Dear LA Airport:

So in general, you’re pretty awesome. Not enough fast food places for my tastes, but eh, whatever, some (read most) people prefer ACTUAL meals and it’s good to cater to them. You have really cool shops, but I don’t actually like shopping very much. You have several Starbucks, and they have very delicious chai tea. I would have gotten a bigger cup, but I didn’t realize that your International Terminal does not appear to believe in food.

Or, for that matter, ceilings.

Also, I find it faintly amusing that security here consists of a friendly-looking African-American gentlemen armed with – ready for this? – a glorified club. I suppose it’s actually called a police baton or something, but I haven’t seen a policeman carrying one for a long time. Also, this guy is very, very skinny and harmless looking.

But back to the ceilings. All your ducts are exposed, and all your pipes. This terminal is completely incongruous with the rest of the airport, which is big and new and shiny. You must be doing renovation or something, because there is just nothing here. Oh yes, there’s the big sign that says Renovations in huge white letters on an orange sign. No, I haven’t been up for fourteen hours straight, what are you talking about. It’s also deserted. There’s two Asian girls right in front of me, an Australian girl ahead and to my right, a girl in a skirt about a hundred feet to my left, and that’s it, not counting airport employees.

Of course, I am about four hours early. I would have been even earlier but I decided to have some dinner first. LA Airport, did I mention your main terminal is awesome? Even the Burger King was classy. And I picked up some food just in case I got hungry waiting for the plane and there wasn’t anything I like here. Good choice, because, well… you don’t believe in edibles here.

I’m hoping my IES cohorts show up soon. I don’t blame them if they decide to hang out in your main terminal, LA Airport, because this one is a bit boring, but it’s quiet here and I’m rather hoping for a nap before I have to face new people.

Dear LA Airport, you’re pretty cool. But you know what’s even COOLER?

Food in the terminal.

On to happier subjects. This will probably be the longest blog entry, because I’ve got a lot of time on my hands right now.

I flew first class for the first time, from Logan to Chicago, then from Chicago to LAX. I never, ever want to go back to economy, because it rocked. They brought me drinks, and heated nuts in a little dish, and a meal which was delicious. It was turkey and swiss cheese on a croissant, a tiiiiny salad which included some sort of vegetable which I neither recognized nor ate, some crackers and Brie, and a cookie. The cookie was still warm. Then they gave me a little hot towel. And a mint. I love first class.

When I was in Chicago, waiting for the plane to LAX, the boy across from me in the terminal had a small dog with him. I thought it was a Chihuahua at first, and then recognized its markings and realized that it was actually a Min Pin – a Miniature Doberman Pinscher. This dog was TINY, and the boy was rather macho in a slightly-flaming kind of way. He had a little leather collar on (the dog, not the boy) and a golden tag, and was being fed bits of hamburger. He had an itty-bitty squeaky toy too. I was hard pressed not to giggle because we weren’t that far apart, but I did manage to get a picture of the small dog.

I’ve decided that his name is probably Killer.

Tried to sleep on the four-hour flight to LAX and failed, as I usually do. I’m hoping for better luck or at least a movie to make me forget how tired I am on the Qantas flight. The time difference has me all messed up. The clock says it’s 7:17 but my body feels like it’s just past 10 pm. Speaking of which, I better call my parents before they fall asleep.

Called. Called my girl too. I think I’m done now. More later, and I’ll add in the pictures when I figure out how to do it.

See you in Melbourne!