it's been a while (again) since the last post. however, it's been a bittersweet, and somewhat serendipitous few months, all of which has culminated in my return to my hometown. the grass never seemed greener, and there was never much homesickness; i never envied my colleagues who took root, and i don't think i would ever trade in the burgeoning wanderlust (this has now become a hashtag trend, which i somewhat despise :s ) that besets my heart. but, home is home. i am welcome and welcomed.
there's very little that i can write to surmise the past few months, if only because it's been such a whirlwind adventure (or at least set of experiences). i'm hoping i'll be able to pick blogging back up while i'm around, and perhaps get back into the swing of drawling into poetry when i can. perhaps, even write that great american novel that eludes all writers, if only due to complacency and laziness.
i'll ease myself in with a brief recount of the things that made the trip home particularly interesting;
children crying throughout a 6 hour flight. only god can judge them the same way only he can forgive their parents for bringing them unto the fight. i'm pretty sure that a few of these parents had conspired to find out when i would be boarding and go out of their ways to all be on the same flight. there is no other explanation for having at least 15 children bawling in a choir of despair and hope belligerence. if their voices could have powered the aircraft, i'm sure that we'd have reached our destination in slightly less than an hour.
the combination of a passenger in front of me (who was the father of one of the said perpetually crying-babies) who decided that it was his religious duty to extend his seat as far back as possible (even before take-off, much to my irk, as well as the stewardess who would calmly explain that the seats are to be in their upright positions for take-off and landing - which had little to no effect, anyway), and the passenger behind me who must have thighs the length of a small elephant's trunk, because for some reason, his ability to prod me with his knees were borderline uncanny. i suppose that i should be thankful that about halfway through the flight, he decided to give in to the urge to retract his legs and leave them to their own natural resting state (lodged somewhere between my lower thoracic vertebrae). once my body began to take it as normal, i could pretty much just ignore the persistent invasion. kind of.
the chinese woman sitting next to mr. long-legs, behind me, who, i can only assume, has a megaphone dislodged in her windpipe. don't get me wrong, i have nothing against chinese persons (if anything i would not have mentioned this fact), but the ringing of whatever dialect she was speaking in remained with me all the way after the flight, into immigrations, and only left when i had hurried to the baggage reclaim area, where the soothing sound of bags plopping unto the conveyer belt would drown out the kife-like piercing it had had on my ear drums. i seriously don't think the language she was speaking in would have made any difference in its effect on me, but that vapid and somewhat venomous dribble she launched into (which started only slightly after i had managed to white-noise out the babies' screams and begun to fall asleep in the most awkward position imaginable) was only accentuated by the fact that it was a chinese dialect. i suppose, i shouldn't have made a point of this, but i think i should be forgiven for the subconscious judgements i had fallen victim to while i tried to doze off. oh, and i should also mention that it wasn't like she was trying to hold a conversation with someone in a different isle - it was with mr. long-legs. who i assume was her husband. because all he said were monosyllables and the odd interjection to reaffirm that he was, indeed, listening. on one hand, i am tempted to say that i would like to know what the conversation (one-wayed as it was) was about. on the other, eff that.
some kid who decided to listen to music the whole flight, and though having his headphones on, had decided to blare them at maximum volume so that the whole cabin could enjoy his tragic, and tasteless choice of music. let me add that he had turned on his music, cranked it up to get it all lizzle in the hizzle, then retracted his serving tray, popped his head upon it, and slept. the whole. damn. flight. i can only imagine that this is some reiterated theory of listening to classical music while you sleep to stimulate some sort of mental growth. because, if this is not the case, then i think i would have lost all faith in humanity right there. but, don't be deceived. i hate this bugger the least. because he was originally sitting next to me, and a few minutes before take-off, he'd realised that the seat beside a friend / colleague / lover would be empty throughout the flight and had relocated there. which, of course, subdued the effects of his music, somewhat, as well as allowed me to extend my legs once in a while into his original leg-room. you may ask, then, why i had not just moved into his spot and avoided the blunt-but-vengeful kneecaps of mr. long-legs? to which i answer, any spinal injury i may have acquired from the event is well worth the few centimetres i had gained farther away from his wife.
i suppose i am harping along the same point in that these (perhaps unnecessary) annoying noises in a confined space have made the experience of flying much more inconvenient than i remember it ever being. but i will raise you the fact that it was of minor consequence. i don't generally care much for it - it was only a 6 hour flight - and the social contract (which i am sure none of the above persons had signed) dictates that live and let live. perhaps one day i will have inconsolable children, or develop a need to violate others' personal spaces to affirm my own, or speak in a pitch nigh hearable only to dogs and dolphins (which wouldn't be too unimaginable if i had already lost most of my hearing capacity due to said noises in the first place). upon which, i can only hope that others will take a genial 'husnuzon' which i have tried to have (this saying nothing about my personality, which is vile and presumptuous and unforgiving, anyway).
i'm sure there were positive points to be made that made the trip memorable, too. such as. uh. pretty clouds, and stuff.