Jet Lag

So here I am, back in Greece, wide awake at 5 in the morning. What better time to catch up on my writing. Gotta love jet lag. Going back to America for one week is a perfect amount of time. That way you have 5 days of jet lag at home with just enough time to adjust to the western time zone before being yanked back to whatever the hell time zone Greece is on.

Home was wonderful. I saw so many people and had so much fun catching up with old friends and spending time with my family. I was running all over the city seeing people, shopping, going to appointments. But it was great. Christmas was all about family. We sat in front of the fire, read newly opened books, and went for walks in the crisp Seattle air. I love being home! I am happy being in Athens right now and I want to keep exploring the world but eventually I know, Seattle is where I want to be. Being around my family is just too wonderful.

So the trip was far too short and before I knew it I was back on a plane again. My first flight to JFK was painless and I slept most of the way. Cross country is now just a drop in a bucket for me. It doesn’t feel quite as long as it used to. Plus I moved to the emergency exit row right before takeoff, put my sleeping mask on and was out like a light. Prior to that however I realized that the person across the isle from me was in fact who I thought it was. Miranda from Sex in the City had also stolen an emergency exit row! Oh, us entitled feminists! I told her she was absolutely great, that I couldn’t believe no one else recognized her and settled back down in my window seat and left her to her New York Times.

In New York, my American teammate Erin was waiting for me and we boarded the plane to Athens together. We made friends with a Greek guy who traded seats with me since I wanted a window, talked to an American soccer player and an American basketball player and got settled in our seats for the long flight. My seat was a window all right but it turned out to be the last seat in the plane and the seat didn’t recline. Always fun for a 9 hour flight. And the only movie they played was the Stepford Wives, over and over again. The food was good though.

But the fun didn’t stop there. I was tired when I got to Athens but not abnormally so. I was glad to be done traveling and just wanted to get back to my comfortable apartment. But my fun wasn’t over. I had left the country to go home for xmas on the 20th of December which was one week after my three month visa had expired. My team was supposed to get me a work visa and all but they decided it would be easier to just pay the 600 euro fine and be done with it. So when I left the country they fined me but I didn’t happen to have 600 euroes in cash on me and they laughed when I tried to give them a credit card so they told me I would have to pay it when I returned. No problem. Well it happened to be problem. A two and half hour problem that finally got resolved when my manager came in and bullshitted his way through the whole thing. He told them I play for Panionios, that I won the championship last year and was the MVP and that I am one of top scorers in the Greek league right now. I guess these types of facts are an important part of the screening process for Greek Border Patrol. Not suprising really. Prior to his arrival I sat there watching throngs of people making their way happily and quickly through customs. Then I started thinking of the movie The Terminal and how the Athens airport would never be as self sufficient as JFK. I was daydreaming about a bed, sleeping laying down and cursing myself for hoping my flight out of Seattle was cancelled so I could have a few more days at home. This is not what I had in mind. I thought how I would be nearly homicidal if they tried to get me on another flight. The customs officer was looking at my passport like he was waiting for a revelation, speaking on the phone in Greek, and yelled at me to sit down when I tried to explain to him that I had the freaking money to pay the fine. What an asshole. I guess the problem was that I was supposed to stay in America for three months before returning. A nice fact that needs to be shared before I leave the country. Anyway, it got worked out and I have never been so happy to step foot in Greece. My team thought it was hilarious and started calling me the fugitive. It sure is great to be back.