Made it to L.A.

I wrote this on the plane this afternoon:

I have a love-hate relationship with traveling. On one hand, I love going places and experiencing different things. I also love the hustle and bustle of airports with so many people going so many different places for so many different reasons. The excitement of simply breaking my everyday routine and going someplace different is palpable enough to give me chills when I think about it.

On the other hand, I hate the hassle that goes with traveling. I hate figuring out what to pack and trying not to overpack. I hate the drive to the airport, the parking, the shuttles, and the waiting for flights to board and then take off.

The plane I'm on right now, headed to Los Angeles, is close to being full. There are a few babies crying, but I can't hear them now that I have my headphones on and iPod playing. There's a mom with her two kids sitting in the row behind me. From what I gathered listening to their conversation before and as we took off, the kids may have only been on a plane once before, and it sounds like it was a small one nothing like the 737 we're on now. Their excitement over tiny things like getting pushed back from the gate grew to an almost overwhelming exhilaration as we turned onto the runway and sped up to take off. Their entire conversation was littered with "Oh my gosh!" and "Holy crud!" Ah, the simple life of children. Sometimes I think we all need to take a lesson from kids about how not to take things for granted—things that used to be so full of wonder for us.

Like flying on a plane. It really is pretty amazing when you think about it. Our ability to fly anywhere in the world in a matter of hours (sometimes very long hours… but still…) is pretty incredible. I'm grateful for any opportunity to travel anywhere, regardless of the hassle that comes with it.

Plus, my belly is full of a Mexican hot chocolate right now. I can't complain about anything.