Somewhere in the air between Houston and San Diego I just started giggling. There really was nothing else I could do, and there was nothing I wanted to do in a way. The past 12 hours just seemed to be “one for the record books”. Traffic on the way to the airport. A snails-paced shuttle bus from the parking garage to the terminal. A reservation that did not come up in the system. An airline employee who kept giving me and her computer screen puzzled looks. An unusually long security screening line. An eventually missed flight which led to an unplanned four hour pre-flight layover in an amenity-starved airport. Etc., etc., etc…
Of course, the giggling didn’t start until after the second half of my journey had begun. I had yet to deal with lackadaisical janitorial practices in the terminal, an inadequate air-conditioning system, and a fellow passenger with a medical emergency (which, thankfully, was not emergency enough to cause the plane to change its course mid-flight – which, according to the chatter, could have been a possibility).
For practically anyone who’s ever met me, giggling is not an uncommon state of being for me. Part informal greeting, part coping mechanism, part stress reliever, part signal of acceptance. This time, however, was a true LOL moment. As the flight attendants continued to discuss how to proceed, as passengers stood in the aisle trapped by the beverage cart, as people who were supposed to get their free beverage — myself included – wondered if they would ever get their free beverage, I just began to think about all the bumps and inconveniences of the past 12 hours. It was all out of my control (most of it anyway). There was nothing I could have done to prevent it nor remedy it. It all just happened. Not only the past 12 hours, but also the past 12 months. It all just happened. And all I could do was giggle.
Right now, I’m in the midst of a run of a show that I had absolutely no previous investment nor interest in. It was completely off of my radar. And then like magic/coincidence/happenstance/serendipity, I’m playing again. I’m working again. I’m back at a theatre I love. I’m among people I love and missed, as well as those I’m gladly getting to know better. I’m in a place both literally and figuratively I hadn’t planned or even envisioned a year ago, let alone six months ago.
I really have no idea where I’m going with this train of thought. Or even if there is a train of thought here. What I do know is that I’m still currently in the air somewhere between Houston and San Diego, and that in less than 48 hours my youngest brother will be getting married to a woman he loves. And that will be a wonderful thing to have happened.
…In the meantime, the line for the lavatory in the main cabin has grown to six people deep. And, yes, that made me giggle.