Saturday, January 12, 2013

Crying a river

God, I can't stop crying. Literally I can't go ten minutes without tears filling my eyes. My face is red from the crying. I'll be surprised if anyone talks to me. Haha.
I'm at the Cincinnati airport right now at gate A11 waiting to go to Chicago. I'm sitting in front of a big window and I can see the plane.
That's my plane and on the right is my hair. I used Photobooth and just turned my laptop around to take the picture now. 
Before I said bye to my parents, we ate at a local Tumbleweed because there weren't any restaurants before security and it was the closest eatery. We figured it wouldn't be bad and wouldn't be great. No it was actually really bad. Like I consider myself pretty accepting of all greasy fast food but I did not like this food. It was just a weird overall experience. We walk in and immediately smell smoke because they have a smoking section. This guy about my age seats us and then asks us for our drinks. So he's a hostess and a waiter? Then he mumbles something about do we want chips and we say no then he asks if we want mild or spicy salsa. Confused, I say mild and he says "Alright I'll be back with your chips and drinks." He came back with our sweet teas and these plasticy shiny hard chips. They tasted like someone deep fried a piece of plastic and sprayed oil on them. Thankfully they didn't show up on the check. When our real food came, it was just as weirdly gross. I got the lunch size enchilada with beans and rice (he asked me what kind of beans I wanted) and the enchilada didn't have sauce over it. It was just a dry tortilla with spicy red chicken inside. I took only one bite of it. The rice was fine whereas the beans were really sketchy. By this point I was pretty untrusting of all the food. I'm sure my iced tea was spit in or made wrong. But it tasted fine. My mom said her pulled pork sandwich was gross too. She told us how she didn't like it and then in the same sentence asked us if we wanted any. We all laughed. My dad liked his burger so at least they got that right. 
I should probably be writing about how nervous I am, how anxious and scared I am and what my expectations are. But I know I'll start crying. The woman came on the microphone and said group 1 is boarding. I'm in group 5 so I can keep typing for a while. Oh group 2! Okay bye. 

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