Houston Airport - Part 1

In full disclosure, I don't know if there will be a Part 2. But, I landed only a half hour ago in Houston, and have have a full five hours to observe, write, and read before boarding the plane that will take me over the pond. And, I downloaded eight rental movies on the iPad so that I would be prepared for whatever flick the mood is oriented towards. So, a few thoughts. 1. It took all my strength not to cry when I left the house this morning. Am I excited? You bet! But my Five Favorite People are my constant traveling companions. It was strange to have only one suitcase at the front door. Vincent will not be there every day to tell me that I am beautiful and fabulous. 2. Well, the TSA guy did tell me that I looked "gorgeous" this morning, but he didn't have Vincent's cute chin dimple or Rob's sincerity. He may also need to visit the eye doctor, because other than my newly shellaced nails, the proud trophy of fighting the biting habit, I look like I haven't slept much and could use a hairbrush. 3. The two ladies at the United Counter were running through a list of things to see in Paris, as one of them is going next month. They were extra nice to me when they looked at my reservation and saw where I was going. I tried to milk it for a seat upgrade to business class, but they didn't have the authority to do that. 4. I got to my gate just as they were boarding for an earlier flight to Houston. I saw that it was a 737, which Rob - with an airline industry background - finds to be much safer than the express jet that I was due to take. I asked if I could take that one instead, so they switched me out, and off we went. Middle seat and all. Momentary terror filled me as I realized that I hadn't asked WHICH Houston airport it was going to. But, here I am, and all is well. 5. The first announcement from the loudspeaker was a call to board the flight for Roatan. I thought, "Toto, we're not in San Antonio anymore." Despite being the 7th largest city in the country, we are sometimes treated like a stepchild or an afterthought, and I think Mexico is the only country that makes us an "international" airport. The departure boards in Houston rivaled the tv section of a Best Buy, with flights ranging from Alburqueque to Zihuatanego. (A google maps search produced no search results when I looked that one up, yet it's large enough to have a flight that goes there. So, any enlightenment on where in the heck it is would be welcomed.) 6. My declaration to Toto was underscored by seeing a woman who looked like she had just emerged from farm work in rural Peru. Wouldn't I just love to know the story of every person here, where they are going, and why. 7. There was a neon directory and map for the airport, outlining where all of the shopping and dining is. Just like a mall. 8. I have found a coveted spot at one of the few outlet stations in this terminal. I dare not find something to eat or go to the restroom for fear of losing it. I see all of the people crowding around to get their fix from the two rectangular dark holes that feed our need for power. I am, sadly, one of them. I realized that my carry-on suitcase is literally heavier than my large purse, the latter being stuffed with every electronic device that I will need for this trip, plus two backup chargers. I did pack two of those things made of paper, with two covers, and words written on them. I think they're called books. But, I can't get their text to enlarge or the margins to backlight. Maybe they need a battery. Lest you laugh at my observations, thinking me to be pitifully childlike in my thoughts here, please know that this is not because I don't travel. Quite the opposite. But, when you are used to shuttling four people shorter than yourself from gate to gate, pausing only to find a restroom or pull them away from a Hello Kitty display, or making sure that your Toddler Who Refuses a Stroller isn't more than a foot away from your obsessive glare, an airport becomes a Wonder. A Gateway to the unknown. It is a mystical and marvelous place.