airborne

[mood] bored
[music] nada
[season] of anticipation

One year of planning, four hours of sleep, and I am finally flying over to Bohol, stuck between silly airplane games and airline souveneirs that nobody is buying. I'm trying very hard to hold my pee while the lavatory hovers about 20,000 steps away. Well, just four rows to the back, actually. Don't you just hate it that lavatories are (sigh) communal? Up here, they don't seem to recognize the physical difference between the two genders and the female's dire need to sit on a clean seat.

"We're on time, 95 percent of the time." Nice. and i had to be so lucky today to figure in the five percent of delayed flights.

About half an hour later:
Just like any other domestic airport, expect the usual entourage of tour operators haggling at your face the moment you step out: "Ma'am, Alona Beach??" / "Ma'am, Panglao? Panglao? Panglao Island?" / "Ma'am Loboc River cruise? Tarsier?!"

Great. I feel so welcome. Speed dial to my friend who promised to pick me up at the airport.

"Could you wait by the cafeteria? I"ll be there in ten minutes."

It's hot in Tagbilaran. I have never really basked in this kind of heat for a long while now, not since I've been burying myself in The Deep Freeze (read: The Office). But I like it, despite the little annoying rashes that have started popping on my chest. I think my cholorphylls are reacting.

Seems like any other small city in the country where cars, tricycles, bikes, people, and animals all share space on a narrow road. It's noisy, typically chaotic, and very, very hot. And so my five-day journey to being lingiustically marginalized begins.