How to Properly Cry in an Airport (During Covid)

I would like to tell you that crying in airports isn’t a regular occurrence for me. Part of me wants to proceed with the pretense that the global pandemic makes us more vulnerable, and thus taboo–ing to such an extent is temporary. But that would be a lie, one that would dangerously undermine the purpose of this post. So to start things off: yes, I’ve publicly cried in airports on multiple occasions. Everything from shedding a small tear to breaking down and bawling only to rear my ugly cry face. I’ve done it, and I’m here to share my expertise on how you can too (when your body and mind tells you to do so). In fact, just look for my professional development book coming out next week on the topic.

STEP 1: Deprive Yourself of Sleep

Alright, so the most recent time I’ve cried in an airport was during my first attempt to fly back to Tunis from the States right after New Year’s. The night before I had been up late with my nephew, who for some unknown reason decided it was the perfect time to bang against walls and yell-laugh until 3AM while the rest of the house snored. I really didn’t want to wake his mom–anymore than he already had–who was deservedly in a deep sleep on the other side of the bed. Over the holidays she made several road trips (with a baby!) to visit and also drove my sorry car-less ass around quite a bit. Hence, I dealt with the situation as best as I could, which resulted in very few hours of sleep the night before my flight. And because I suck at intuitively addressing such issues, we ended up watching cartoons on my phone for most of the night.

Note: this could be easily be done by choosing a flight time late at night, or in the early hours of the morning. See red-eye. I personally recommend a 2:30AM pick when you know there is little to no chance of sleeping on the plane.

Alternatively: I recommend clubbing the night before departure. Or impromptu road trips to say your last goodbyes. Extra points if you expect yourself to work or attend any professional engagement upon arrival at your destination. This kind of pressure proves to be helpful when preparing to shed your first tear.

Step 2: Confront a Problem That is Completely Out of Your Control

In this particular case study, not receiving my PCR test results in time served as the perfect catalyst through which I could melt into a puddle on the Terminal 1 floor of MSP that day. I had feigned authority to myself after searching–and calling–at least 10 different clinics offering the “stick-up-your nose” test in preparation to fly. I even prided myself in knowing that my left nostril had the ability to better facilitate a Covid test than my right, which a nurse informed me of. The bottom line remained: every testing center I found in Minnesota could not guarantee results in less than 3 (in some cases business) days. On the flip side, to re-enter Tunisia I needed a certified result from a test taken within 72 hours or less. I know!! What a joke.

So, United Airlines denied me the right to get on the first leg of my journey. And because I was in the the middle of the country requiring at least 20 hours of travel to Tunis, and because nearly no country was accepting Americans reducing these flights to basically nothing, and because YES WE ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF A FREAKING PANDEMIC, I felt the weight of something so completely out of my control just as quickly as I built the lie of being in it. I would have to wait an entire week to try again to accomplish something that seemingly relied on chance.**

And TBH the United Airlines associate, who first broke the news that I couldn’t get back to Tunis, was just plain old mean about it. (Not you Mr. J Clemson who helped me eventually sort this shit out in the end! You were awesome!).

Additional Resources: delayed or canceled flights, strikes and protests, and God forbid actually testing positive for Covid would qualify under the category of of a “problem that is completely out of your control”.

Step 3: Release Stress by Making Water Come Out of Your Eyes

This might be the time and place to address the added challenges of Covid–because crying in a mask doesn’t come naturally to most. At first, I periodically tugged my mask low enough to remove the tears and snot with a tissue. Then I realized… I could just let it all out! When the mask became soggy, I removed the strings around my ears and blew my nose into the fabric that conveniently covered my nose. After which I would reach for another mask that I had intended to use during my now inaccessible flight.

Rinse & Repeat.

Important: this does not involve feeling embarrassed, trying to conceal yourself, or looking around to see just how bad others are judging.

NO BUT FOR REAL THOUGH,

Showing and expressing emotion–ESPECIALLY while dealing with flight problems, let along Covid–is completely fine (NO MATTER WHAT YOUR GENDER(S) IS/ARE) because you’re a human being. Now let’s continue normalizing the process of showing the full spectrum of emotion friends.

And finally, the next time you find yourself overwhelmed, remember:

“What happens to you doesn’t belong to you, only half concerns you. It’s not yours. Not yours only.” -Claudia Rankine.

**A United Airlines associate told me about the one and only MN Clinic to guarantee 24 hour PCR test results after I had been crying for an hour. That is how I eventually got back to Tunis.**

Did you enjoy the read? Consider leaving me a tip here. Dollars donated will most likely go towards funding another good cry in the airport while en route to visit my lovely family and friends.

Staying “Positive”, but Testing Negative

Collage created on Canva.com.

Lately it seems as though we have hit rock bottom in terms of this whole COVID-19 experience. In mid-October, one of my students tested positive, theoretically putting me at risk and requiring me to also test for the virus. So I made an appointment, stayed home, and let the prospect of being infected stew while waiting my turn to have a foot-long Q-tip shoved up my nose. 

On the morning of my test, the receptionist greeted me while taking a slow sip from her mug. This wasn’t just any mug. It was a mug decorated in a night-sky pattern, with blue cursive writing that spelled out, “Happy New Year 2020”. My wide-eyed reaction did nothing to disturb her numb expression. Instead, she simply set the cup down, and handed me some labels. 

Mug courtesy of teepublic.com.

I took those labels to the other side of the mobile testing trailer, and all the while the mug haunted me. I sat down in a cold, wooden chair, so the nurse could push my head back to look up my nose. And all I could see were those blue curvy letters, “Happy New Year 2020”, while he dug up what felt like boogers from 2015.

Two weeks later, and the mug still haunts me. Luckily I have since tested negative, but now I feel no shame when glaring at people in the grocery store who can’t handle wearing their mask properly. Masks have prevented the spread of covid in my classroom and several others… so when we line up at the cash register, I get vocal. 

“Please put your mask over your nose!” 

“Where is your mask??” 

“Do you know how many people DIED TODAY from covid-19?!”

The response: compliance. Everyone I’ve asked has always pushed their masks up over their sniffer. Surprisingly, these strangers follow my unsolicited instructions better than most of my students in class. And my absolute favorite part is when these interactions end with a stranger sharing some hand sanitizer with me–nothing like solidarity in times of Corona. Sometimes you just gotta be the boss-ass woman setting standards, even if some shoppers stop to stare and laugh. 

So last year for Halloween I dressed up as the scariest shit I could imagine: plastic pollution. This year, my costume would most certainly be the virus, or perhaps that morbid mug, if we had the chance to properly celebrate. In the end though I have to give some credit to the receptionist for sporting such a taboo coffee cup. She clearly is that brave in the face of covid, or just really has an awesome sense of humor. Either way, if I must go back again I’m asking if she wants to be friends.

Halloween 2019, photo courtesy of my lovely mom.

Packing for the Trip (and on the Pounds)

Before you read, I cordially invite you to my email list party. RSVP here!

My life usually follows the cycle of moving to a new country in the fall, hunkering down to work through the winter, and then emerging for damage control in the spring. Whether it be moving to Tunisia (again), setting up for grad school in Budapest, or attending Carleton back in the day–this pattern prevails.

Winter, for me, means moving mountains while not caring how many cookies or slices of pizza it takes to get the work done. Perhaps not the healthiest approach, but if you’ve ever tried to successfully complete a Master’s degree in 10 months… you know it’s one of very few options. 

Spring. Spring! Now that is my season to breath. Tunisian Arabic has a lovely expression for this: riguel omourek (Ree-gal oo-mour-ik). If Google offered a translation it would be, “take time to figure your shit out”. 

Spring hiking in Haouaria, 2017. P.C. goes to the fabulous Annie!

In Spring I usually ree-gal oo-mour-ee by counting the cookies and slices, swapping them for fruits and veggies, and taking walks to see the green. However, this year marks the second in a row in which my shit has not been properly sorted. I conceded 2019 to my thesis research, and Covid-19 swiped 2020’s window of opportunity. 

Long story short: I’m carrying 10 pounds from last year, 10 from this year, and in true overachieving fashion, working on the “Quarantine 15” for bonus points. My current solution to this body clutter is not buying an air conditioning unit in hopes of sweating the weight out this summer. Yalla!

Alright, I do realize that solution maybe far fetched and I just want you to know I really do have a plan that involves more salad, Yoga with Adriene, and  The Fitness Marshall. See below.

But that plan takes time and patience just like any shift, and Covid-19 isn’t going anywhere soon. I know this. I’m able to write it. However, I don’t always feel it. So when we all emerge from quarantine I know there will be times when I am teaching a class, or at a cafe with friends thinking, “Oh god! Do they know my pants are a little tight? Do my arms look too big in this shirt??”. 

This is my problem, and it’s not my problem. I am guilty for the extra cookies, but I’m not responsible for the social pressure that makes gaining two pounds feel like forty. I mentally fight this lack of wiggle room now, and I’ve always fought it. And if this is how judgements about a person continue to be made… perhaps I need to tattoo my CV across my forehead–because I will add and drop a few pounds to learn and explore.

Lizzo’s tiny purse “big enough to fit all the f@$!s” she gives. P.C. Insider.

Society and the media have become aware of this body image thing, yet we’ve still got a long way to go. Just like me and my grad school/winter/corona weight. So in the meantime, remember only make enough space in our mind for these worries as there is in Lizzo’s tiny purse. Focus on being healthy, not on meeting  expectations set by the media and industries. And by the way, following Celeste Barber on IG is a great way to start doing just that.

Stay safe and strong, friends!

#Celestechallengeaccepted. P.C. goes to the Daily Mail.

Did you enjoy the read? Consider leaving me a tip here.

And if you’ve already lost your invite to the email list party, here’s another one!

Finding Social Media’s Happy Side

P.C. goes to Canva.com.

Before you read, I cordially invite you to my email list party. RSVP here!

Dear lover of scrolling,

The experts tell you not to, but we all know they are robots. You can only truly implement their recommended dose if your internet is shittier than dial-up. And quarantine amplifies the dilemma–social media remains our only portal to the public sphere.

I get that. I’m no certified sociologist/psychologist/or “respectable” adult, but I do have some friend-to-friend advice. Maybe it’s not really about how much we use it, but how we use it?

What do you think?

 

So you are telling me that social media is our quarantine town square, and you feel a bit drained from hanging out there. Maybe even a little empty. I hear you.

When you scroll, do you comment? Like actually put down some words on a friend’s post? Or are you trapped in a passive mode of sneaky observation? I’m all for snooping, but merely scrolling puts you back in the days of staring at your high school crush from across the cafeteria.

And these people are your friends! So instead of speeding past their pictures, stop for a second to say hello. A post is the opening of a conversation. We can’t just camp out in our own corners of the internet  while refusing to visit others. I don’t think that’s how social settings work in person, so get out there and engage.

P.C. goes to Miss Doyle on Pinterest.

The past few weeks I’ve switched over to this mindset. Not only while scrolling, but also when posting. I’ve started to ask for pictures or opinions because I’m over the reaction buttons. Facebook, if you are listening: take. them. away.  Relying on them makes us lazy and kills our precious conversations.

Sure I still “like” things. I said I just started this habit so don’t tease me quite yet. And sometimes I don’t have much to say. Can we instead have an “I’m listening” button?

Of course we shouldn’t rely only on the big town square. It’s lovely to meet people there by chance, however life is not always one big party. Sometimes the parties are small! 😉

So don’t underestimate direct messaging or calls (whether it’s with one other person or five). Take the lead and plan a coffee date or ladies night today. Your friends will thank you for a much needed social interaction that is not a work meeting.

P.C. goes to Irina. Thanks for the fun call ladies!

Needless to say, I do not recommend divorce nor temporary separation for your particular relationship(s) with social media. Perhaps you need to renew or rewrite your vows with these things in mind? If that is the case, please invite me to all seven of those vow renewals. I love wedding cake.

Sincerely,

Your Fellow Facebook Friend/Instagram Follower

See you on the socials, friends!

Did you enjoy the read? Consider leaving me a tip here.

And if you’ve already lost your invite to the email list party, here’s another one!