You Can't Get a Butterfly to Make Honey

It turns out you meet the weirdest people in airports-Especially when you are there at 1 O’Clock in the morning, but more on that later. My family drove me over to Seattle after stuffing ourselves at Easter Sunday brunch. Max was great company and enlightened me to ASDF which I think might be what’s wrong with my generation. (If you don’t know what this is YouTube will tell you.) The mandatory stop at Dry Falls Dam left me as always wondering

what the point of fences are if you are going to stop it at an arbitrary point. (For context it’s overlooking a cliff face and there’s a fence that just ends and the cliff definitely does not.) Perhaps it means that if you fall off there it won’t actually hurt you just like metaphorically. 

The goodbye was made extra emotional by the ever present haze of weed in Seattle parking lots. I think everyone, me included was ready for a nap and so we had the appearance of waterlogged zombies. Good thing my travel day was going to be so short. And then I got to go sit in line. And then keep sitting in line. And then once I got out of that line I got into another line. This one I was in for 45 minutes and it’s then when my years of backpacking training kicked in. If you just pretend the backpack isn’t there then it isn’t. 

I hopped on a short eleven hour flight to Istanbul with hopes of meeting someone cool sitting next to me. No such luck. They could of been the coolest person in the world but he didn’t speak any English and I don’t think his wife wanted him interacting with me. Which fair enough I am rather scruffy looking.  Instead I got to enjoy a meal that I would actually pay for at a restaurant if asked while watching Ryan Gosling discover the joys of Patriarchy. (The Sad part is I’d probably be most inclined to buy the Mojo Dojo Casa House than a Barbie house.) 

That done I hopped off the plane after enjoying a lovely breakfast to Istanbul at 5 O’Clock in the evening. I saw a sign for a terrace and was ecstatic about the idea of having some fresh air to breath. Unfortunately so were 20 other people. They were less excited about the fresh air and more excited about the opportunity to smoke. This made the air a little less fresh and might have sped up my chances for Lung Cancer. My hopes of fresh air dashed I went to explore the multi-faith prayer room. I’ve had a lot of debates about what something like this would look and I think Turkey did all right. The MFPR was right next to the Mosque and the airport attendant after taking one look at my wide eyed stare, Catholic

Jewelry, and Lack of a Headscarf gave me a huge grin and pantomimed praying (Dua?). When I came out he was very eager to hear about my experience. The problem was I don’t speak Turkish and he doesn’t speak English. The conversation was reduced to thumbs up, head nods, smiles, and both of us talking in an upbeat tone in our respective language. (I hope he doesn’t think I dissed on the prayer room-it was by far the quietest place in the airport) I managed to escape the floor toilets this go around in the Turkish airport and hopped on my flight to Rome once again hoping to meet someone interesting. This time I was next to a French couple who kept kissing and completely disregarded my presence. At least I wasn’t in between them…

This flight although it was only two hours also provided me with a full meal and yet more coffee which I am always in need of. 

I walked into the Rome airport to absolutely no one. After walking down a few hallways I ran into a security guard who didn’t even bat an eye at me and let me keep going. Perhaps there were several 20 year old girls with backpacks and dead looks in their eyes walking the empty halls of the airport. It felt quite a bit like being some place I shouldn’t have been or that the Zombie apocalypse had happened and there was no more need of airports. 

Confident that I could spend the next six hours writing this update, watching Studio Ghibli

and pretending that my body doesn’t need sleep I sat down and put headphones in. About twenty minutes later a guy showed up sat across from me and asked if I could watch his stuff while he slept. Fair enough it’s why I wasn’t sleeping and it was a little comforting to know that I wasn’t the only person in the airport. He told me my aura looked innocent enough that I wouldn’t touch his stuff. Which is true but it might also have been the fact that I had pigtails in. 

The cleaning people showed up and the guy awoke after only ten minutes. Well it might be nice to have someone to talk with for a minute or two or four hours. The blessing is I didn’t have to do a lot of talking. This man a Brazilian self proclaimed asshole, womanizer, aura reader, poker player, gypsy, and 28 year old vagabond whose current goal was to go home and play FIFA could really get going. “I had a girl once find out I was cheating, so she woke me up holding a knife over me and was like ‘hand me your phone,’ so I was like okay whatever handed it to her then went back to sleep cause what’s the point in worrying. Three hours later she had destroyed all my clothes and belonging and sent me out onto the street in nothing but my PJs. So I was like okay and went to the hostel to meet new people.” I think I really confused him when he asked me about all the guys who were asking me out. “You mean no one? Not one guy right now? Aren’t you single? Do you have any straight friends?” I think we just come from a little bit of different worlds. He then proceeded to give me dating advice. “You know sometimes it just doesn’t work girls are trying to make butterfly’s make honey you know, and like I feel really bad for girls cause like they have the darkest minds. Woman have the darkest minds. Like darker then the devil because he’s a guy.” In between his extravagant life advice he explained how to open the third eye, that I was very innocent, all of his girlfriends, his machete using grandmother, that I would be better looking if my hair was out of braids but that I was still beautiful,and his ability to read people. This last part he was scarcely accurate at although I’m an open book at the best of times.

At about 4 A.M. he had the brilliant idea to go look for a beer. Having just spent two months in a dry country I suppose he was ready. The Italian’s would sell me a Cappuccino but would not sell him a beer which made him instantly dislike Italy. (They just don’t party enough.) He told me that Polish Women were very beautiful and friendly and that they know how to party so I suppose we will see in Krakow. I think his last piece of advice was that if your stomach was hurting you’d either A.) eaten bad food or B.) God had left you. There was also the doubly bad option of both of those occurring together. 

That about wraps it up for me today–getting ready to get on my flight to Krakow–although I suppose I should wake up the Brazilian who finally fell asleep. I suppose I’ll never finish My Neighbor Totoro and I’ll remember to think twice before asking God to send me someone to talk to. Also quick note. He was a brutally honest guy but very nice and friendly and he was very kind in most respects just not in regards to dating which is how I stood him for 6 hours.

Quote of the Post: “I know I’m a cheating asshole but I’m just honest I can’t help that I don’t keep feelings longer.” Five minutes later- “I want nothing more than to raise a good religious family and have five kids.” 

Song of the Post: Istanbul (Not Constantinople) I had too.