little bitty girl

Here I am, once again at the airport. I have to say that I find this to be one of the best places to people watch, one of my all time favourite pastimes. I just love the new Terminal 1 at Pearson International. Everything is so shiny, pristine and fresh. The one thing that I do detest however, is the insane line ups at the Air Canada counter despite the fact that they have the self help kiosks. I always have to treat a domestic flight like an International one.

There was the cutest little boy, aged around three or four who was being very funny. He kept telling knock-knock jokes, mainly to himself and was just killing himself with laughter. I love kids like that as it reminds me so much of myself and I still am that person who is wholely entertained by my own humour or stupidity. I can't wait for Camden, Stefan's nephew (more on him later) to be that age although he is really entertaining now as he is.

Do you ever see couples and sometimes wonder what makes them tick? I am sure people think that of Stef and I. Him being the tall, silent type and me, being the short chatty type. There was this one couple that made me pause. She was young and of Asian descent and he was a significantly older Caucasian male. They had a very beautiful daughter who luckily looked more like the mother than the father. I couldn't help but think "mail order bride." Perhaps it's unfair of me to say, although she was walking slightly behind him with daughter in tow while he just went along his merry way.

I am often in awe of people who do not dress comfortably for long flights. I always try to travel in the comfiest, closest to pajama outfit I can find - worn in jeans, hoodie and unlaced Converses, ready to be kicked off once on the plane. I was admiring a lady in a very tight dress teetering on killer shoes. The shoes were absolutely gorgeous and I was slightly distracted by them when she came by and proceeded to run over my foot without apologizing. The devil does indeed wear Prada.

You know you travel a lot when the security check in has long lines, and you know that there is a lesser known security check in at the lower level. (Crap! I just let the cat out of the bag) You know you travel too much when you get pulled aside for a "random" pat down and the security guard recognizes you from the last time she had to give you the same "random" pat down. I just want to know what it is about me that screams "She really wants to be the random pat down" EVERY TIME. At least she apologized, but still.

It really, really helps to be a girl as I almost always manage to carry on three bags when the limit is two. Sure I say one is my purse but it really is so large that it shouldn't signify.

They have a really, really good bookstore at this terminal as well which is always deadly for me as I love buying books. Since I never travel to Vancouver with less than four books, I decided to practice self-restraint. Although I am now convinced that Marie has blatantly lied to me about the new Lucky being out as I have been to six bookstores in the past three days with no sight of the phantom magazine. Thanks for getting me all excited for nothing. I did however, pick up the new Vanity Fair which I am sure will be dissected at a later date.

I don't get people who don't wash their hands after using the toilet. There was this woman in the next stall and she was so obviously taking a poop due to copious amounts of toilet paper being unfurled and the general poopy smell. I saw her walk right out while I was washing my own hands without stopping. To my horror, I realized that she was also on my flight. She kept on shooting me puzzled looks as I kept on shooting her "you're so gross" looks. Lady! I KNOW WHAT YOU DID! You are ICKY!!!!

We were all then treated to some obnoxious, self-important man who was blackberrying and shouting on his mobile. To my own chagrin, I realized two seconds later that I have turned into one of those cell-phone-blackberry-ers. Except for me, I was Treo-ing. I hate those stupid buttons. To my defense, I at least kept it short and sweet.

They just announced that the plane I am about to board is taking a little longer due to the plane being "more messier than normal." I do not lie, that is what the announcer said, word for word. I wonder what "more messier" means because it's obviously really, really messy. I just hope it's not an overflowing toilet or puke because that will just put my gross-meter off the charts.