Another Post about Airports

Snow and the sunrise in Wisconsin
somewhere

Today I flew back to Wellesley for the beginning of another semester. Overall, it was a fairly eventful day (featuring nearly empty flights, a giant de-icer machine, and turbulence). I also had an interesting experience at airport security this morning in Minneapolis. Before I could even get in the line, they pulled me aside and swabbed my palms, testing the swab with a large machine before I could move on. They then directed me to one of two lines - the other line had normal security procedures, but in my line we didn't have to take off our shoes or coats or take out our laptops. It didn't feel like airport security without shuffling through the line barefoot and scrambling to get all of my stuff back in my bags afterwards. Has anybody else experienced differences in airport security recently?

I had a layover in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and explored a little bit to stretch my legs.

I love how much cheese paraphernalia you
can buy in Wisconsin.

I have often noticed that travelling can bring out the best and the worst in people. There are always the vocal complainers, who make standing in lines and waiting for delayed flights even more frustrating. However, there are also the people who strike up a pleasant conversation, or reach out a helping hand when you're struggling with a suitcase.

For example, there was a businessman behind me in the security line this morning who just couldn't understand why the other line was moving faster. He kept asking the employees about it, and getting angry about the wasted time. In total, our line took at most 15 or 20 minutes. That was still too long for his taste, I guess.

On the other hand, I met a wonderful couple this afternoon. I took the train back to Wellesley, and from the train station it's about a 15 minute walk back to my dorm. With approximately 65lbs. of luggage (plus a heavy backpack), that 15 minutes can feel like an eternity. As I was walking, a woman approached me asking if I was going to Wellesley. At first I assumed she was going to ask me for directions. However, she then offered me a ride to my dorm. They had been driving past and saw me walking with all my stuff and pulled over just to offer help. I probably should have been a bit more cautious about getting in a total stranger's car, but it worked out fine, and I was extremely grateful.

One things airports always mean is change, and new beginnings. Another trip, another airport, another semester.

Rebuilding

I always love being home. This break has come with some unique challenges, however. The first floor of my parent's house (including my bedroom!) is being completely renovated. As a result, I am sleeping on an air mattress in the middle of the living room floor, literally living out of my suitcase. The arrangement comes with its inconveniences, but its so exciting to help with the progress downstairs and see everything come together.

Here are a few pictures from the process!

My dad and brother working on flooring.

Our kitchen with cabinets in progress.

Hanging cabinets.

My dad and I working on my closet!

My mom and the front hallway closet.