(no subject)

[polutrope]

So, I'm home now. I dislike planes greatly, having spent seven hours with La Bruyère's Charactères and a pack of cards. I played Solitaire and sang Christmas songs, camp songs, and a few ballads in my head. In Paris, I was patted down twice, though I don't know how they think I'm going to get explosives between the passport control and the plane. Then once I got home, the check was incredibly easy. "Did you get anything?" "Sort of." "Go ahead." Our luggage was very slow in getting to the pick up, so I was fantasizing about things like "Flight 121, we're very sorry, but all your luggage fell out over the North Sea." I mean, it was too long a trip for nothing to go wrong. But it didn't, and I'm incredibly happy to be home, even though I enjoyed the trip very much.