I’m writing from a ground-floor hotel room. A stranger told me this hotel is never good – nationwide – but so far it seems great. Plus I have curtains in one of my favorite shades of green. And “relaxing” hand soap that smells lovely.

Sorry, not entirely lucid at the moment. I’ve been traveling since about 7:45AM (counting the drive to EWR) – and my body thinks it’s a quarter to midnight. Which, technically, it is. In New York, anyway.

Although I’m favoring an overly positive mood lately, so I maintain my comment about the curtains. And the soap.

The trip was amazing. Oh, for those who don’t know, I’m on the West Coast. First time in my life, actually. Pretty exciting.

But let’s clarify something. I haven’t been farther off the East Coast – within the USA – than Pittsburgh since I was 6 years old, excepting a one-night visit in Indianapolis. So just seeing Denver International Airport for the first time on stopover was new and pretty exciting. I saw several men and boys in cowboy hats. The floor tiles had pictures of dinosaurs and fossils in them. The bathrooms all served double-purpose as tornado shelters.

Tornado shelters. Imagine that.

My flight was delayed three hours, and the Internet wasn’t great, so I ended up talking to strangers instead. Note to self, I really need to stop frightening strangers. I’m slowly realizing that I am what is kindly referred to as a “radical thinker.” Actually, it pleases me – I’m really developing a personal philosophy and view of the world and I really believe in it. But it does tend to take people off guard. I suppose it could be a good thing, if I wanted to proselytize. Not so much.

So anyways there was much meeting strangers, particularly thanks to the temporary bonding that occurs over delayed flights. Was a bit ridiculous, actually – 2:45: “there will be an update in an hour.” 3:50: “Update: There will be an update in 15 minutes” … eventually it’s 5pm and suddenly we get an update: “you will board the 5:40 flight. Proceed to Gate xx.” Gate xx happens to be on the completely other side of the concourse. So we al run – I can no longer complain about not getting any exercise because I don’t want to leave my carry-on – and we wait…. the 5:40 flight is delayed…. but only by 8 minutes. (did I mention my flight to Denver was also delayed? But only by ten minutes… and it really made no difference)

On the plane I got a window seat – have I mentioned I’ve never traveled to the West before? As in, I’ve never flown over the mountains before? I’ve hiked interesting topography – one of my favorite places in Israel is Mitzpat Ramon, a huge natural crater – and flying to Israel, of course, you pass over some mountains. But from much higher up. And not like this. Not miles and miles and miles – seeming to be stained green with sudden sections of deserts and unexpected patches of snow. I was completely blown away. Now I really want to take a helicopter ride with a camera someday, like they do for the news.

We passed over mountains and streams and lakes and desert, all with the most subtle promise of the ocean at the horizon. We passed over some unidentifiable things that probably don’t officially exist, and miles of land that seemed almost totally unpopulated by humans.

So flying into California was something of a shock. I’m not even sure where the state line was – or, for that matter, which state we passed in from – but we were flying over tiny communities that seemed completely isolated – and large sections of land seemingly untouched – and then all of a sudden, houses and buildings that appeared crammed as tightly as possible – against each other and against the edge of the desert. The highways seemed oddly empty after NYC, where traffic certainly doesn’t clear just because it’s already 8pm. I wonder what flying into San Francisco would have been like – I flew into San Jose instead.

I enjoyed the flight for the strangers I met, as well. A mother and her two young daughters (with her young son across the aisle). She’s married (her husband didn’t come along for the trip) – trained in a field she loves (and that can earn a decent salary during regular economic periods) but is unable to pursue because of the economy. Until things improve, she’s working at Starbucks and the night shift at Target to make ends meet – her husband lost his job and hasn’t been successful in finding a new one yet. I enjoyed her daughters a great deal – the older one insisting on sharing music with me, the younger one climbing all over me.

It’s 9:30 local time…. 12:30AM EST. If I can make it a half hour, it’ll be a normal bedtime….