I missed my flight which was really terrifying because I didn't have my key or my sheets or anything, so I couldn't go back and live in my room for a few more days which is what it was seeming like I'd have to do. I love the Reason for the season but I sure hate the season. But with help from my parents and people at the airport it has come to pass that I'm going through Dublin and then turning up home only seven hours later than was planned. I'm not upset about this at all; actually I'm sort of glad because I love airports so much.
Maybe when I'm older I could work in an airport kiosk. I think people are nicer at airports, in fact I think there's a romantic comedy focused on exactly this phenomenon, but more than that, I just think it would be nice to be in an airport. Also, my relationship with all the customers would stay at the same level so I could act the same all the time because they'd always be different people.
I know I shouldn't act so jolly when this is a major fuckup. I basically left my room something like two hours later than I should have, and didn't realize this would be a problem, which isn't appropriate behavior for a 21-year-old and isn't even appropriate behavior for whatever my developmental age is. As I said in my first entry, my developmental age has been increasing mega quick in the past few years, and it's a point of pride that I always have a supremely easy time flying to Oberlin and can fit all of my stuff into a backpack so I don't have to check anything. So I'm really disappointed in myself. It's true that I asked about a million strangers for help today and if I hadn't I'd be in much more of a fuckup than I am now. Actually, I would never have even made it to the airport in the first place because I had trouble finding the bus.
I love being able to ask people for help. It's like a superpower. Also, I found out the best script: "Is it possible for--" It sounds sort of arcane which calms me down and it also makes you sound like less of an asshole.
There is the most wonderful little boy flying to Dublin today. The whole time he was waiting to check in he walked in circles, feeling the walls and pillars and ropes, and fitting his feet into the patterns on the floor. Then he sat down and hugged his knees and looked at everything for a while. He's very sweet with his mom but I've barely heard him talk and he must be at least seven or eight. He also has earbuds in his ears which is a common thing to do when you are traveling with a kid who has sensory issues. But whether he is a kwd or a kw/od, I think he's awesome as can be and I want to be just like him.
Now it's time to watch some more Crime and Punishment in Suburbia. So far, Vincent Kartheiser has given himself a tattoo while wearing giant owl glasses. Probably the most fantastic movie I've ever seen.
(presently: actually home. Xander couldn't remember who I was and wouldn't kiss me but then I kissed his nose and he totally got it. His mirror neurons are off the hook. Crime and Punishment in Suburbia was like holy shit amazing and so are my parents and my dogs and the New World.