So I'm flying cross-country (it's the only cross-country I can do with my knee issues) this Sunday. I'll be attending a symposium on The American West thanks to our brilliant (no sarcasm here--she really is brilliant) S.S. Director. We'll spend 5 days learning about the history of the American West and gathering authentic teaching tools for our students to better learn history. Looking forward to checking out Palo Alto, the Bay Area of San Fransisco and the City of San Fransisco itself.
Now, I do not enjoy long flights. I haven't always been this way. As a teenager I traveled with the Long Island Youth Orchestra to places like Morocco and China. I had no trouble with flights that took forever. It took a return flight from Vegas to panic me. We were enjoying a weekend with about 30 of our friends and families celebrating our friend Rami's 40th birthday. On the way home (Southwest-coach bus style- 3seat/3seat split) we hit turbulence that kept everyone seated for a good 4 hours out of the 5. The plane would drop and then soar--Dave slept through it, Ali and Cassie had their headphones on and were in 'the zone' and I sat gripping the armrests ready to jump out of my seat, open the door and freefall down to Earth. After that, I swore I'd never fly again.
April 2008 had us in Orlando-the flights were just fine. The only thing drawing me to a long plane trip again is the joy of learning and being able to teach my students in a more creative, confident fashion. So off I go into the wild blue yonder...Maybe I'll slug a nice drink at 8 am???