Sarah Morgan
For someone who hasn’t used the word “home†lightly, if at all, in four years, it was really quite nice to “go home†last night. It was so nice to land at splendid Newark Liberty International Airport (I’m not being sarcastic, I really do love that place) on my second-favorite airline, on a direct flight instead of the hellish layover in Atlanta, three whole hours earlier than planned. I even think I saw The Boy’s street as I was landing.
New Orleans was lovely, and I did get to do a lot outside of work. I did a bunch of Christmas shopping, and I had a fantastic dinner, and I walked along Bourbon Street, and I took a touristy bus tour, and I saw a play. And I enjoyed having lots more channels than I pay for, and watched lots of HBO and TLC. Very nice altogether.
It also appears that I come across younger than I am. Which I must admit I like. I don’t know how well it serves me at work, but hey, maybe it makes me look like a prodigy. And I’ll hang on to that for as long as I can. I fear age like Jonathan Larson did in “tick… tick… Boom!.”
30/90 – “You’re no longer the ingenue.”
I’m learning a lot about traveling alone, also. It’s very interesting and it’s kind of nice to do whatever you want whenever you want and it’s good to do things you’re scared of so you don’t grow up to be (am I grown up yet? I don’t think I am) a scaredycat. And strangers are really nice to you when you’re alone, especially if you’re a tourist and, apparently, especially if you’re in the South.
But there are an awful lot of times where you really want – as the Biscuitnoted – to turn around and go, “Hey, look at that!†except there’s nobody there to look at it with you. It sort of makes the looking a little less fun.
But next time anybody wants to go on a trip, my goodness, New Orleans looks like a place to have some fun. And I really did have some, even alone.
