This feels so very, very, familiar.
I am in the lounge in Toronto again, and because it feels so nice and familiar I decided to continue with the deja vu trend and drink some Scotch.
Niiiiiiiice.
This time it is a lot busier though; it is not dark outside; I am eventually heading towards people I know rather than the wild wild West.
I am not nursing a soon-to-be broken heart, nor am I gone for 5 months.
And yet, it has that wooonderful, swingin' old time music, good time feelin' that I miss. Missed. The travel feeling.
All senses on alert. You can almost literally reinvent yourself as anyone you want. The aura you project.

Last time it was wealthy, I think.
This time it's grungy, hip d.j./archaeologist (the dj part because I got brand new giant red headphones that make me feel oh so cool).
Air Canada didn't feed me on my first flight, so when I got the lounge I had three helpings of tortellini alfredo and salad and hummus and veggies and a banana. I think the people around me were astonished. I didn't get lunch! I felt like shouting at them, Not even pretzels!
Good thing I am stowing three bags away now for later. Oh, unlimited food. How I love thee.

Now to just read my Vanity Fair in quiet with my Scotch and avoid all eye contact with the over-fed business men sitting around me...