Summer 2012 - Day 5

Today began in DC, and I made myself eggs with ham. Friend's Husband and I talked, I started laundry, and continued to pack my things. After putting the clothes in the dryer, we set out for the grocery store and the post office, me with the things I meant to send to my parents and my apartment, and Friend's Husband with a re-usable grocery bag. We discussed many things en route to the grocery, where I picked up Brillo pads, and Friend's Husband got Crab Chips, tortilla chips, and cat food. We paid and set off for the Post Office. I dropped a letter to myself into a mailbox, only to be opened if I was not able to open it because I couldn't return to Berkeley.

When we arrived at the actual Post Office, I selected packages and wrote my addresses. Sending things seems too simple, addresses don't seem like enough, and $16 to send something to my parents by Thursday doesn't seem like enough. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to mess up. I feel like another friend, who often lamented on her blog when she felt good and things were going right that something, SOMETHING, had to go wrong, somehow. That is why I sent the letter to myself.

We walked back to the apartment, and I continued to do things online and pack my things. I did finally get some photos of the wonderful cat who had amused me so, and made my separation from Bitey less difficult. We also went to a Greek restaurant where i got a Gyro salad, and was only able to finish half of it.



At 2, Friend's Husband and I set out for Dulles, and the something-something hangar, where the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum kept all the stuff that was too big to keep downtown, like the SPACE SHUTTLE. I learned about why the highway to Dulles was split - with a two-lane (in each direction) in the middle of a three lane highway. It apparently has everything to do with Virginia refusing to build a highway to Dulles, the Federal Government refusing to let Virginia get away with being stingy, and people abusing the system. The details are hilarious. Eventually, we made it to the Hangar.

A very unassuming exterior.

We went in, and I noticed all of the planes, then I shifted my gaze down and geeked out like a 13-year old boy, In front of me was one of *those* planes - a cool looking, super awesome probably-once-mistaken-for-a-UFO plane, the SR-71. A photo was captured and was quickly sent to Co-Worker and Roommate. We then went down the stairs, and I spied the shuttle in the background, but wasn't ready to go see the Space stuff yet - delayed gratification and all. We walked around all of the aircraft, finding one famous wonder after the other - Nazi planes, the Enola Gay, the Concorde, experimental helicopters, Ross Perot's "Spirit of Texas", the plane that helped Whooping Cranes learn migration.

Seriously, as soon as you walk in.

 

In case you don't remember, this happens to be the helicopter Ross Perot flew around America in 1992.

The aircraft used to help Whooping Cranes migrate again.

  

Then there was the space room.

Dun dun dun.

Friend's Husband and I marveled at the Space Shuttle Discovery, and remarked on how any of the missions ever were successful. Those that knew the craft were aware that it was going up on a wing and a prayer - that we only had 2 disasters is one of the very few arguments I can think of for a higher power that watches over us.

This went into space.

I felt that the back of the shuttle was more impressive, as it was the "business end", so to speak. And there was more to be seen - a full-size prototype of the Mars Rover, rockets of all kinds, the first satellites launched after Sputnik, the Apollo 11 capsule that landed in the ocean, Gemini and Mercury capsules, and even the Mobile Quarantine Unit, to protect us all from the Moon Germs.

Where they prepare new arrivals for display.

Eventually, we hit up the restrooms and left for Dulles, feeling somewhat overwhelmed - at least I was. At Dulles, I said my goodbyes, and headed for the check-in counter. After a wait in line, and a wait for the attendant at the desk to type a million things into the computer, I was on my way to the security checkpoint, which, being Dulles, included having my boarding pass scribbled all over and stared at quite a bit by a very attractive TSA agent, who I thanked and called by name, having my hand wiped with some agent, then tested (what can that be for?), and going through the cancer machine. After I made it through with all of my precious things, I took time in the Recombobulation Area (as it would be called in Milwaukee, and possibly other airports) to get out my microUSB cord. Then I walked to the tram, this time, getting a picture of that middle bar.

I ascended the other escalator, in the same room I had been in on Friday morning, and found my gate. I tried to call my parents, and after the second attempt, left a message. I walked around the airport, the empty airport, then eventually sat down at a Tequileria to have some kind of meal. I wrote out a letter to co-workers about not having VBCA mail for the next week, and had two crab cakes on a bed of lettuce, mainly to calm my crazy dehydration more than anything. After paying for the food, I walked over to the gate, where people were lining up. I resisted the line for a long time, then just as I had joined it, they said that anyone in rows 21-24 could board at the other gate, and my seat was 21E. I went to the other gate, somewhat in disbelief, since I didn't have an assigned seat for the flight (a seat that I picked when I bought the seat, I mean), and figured that I had a bottom-of-the-barrel seat, but they let me in, and I boarded the plane. I learned that my seat was in the middle section of the plane, but the first row behind Business Class - or maybe Club Select? It didn't matter, all it meant was LEG ROOM!

I stood for as long as possible, noticing that a family with three small children were right next to us - three LOUD small children. I alternated between smiling at the youngest, who I knew would have a hard time with the ascent, and whose crying would be inevitable, and glaring. The youngest was bad enough, but the parents, apparently, never taught the concept of "inside voice" to the two older kids, and their excited shouts grated on me.

We took off, the drink cart came by, and I finished reading Roommate's textbook on the making of the modern world. I tried to sleep, but the familiar tingling in my hands returned. I now think that it has to do with the altitude or other issues, more than any kind of static posture, but I decided later to just stay up through the flight. I also was unhappy with the in-flight entertainment radio stations due to the lack of Mandarin Pop music, or anything similar. But when I checked out Essential Albums, I found The Smiths, and a playlist of only the best, so I let Morrissey's beautiful voice wash over me for the entire flight. I refused the meal, as I couldn't imagine cramming more calories into my body just to sit in a chair. I will have coffee when we are closer to landing.

There are two more hours left to fly, but I will end Day 5 here, just before midnight, Eastern Daylight Time.