfather immediately jumped on my case (typical of him). He was worried that I wasn’t going to be able to handle myself and is overly cautious about me making sure I have all the right documents, money and what have you. I’m a lot like him. You see the way my family base works is that I’m the life and pride of the Ortega clan. I share a special relationship with each and every one of my family members and trips like these make those relationships all the more special and they surface. Boy do they surface quickly too. As my family left me at the gate the experience felt surreal. I didn’t want to cry, but I did. I’m leaving my entire support group behind to move to this gigantic city that could either eat me up and spit me out or change me forever. I hugged each one of my relatives firmly conscious to take in every smell, embrace and sensation that I could so I would not forget that very moment for the next 6 months. I want to remember them in that instance, in that split second in time when nothing else seemed to matter except my recollection of the firm and warm hugs I received from each one of my family members. It was hard saying “see you later” especially because I refused to say goodbye. A lot can happen in 6 months and every doubt in your mind seems to rush through you at that instance when your family is forced to leave you at the gate and there’s no entry for them. That’s when I was on my own. Of course, they stuck around to see me go through all the check-in procedures. Behind the blue rope waving, crying, smiling and screaming out “Andrew we love you!” at the top of their lungs in an attempt to embarrass me. It’s classic of my father to do that. To see them stand there and see me off was almost to much to watch, you think what if that’s the last time I see them? I couldn’t help but turn my back on them and focus on what lied ahead. It’s funny because for those minutes I felt so loved, not to say that I never had before, but it just felt 100 times more special. People around me saw it and I felt it. The gentleman behind me smiled as my family waved their hands furiously as if I couldn’t make their faces out. He turns and says to me “You have quite the fan club,” and I smiled at him and said “Yea. Lucky me right?”

So there I was emptying the contents of my life into these tiny gray bins and practically undressing so as not to make the metal detectors go off. I was off and still it felt fake. You know when you walk through life and you feel it and sense that you’re taking everything around you for granted? That’s how it felt walking down that long hallway to the gate. I hate that feeling. I wanted to remember that walk, the awkward feeling, and the desperate attempt to hide my uncertainty. I found a seat near my gate and the area was filled with people who I simply assumed were all heading to New York. The voice on the intercom called for ticket holders in “Group 2” to proceed to the gate. I guess it was the excitement, nerves and anxiety that caused me to suffer a momentary lapse of stupidity. I popped up and walked over to the gate. I confidently showed my ticket to the lady at the counter who I assume knows what her job description entails… checking that I’m getting on the right flight. The computers were down and she was doing the check-in procedures manually. Useful information that I find out about later of course. I walk down the narrow hall fumbling with my carry on , jacket and bag. I board the plane and awkwardly stroll down first class bumping into seats and peoples knees with my carry on. The bag is filled to capacity and to put it simply it should not be considered a carry on. Lucky for me the pilot was already on board and decided to make an announcement over the PA system. He says “Hello and welcome to American Airlines flight whatever direct flight to Dallas, Texas and blah blah blah.” DALLAS, TEXAS!!! I felt like an idiot. There was a line of people behind me making their away down the awkward little walkway with their oversized carry-ons, strollers and bags. I asked the steward whether this flight was going to Texas just in case my hearing had become faulty due to the obsessive iPod listening. He said “Yes.” Confidently. I thought well great I’m on the wrong flight. Imagine my embarrassment when the guy calls out to the front steward “He’s gotta get off, he’s on the wrong flight.” He then turns to me and says “how did you get on this plane?” I explain to him in complete humiliation that the lady just let me on. So, I patiently crammed my way into one of the seats until they could hold the line in order for me to walk back through that little tunnel. All I could do was laugh because I hadn’t taken off and I already had one of THOSE experiences. I think to myself that it’s situations like that, that will make this trip all the more interesting for me.

As the plane ascended upward over Ft. Lauderdale beach I looked down at the specs that I know are people and cars. From up here you realize how everyone is just a spec in the millions of people in the world. Suddenly everything you once though mattered fades away and your left staring down at hundreds of clouds scattered like stepping stones amidst the sparking blue water. You feel like you’re playing Nintendo because the view doesn’t seem real or possible. The clouds seem to dance above the blue water that turns into this canvas. With just the right altitude the sun hits the clouds casting a shadow on the blue canvas making the cotton balls look tangible and 3-Dimensional. They seem like they’re just in arms reach. I sit here inspired to write and think about what still lies ahead. I still cannot believe that I will be spending 6 months in a city as historic as London. In writing, I find my appreciation for this opportunity, for the smaller things I may often overlook, for my family, my life and my future. It’s really one of the world’s wonders that so much exists around us and as humans we remain unaware. I’m merely 2 hours into my trip and I’m amazed at how much I’m able to write and comprehend already. Just imagine for a second the abundance of stories I will be able to tell in just 6 months.