I'm in the eye of a hurricane. Not literally, but the flight was a torment of emotions worthy of a heavy dose of Midol. Once the Dramamine kicked in, I felt high. I cranked up my iPod, the song selection was perfect, and I felt happy. With myself, my music, my charisma in talking with seatmates and flight attentdants (even at 20 people seem to like a boy travelling by himself), and the world in general. By the flight's end, I was tired, sleepy, my whole head ached between the cabin pressure changes and my sinus congestion, and I felt a little airsick. I'm glad to be on solid ground - and that flight only lasted 2 hours. I've been here before. I'm pretty sure it might have been this terminal when Eric and I came to Florida 4 years ago. This is the eye. Nothing's moving, TVs are in English, Pizza Hut was my dinner, and I've got my GBA and Top Gear ready to go for the 2-hour layover. Then I get back on the plane for an 8-or-9-hour flight and the insanity really begins.