Nowadays travel is second nature to me.
It's not uncommon for me to arrive at the airport a half hour before take off. I walk to the kiosk where I punch in my frequent flier number (that I now have memorized) and walk to the expedited security line. I often gets looks from older travelers, "Is she in the right line??", as I walk along side them in my jeans, tank, cardigan, coat and aviator sunglasses, my hair usually tied up in a wet, messy bun. I walk through the terminal, (knowing full well where the midwest, socal, and east coast destination gates are respectively). I walk with purpose on the people movers, reaching my gate. I cut and shimmy my way through the inevitable crowds of people who are waiting to board.... getting looks "Is she sure that it's her turn to board?" as I cut to the front of the line. I get to my seat and slouch over in sweet slumber until I arrive at my destination.
That's often my travel ritual. Recently I've been going about things differently. I wake up extra early for these flights, packing twenty minutes before I have to leave (because inevitably, my belongings are still in my suitcase from my last trip, so I just need to add fresh clothes). I get to the airport extra early... and take my time meandering through the airport. Always making time to buy a mango naked juice drink for my flight. I plop myself down at the gate and stare. I love to watch people move. Maybe it's my love of architecture that lets me appreciate the way people move through a space, but I just love it. I could stare at people walking for hours. (as I often do while at coffee shops).