Currently listening to: Halo – Beyoncé
Everywhere I’m lookin’ now
I’m surrounded by your embrace
Baby, I can see your halo
You know you’re my savin’ grace
You’re everything I need and more
It’s written all over your face
Baby, I can feel your halo
Pray it won’t fade away
After finishing my shift, I headed home just long enough to grab my luggage and my work laptop. Quick hug to my mom and then I was off to the airport.
Our small crew met up at the airport. We grabbed a bite before boarding. The keto chicken fingers were… fine. A little dry, but the dipping sauce pulled it together. Would I order it again? Probably not. I ate one chicken finger and gave the rest to my friends to eat.
Wheels up and away we go.
Off into the sunset, I love flying during the golden hour. It’s calming and cinematic at the same time, like the day’s last exhale…
I’m feeling snacky: The vegan gummies? Sigma. The coffee was bitter AF but beggars can’t be choosers. The rest I shared with my friends cause they were hungry folks too.
I have to say that SeaTac airport is not intuitive whatsoever. The signage feels like a puzzle missing half its pieces and the construction doesn’t help. We waited nearly 30 minutes for the rental car shuttle, surrounded by what felt like half the state. I might’ve been spoiled by airports with light rails and trams zipping straight to rental hubs.
Driving through the city wasn’t any easier. The road signs looked like a Choose Your Own Adventure gone rogue. Three different rights leading in three different directions? Don’t they know that I’m an Asian female driver who fits the stereotype for bad Asian driver? But to their credit, Seattle drivers are next-level polite. Every time I missed a turn, got into the wrong lane, or drove slower than molasses, someone kindly let me in. No honking, cussing me out, or flipping me off. This was so foreign to me because I’m used to LA’s “every driver for themselves” mentality. I am usually the driver because I’m the one with motion sickness.
We finally made it to the Fairmont Hotel, and it was giving total Great Gatsby energy. The building opened in 1924 and still holds that old-world charm. As much as I love modern hotels like the Four Seasons, there’s something about staying somewhere with a little history in its bones.
At check-in, Anna at the front desk picked up on the fact that I was getting hangry. I’d basically been surviving on coffee, gummy bears, and a chicken finger all day.
She went above and beyond: not only did she find us food (even though room service was already closed, but she also upgraded us to a junior suite. I love that for us.
We got to chatting and found out that she was a shoe designer and used to live in Los Angeles back in the days. How cool is that? She was telling us the celebrities she made shoes for and how it was a family business.
The bag she handed us had vegetarian sandwiches, Caesar salads, and four bottles of water. I normally eat slow, but that night I inhaled half a sandwich so fast, I almost choked. Zero regrets though.
I thought I could stay awake longer but I was mistaken. Since I didn’t sleep on the plane nor did I sleep well the night before, it was lights out for me and off to dreamland.
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