Oh so cliche

I walked off the airplane with my mom, we shifted the weight of our carry-ons, and met my aunt and uncle outside the gate.  After exchanging hugs and kisses and a few hair tossles, we got in their car and drove to their house.  I explained how I loved the city of Boston but not the school.  I explained our itinerary for the next few days: American one day, GW the next.  I stayed up with my aunt telling her that even before seeing it, I knew GW was the place for me but my mom insisted I visit American.  The day we visited GW, I got that cliche feeling of "this is where I'm supposed to be" and knew.  That was in April 2007.

I walked off the airplane alone, shifted the weight of my carry-on, and went to baggage claim to pick up my black suitcase on wheels that carried sweaters and heavy jackets that would stay at my aunt's.  I navigated the airport until I found the Super Shuttle desk and checked in, then rode the shuttle to my aunt and uncle's house.  I was greeted by hugs and kisses and a few hair tossles.  I explained how my flight was, how my summer was so far.  I explained our itinerary for the next few days: check-in was 8 to 10 a.m. Friday and I'd see them in a few days, but I would take the shuttle to and from so they didn't have to make the extra trip.  After a few days, I stayed up with my aunt telling her amazing orientation had been and how I already had a few really close friends who I looked forward to getting to know even better.  The day I left orientation, I got that cliche feeling of "this is always where I was supposed to be" and knew I had made the right choice.  That was in June 2007.

I walked off the airplane alone, shifted the weight of my carry-on, and went to baggage claim to pick up my two huge suitcases, full of clothes and shoes and various items.  I remembered the route to the Super Shuttle desk and again drove the familiar route to my aunt's.  This time, I picked up the key from under the pot hidden under the bench on the side of the house.  My aunt and uncle came home, and the greeting this time was more familiar.  We'd done this before.  I explained the itinerary for the next few days: I needed to go shopping, I needed to go find a job in D.C., I needed to pick up my books.  They would drop me off sometime after 9 a.m., but there was no return.  I walked into my dorm room and I got that cliche feeling of "this is home."  That was in September 2007.

Now, it's January 2008.  I made the same journey from a CA airport to Dulles in D.C.  I knew where baggage claim without needing the signs.  I knew where the Super Shuttle desk was.  I knew where the key was under the pot under the bench on the side of the house.  I made some food from the kitchen and went to sleep and awoke to find my aunt and uncle home.  We chatted, and again, there was an itinerary: I need to be dropped off anytime after 9 a.m.  It's surreal to realize how much someone grows in that short of a span.  I think the progression of my flight/airport experiences characterizes it best.

First, I travled with my mom, not quite independent from my parents, a child still.  A child unsure, but with hopes, of her future.  Then, I traveled alone, timid and slightly hesitant.  Filled with excitement of something brand new but nervous to see if I had made the right choice.  After that, I was slightly more sure of myself.  I knew I could do this, I knew that I could do this on my own.  Now, I know where I am going, I know what I have to do.  This is my life now, here in D.C.  I am starting my second semester, knowing how to travel this road, how to handle the bumps and curves.  I am independent now, mom and dad don't even come to the terminal with me anymore.  I sit here, in my dorm, with Sarah on the bed behind me, back in the familiar embrace of GW.  And it feels so right, every cliche feeling is running through my body.  But it's ok, I like cliches, they have never failed me before.