In transit...

It’s 3:12 in Tucson, 4:12 in Dallas, and just past midnight in Granada – my destination city. I can’t help but get confused when I talk times with my family as I do my traveling. To which time zone do I refer – the one I’m in, the one the other end of the call is in, the one on the plane schedule?

Then I ask myself a very simple question - Why must this abstract concept be so darn complicated?

Alack, there is nothing I can do about it except accept the confusion and do my best to reference the time zone I’m referring to.

I also ask myself as I sit waiting for the departure time to arrive, why are the gods of weather so against me lately? This is my second attempt trying to get back to Spain. Previous flight was canceled due to icy weather in Dallas, Texas. Since when does Dallas get cold?! It didn’t make sense. But then again, it’s been wacky weather as of late – as I well should know from my lovely forced stay in London due to snow storms – and even Tucson had reached a low not heard of for decades. I personally am blaming global warming and the weather gods. They have it out for me. =(

Back to being in the Dallas Fortworth International Airport. I’ve been through here a handful of times now. It seems I always end up in Terminal D too. It’s a very large airport with a variety of restaurants that are always advertised on the tram I have to take from terminal to terminal. Though very few of them are ever opened in the D terminal, it’s always interesting to read what’s new and noteworthy here.

This doesn’t seem to be coming into a collected story, so I apologize for the vaguely connected thoughts. On second thought, I shouldn’t even bother writing these sentences. I’ll most likely edit them out before I post.

Which I WILL do this time. (But you readers have to help me! Let me know you are reading and are interested! Your dependence on me will motivate the blogging. So COMMENT! EMAIL! FACEBOOK! ¡POR FAVOR!)

And I’m back to reflecting on all my stays in airports across the U.S. and Europe these last 6 months. I’m surprised I ever made it to Spain on time in the first place.