On the afternoon of the fourteenth, Tammy took me (and Stella went with) to SFO. While Tammy and I did our general (read: random and tangential) catching up, Stella filled me in on her life periodically, as well:
Stella: I had a teddy bear picnic today.
I'm going to ride the Tornado.
(Her mother clarified that it's a ride at Waterworld, but I thought it sounded better without the clarification - right Tam?).
Look, Mommy painted my toenails.
I'm having a sleepover at Tori's.
When I first saw her that day, Miss Stella had just woken up from a nap and allergies had her eyes bright red and itchy. So when she started talking (and after she got some allergy drops), I was relieved. None of us are terribly happy to be pulled out of sleep by the needs of others, but Stella is a trooper and there is nothing better than a Stella hug when you're just about to leave the country for the first time and you're all nerves.
SFO's security line took about a half hour, but it would have been worse if Tammy and Stella hadn't hung out with me a while before I went to it. That 30 minute line looked like a 2 hour line when we first saw it. (Knowing when to walk away: Priceless.) This also allowed me the opportunity to accidentally walk into the men's bathroom, witnessed by Tammy. When I came rushing out again, she looked surprised. But not as surprised as the Asian gentleman who was drying his hands inside the bathroom when I walked in. And the sad part is that I actually paused and looked around in utter confusion, then realized I should probably leave. Hee hee.
The security line only took...35 minutes? So I got to my gate and still had just enough time to use the bathroom, buy a bottle of water and eat my dinner (a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and some goldfish crackers). Then I ended up seated between two very nice twenty-something boys who fell asleep quickly and barely stirred the entire five hours and twenty minutes of the flight. Unfortunately, they were both tall and those angles needed a lot of room in sleep. So I sat with my elbows in, arms crossed over my chest and tried to sleep...which didn't really work. I drifted in and out a little, then gave up and read my Kindle till we landed...5 hrs and 20 min later.
Sleep-deprived and stiff, I deboarded at PHL (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania) at 6am EST. I wandered over to the international terminal (from Concourse C to Concourse A - about a 15 min walk at a normal pace). I went into the ladies room (just to clarify that I got it right this time) and changed clothes, washed my face, brushed my teeth and put on my makeup again (looking back, I should have left off on the makeup). Then I went to Le Petit Bistro (next to McDonald's and a hair short of being fastfood itself) and bought a croissant sandwich (with scrambled eggs that did their best to escape and sausage that tasted of nothingness) and an apple juice, which altogether set me back ten dollars. I sat in the food court, writing, until the grating voices of the bitchy Mickey D's workers annoyed me enough to leave (not to mention the incredible amount of smack-talking about their customers) and the Fugazi song "Waiting Room" had run through my head one too many times (which also happened two weeks prior while I had an insomnia).
By then I had figured out that my ten-hour layover was going to feel much longer if I had to deal with all the noise and obnoxiousness of the airport, so I went over to the US Airways service desk to ask them for the location of the US Airways Club. My dad had mentioned this option to me. He thought it might be a good place to relax and that they'd have some decent amenities there. Unfortunately, the girls at the desk didn't really know what they were talking about. The good news is that Segway Sergeant, who happened to be...um...standing on his Segway? right there, did.
Let me back up. As I left the food court, I noticed the US Airways desk across the way. As I approached, I couldn't help but notice the airport cop in front of the desk. He was a big, strapping man in a perfectly crisp uniform (you can always tell when they're ex-military), standing rigidly on a freaking Segway PT. A Segway PT that I would come to realize was absolutely an extension of the man. He moved on it with incredible grace for such a huge guy. But when I first walked up, he just intimidated the hell out of me. Kinda hot...is that weird?...yes.
So, as I stood there trying to get directions from three different US Airways clerks who couldn't tell their asses from their elbows, Segway Sergeant inched forward (catlike, which is hard to do on a Segway, I'd say!) and interrupted them with the correct information...and in such a way...they didn't get mad or offended, they just backed off like his alpha-ness was understood. He gave me excellent directions (with such a typical Philly accent) and noted the difference between the Envoy club in Concourse A (opens at 130pm and is only for US Airways Envoy members), which he said was the "fancy" club in an awesomely derisive tone, and the club between Concourses B and C ("take the elevator behind the Dunkin' Donuts" = almost uncontrollable internal laughter), which offers day passes. He was helpful, snarky and strapping. Did I mention strapping? As in tall and sturdy and quite handsome and there are many reasons the women at the US Airways counter stopped talking, though I'm fairly certain they couldn't stare at his butt because the counter was too tall... Anyway, great directions, so I thanked him and was on my way. Which reminds me - while I was on my way I could hear the Segway behind me and moments later he sped by me, paused at a trash can to throw something away, then sped off again. I felt free to giggle to myself once he was out of earshot. Catlike grace, man.
I wandered back over to Concourse C (stopping to take some pictures, as requested by Mary E.)...
and found the Dunkin' Donuts. I paused to smirk, then went around the back, to the elevators and up one floor and out into the club's entrance, where two middle-aged, obviously unhappy women sat behind a reception desk. They both looked at me like I'd gotten lost, but I had them smiling in no time. Why, you ask? Because, you give someone a genuine smile on the East Coast and they're so dumbfounded that the meanness just melts away. And I say this with great love, unlike my New Yorker father who says they're all assholes. Anyway, forty bucks later I was seated at a comfortable dining table for two (me and my bags) with a tall, cool glass of filtered water and a strawberry yogurt. 
First and foremost, the escape from the awful humanity of the airport was...delicious. I was so full of its deliciousness that I didn't even eat one of the free chocolate muffins (well, not free, I technically paid for them, cancel last). I felt like there was a bubble around me, it was so peaceful. I sat for a long time, writing like mad, refilling my glass of water several times. Then I looked up and saw one of the employees, who was refilling the muffin tray (banana nut this time) and generally looking disgruntled. He looked up and I smiled at him. Bam - friend for life. He checked in on me throughout the day, cleaning up my table before I even had a chance, making sure I was comfortable, and all in a really normal, nice way. I heart making friends (though I'm not actually good at it, thank you, Philadelphia!). It was also nice to know someone was watching over my sleep-deprived person, especially when I accidentally fell asleep, towards the end of my layover, in a super comfy armchair. So here's the list of amenities: free snacks (chips, snack mixes, cookies, muffins, yogurt, peanuts), free drinks (water, juice, soda, milk, coffee, tea, hot chocolate), a full-service bar (which I did not use, but was still glad to have there), dining tables and a hall full of armchairs and side tables (partitions dotting the hall to help control noise and create an illusion of privacy), really clean restrooms and lockers (my big carry-on ended up in one). I am still grateful for it now, especially considering how the rest of my trip went.
Some interesting PHL notes:
The airport is has all these big white rocking chairs everywhere for people to sit in. Fabulous:
There are also some art exhibits around the airport. The llama is my favorite:
Forgive the picture placement, I suck at it. Got lucky that those last two were together. Llama!
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