IV. Witamy w Polsce!

I didn't sleep last night. I tried to fall asleep after finishing my blog entry, but kept popping out of bed with that gut feeling of missing something. Shit. Merde. Schieße. Gówno. My tummy twisted in knots that would made those Cirque de Soleil contortionists cry. I had nineteen hours left in the USA, and I was missing something I couldn't live without-- I just couldn't remember what. 
I looked at my phone. 3:43 AM. Thank God for New York City. Lord bless the wicked and depraved, the sinners and the 24/7 drugstore. I slipped on my white-pink-and-black fitflops (yes, I know what you’re thinking and I’m keeping them. In fact, they’re coming with me to Poland), and walked towards the fluorescent harbor in a sea of dumpster trucks, drunkards and masochistically self-motivated joggers. Walgreens. Times Square Walgreens, with red letters twenty feet tall and escalators between each floor. Yes, Lord bless New York City. I will sincerely miss the steamy smell of urine, the epileptic billboards and, most of all, the 24/7 drugstore, designed for neurotic Jews and bored homeless people to find solace in the twilight hours. My lighthouse. My sanctuary. My overly prepared mother away from home.

I gazed at the commercial bricolage. What did I forget again? Then it hit me. Saline solution. Of course! How could I have forgotten to pack saline solution?! Maybe they have saline solution in Poland. But what if they don’t? I should buy some. Just a few bottles. Wait a second.  Do I need saline solution? I’ve never used it. What if saline is addictive, and I become dependent on it? I should buy at least 10-12 bottles then. Do I need contacts to use it? Do I need contacts in general? What if I do? Will an optometrist see me within the next eighteen hours? I need to buy some saline. What if I rub my eye in cinnamon powder, or body glitter? Do they have body glitter in Poland? What if they don’t? I should buy some…*

Simultaneously manic and semiconscious, I paced through aisle 4A like a fashion-impaired psychopath. I wore white legging shorts, a gray t-shirt four times my size, a “bathroom tile” green headband, all-rubber white/pink/black fitflops (which I still defend), and crusty crescents of mascara beneath each eye as the final garnish. God bless impossibly apathetic check-out girls.

By 4:21 AM I had body glitter, saline solution, iodine salt, a “Get Well Soon” card (I don’t know anyone sick yet, but what if my sister gets bitten by a rabid Pomeranian while I’m in Poland? “Szybkiego powrotu do zdrowia” doesn’t carry the same sense of condolence), three nail files (I’ve never filed my nails, but what if they confiscate my nail clipper in my checked bag?), and a pack of gum. I finally felt prepared for Poland. I zombied my way home and attempted to sleep.

Rabid Pomeranian

By the time I reached my bed, however, I could already see the sun. My last sunrise in the USA, I thought. This continued throughout the day, turning my mundane activities into a monological melodrama. My last piece of chewing gum in the USA. My last burnt toast in the USA.  My last text message in the USA.  My last text message fight turned into sexting in the USA. Everything was my last, and thus everything felt just a bit more poignant, a tad sweeter. Maybe I liked my country after all.

After my last security frisk in the USA, boarded LOT flight 16 from Newark to Warsaw. The seats were smaller than any flight I’ve ever been on, including tiny domestic planes, and the only entertainment was a small screen at the front that haphazardly displayed the entire image in pink. But I was too nervous to watch anything anyway. And too tired to complain about the legroom, even to myself. And, most of all, I didn’t care about anything else because I was going to Poland. The place I’d been dreaming about for years. The place of my family, Jewish history, experimental theater and comfort food. I was about to be a Fulbright scholar. 


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*Thankfully, with my sanity temporarily restored after fake sausage and coffee, I chose to leave these items behind.