I love to travel. New places and cultures and people and food. I think you need to travel every once in a while, even if it’s just to the next city or state over, just to put yourself in a different setting, and to keep your life exciting. That being said, you also need to have a home where it doesn’t have to be exciting. Everyone needs a place to relax and feel comfortable in. I like both of these parts of travel, the new experiences and the coming home. The only part I really don’t like about traveling is, well, the actual traveling part.

Actually, I take that back. Sometimes I do like the traveling part. Trains or boats or even cars sometimes can be enjoyable, fun even. But I don’t like planes. At all. It’s not that I’m afraid of heights, or crashing or any of that, and I’m not claustrophobic. There are. Two main reasons I don’t like planes: 1) they confine you. You are stuck in a seat for who knows how many hours, unable to move your legs, or body for that matter. 2) I get air sick. Starting when I was two years old I threw up on every plane ride I took until I was about eleven. Thankfully over the past few years I’ve gotten better, but I still tend to feel nauseous during the landings.

Anyway, the reason I am writing about this is that I am about to fly back home, ending a three and a half week annual trip. Like all the best ones, it went by like a flash, and I don’t want to leave. However, I do look forward to going home and seeing all the people and animals (my cat) I’ve missed. And I am looking forward to playing soccer.

Plane rides are always full of mixed emotions.



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