There are times when life melds wonderfully, but most of the time I feel as though I am leading a double life. In part, this is to figure out what the heck I really am doing with all my time and what I should continue to do because it makes me happy and what I shouldn't do because it makes me cry, or what is important for me to do because it makes me cry and that means I'm learning or what makes me laugh and I learn and, well, I hope you get the point.
Whatever the case, there is a lot of doing lately. And a lot of head turning. And a lot of pondering and agreeing and disagreeing. If you're worried about me at this point.. please don't be. It is all part of the journey afterall.
And I'm finally seeing a counselor and listening to some amazing spiritual advisors (like the lovely Becky, Enlightening Whispers, and long time acquaintance Jim, Spiritual Awakening Process). And although they keep reminding me that learning to be healthy and happy requires a lot of letting go... in order for me to let go also means I have to let go of fear and my fear is usually the fear of saying yes. So, therefore, there is a lot of saying yes and DOING!
Last week was very full.
Sunday evening was an advisory board dinner (for Gamma Phi Beta, as I'm helping out as the PR advisor for our local chapter) followed IMMEDIATELY by me checking out a new church. I'm still checking it out. It is interesting. Lots of very nice people, good music, open.. a bit emotive for me (I know, it always suprises me, too, that the one thing I am NOT emotive about is my personal relationship with the universe, at least not in front of people).
Monday night was dinner and truth telling with some of my closest friends. I don't think they would mind me stating that we're all very different and each come with a very unique set of fucked up issues. We're working on them. What else is there to do?
Tuesday night attended T.W.G. at the new church. TWG stands for Time With God. A band plays, there is art, journaling, talking, prayer. Like I said, I'm trying it out... I don't know if it will change my relationship with the universe, or if that is even what I want to do. But sometimes, especially lately, when the universe throws something into the path, it's best not to ignore it.
Wednesday night I had drinks with a good-looking new acquaintance. We went to the Hollow, which was nice because I got my favourite beer and my head didn't explode from newness.
Thursday I went to my first sushi restaurant (no I didn't eat, nor will I eat, fish), but had a yummy happy bowl and then we went to the most unbelievable play in ever. "Shipwrecked". just a few players. It was eccentric and harrowing and funny. I laughed, I cried, I laughed so hard I cried. Yep, it was amazing.
Friday night Sam and I went to another play, of not quite the same caliber, but super enjoyable for all its hokiness. Also, we were smart enough to sneak in a bottle of rum when we realized there was no alcohol. Unfortunately, they served soda in cans, so there were awkward bathroom breaks and guzzling and pouring and giggling. Fortunately, the couple seated with us were so sweet and innocent they really didn't have a clue.
And then I made a complete fool of myself afterwards talking as loudly as ever about the hot 17-year-old in the play... unfortunately, his mother was behind us. She didn't appear to be drinking rum, so she wasn't quite as pleased with the conversation. Oh well. I don't think I should have to explain to EVERY person I run into that I don't discriminate (especially by age). I'm an equal opportunity flirt. It's a talent.
Saturday was lounging and (owl)ie creating before heading to a friend's for wine and jewelry and delicious snackies, like brie. mmmmmmmmmmm. And upon arriving home I stayed up to crochet and watch "Donnie Darko".. twice.
Yea, I know, but I couldn't sleep.
See, here's the thing about trying to understand oneself.. it requires re-processing things. A LOT. because first everything is processed as normal (which isn't always healthy), and then there is taking a step back and thinking, "okay, so if I weren't me and I were a normal person who wasn't terrified of these things, how would I react and process things?" and then re-processing. But then all those habits crop up again and your brain starts twisting things into old, recognizable forms. And then... you have to bloody start all over re-evaluating and, well, it's exhausting AND LOUD. So I've been completely wired a lot lately.
And, yes, it's okay if at this point you think I'm utterly insane (worse than we expected). I keep wondering the same. But I'd rather be where I am now.. starting to understand the patterns and know that they are fixable and that a lot of things about me are perfectly perfect... then always scared that I'm just not experiencing life because I AM Scared.
25.10.11
18.10.11
Lazy Weekend, Somewhat
Saturday, Aurora and I headed to farmers' market and bought some delicious locally made soap and soy melts for our warmer - which means as soon as I remember to replace my burnt out bulb our house will deceitfully smell of mulled cider. And an amazing hand crafted wood top and spinner.
We also went to Rock Paper Scissors to get our hair did. And boy oh boy did we need it! As my hair grows at an unbelievable rate I always come out on the end of my six weeks looking a ragamuffin; and Aurora, with her opposite of mommy hair (thin and straight), always looks of ragamuffin-ness. But now we look lovely!
Both with some added red highlights to our hair; although Aurora REALLY wanted all over color. This is how her logic worked.
Earlier that morning:
"Mom, look a SQUIRREL!"
"ARGGGGGHHHHHHH!"
"Mom, why do you hate squirrels?"
"Because they are evil and they attack me."
"Why don't they attack everyone else? Is it because you look horrible and we look pretty?"
And which point I begin crying, but I think it was mostly with hilarity.
A couple of hours later, whilst Meg is coloring my hair:
"Mom, do I get color all over?"
"No, Aurora, you need those brain cells."
"But, Mom, the squirrels attack me, too!"
A nice bit of logic. And really, if she weren't so very young that argument would have been enough to convince me.
And I promise to not cut A's hairbangs by myself anymore. It just frustrates everyone, including our delightful and magical hair stylist. So I've already made an appointment for A's next trim. Yea for me.
Aurora, upon arriving home, played for hours with the top spinner. It is quite impressive. I am, at my best, uncoordinated, so although she can get it to spin upside down, add toys to it, run it into furniture, in the carpet, down stairs, and have it spin for hours EVERYTIME, I have only ONCE gotten it to spin.
And I got to spend hours crocheting, reading, occasionally writing, and watching random movies whilst she played at my feet. It was lovely. We even treated ourselves to fries and a shake from a local hamburger joint.
Sunday, oh what a rainy rainy Sunday, proved to be delightful as well.
We got dressed...
Well, actually I wore my sweats, so just Aurora got dressed in her usual finery.
Now, I realize it LOOKS like she's wearing the same outfit, but she's not. She just apparently is big into Pink tops, and happens to have two sparkly skirts (one is white and one is pink). And she, getting her fashion sense from her fabulous mother, couldn't pick the matching hot pink leg warmers in her drawer. Nope, had to go for the Yote stripes. That's my girl!
And went to the Sunrise. Great spot for rainy days, snow days, or hangovers. We spent a long time playing hangman, drinking coffee (or hot chocolate to which she wanted to add sugar - she got that gene from Tia Angel as I drink even my coffee black), eating lots of yummy sausage and strawberry covered french toast.
Talk soon turned serious, however, as she decided she wanted to know what would happen if there was a space shake. So, I delved into earth quakes and tetonic plates (using our dishes for demos) and how we couldn't do that in space what with no land. She didn't really buy it and thought if the whole world shook enough surely something would happen and my knowledge was at an end, so you know I really couldn't tell her and decided perhaps it was time for a distraction.
Fortunately, she had to use the restroom. She also insisted on going by herself. Ahhh, the inner mommy struggle. I do perfer for her to be independent (although this backfires an awful lot) and we live in an area I consider to be very safe, but still, mommy senses start tingling when the little one wanders too far. But I managed to let her go. And when she returned she proved she's my daughter through and through:
"MOM! I saw a cute boy! He's as tall as me and we both are wearing short sleeves!"
Yep, I know how those cogs are working. Clearly the fateful sign of similar length sleeves meant they were truly soul mates. Goodness, I know I'm not supposed to rush it, but aren't we going to have so much fun together when she's older? Think of all the boy terrorizing we can do!
Unfortuantely, as I had a meeting with a client Sunday afternoon, our rainy day ended far too soon.
But I'm up for singleton adventures this week which will involve hanging out a new church I'm trying on for size (tonight is their bi-weekly concert), having libations at my favourite place (Yep, the Hollow), getting to attend TWO plays, and I have a surprising amount of time on my hands this Saturday and Sunday, so some activities are as of yet unforeseen!
We also went to Rock Paper Scissors to get our hair did. And boy oh boy did we need it! As my hair grows at an unbelievable rate I always come out on the end of my six weeks looking a ragamuffin; and Aurora, with her opposite of mommy hair (thin and straight), always looks of ragamuffin-ness. But now we look lovely!
Both with some added red highlights to our hair; although Aurora REALLY wanted all over color. This is how her logic worked.
Earlier that morning:
"Mom, look a SQUIRREL!"
"ARGGGGGHHHHHHH!"
"Mom, why do you hate squirrels?"
"Because they are evil and they attack me."
"Why don't they attack everyone else? Is it because you look horrible and we look pretty?"
And which point I begin crying, but I think it was mostly with hilarity.
A couple of hours later, whilst Meg is coloring my hair:
"Mom, do I get color all over?"
"No, Aurora, you need those brain cells."
"But, Mom, the squirrels attack me, too!"
A nice bit of logic. And really, if she weren't so very young that argument would have been enough to convince me.
And I promise to not cut A's hairbangs by myself anymore. It just frustrates everyone, including our delightful and magical hair stylist. So I've already made an appointment for A's next trim. Yea for me.
Aurora, upon arriving home, played for hours with the top spinner. It is quite impressive. I am, at my best, uncoordinated, so although she can get it to spin upside down, add toys to it, run it into furniture, in the carpet, down stairs, and have it spin for hours EVERYTIME, I have only ONCE gotten it to spin.
And I got to spend hours crocheting, reading, occasionally writing, and watching random movies whilst she played at my feet. It was lovely. We even treated ourselves to fries and a shake from a local hamburger joint.
Sunday, oh what a rainy rainy Sunday, proved to be delightful as well.
We got dressed...
Well, actually I wore my sweats, so just Aurora got dressed in her usual finery.
Now, I realize it LOOKS like she's wearing the same outfit, but she's not. She just apparently is big into Pink tops, and happens to have two sparkly skirts (one is white and one is pink). And she, getting her fashion sense from her fabulous mother, couldn't pick the matching hot pink leg warmers in her drawer. Nope, had to go for the Yote stripes. That's my girl!
And went to the Sunrise. Great spot for rainy days, snow days, or hangovers. We spent a long time playing hangman, drinking coffee (or hot chocolate to which she wanted to add sugar - she got that gene from Tia Angel as I drink even my coffee black), eating lots of yummy sausage and strawberry covered french toast.
Talk soon turned serious, however, as she decided she wanted to know what would happen if there was a space shake. So, I delved into earth quakes and tetonic plates (using our dishes for demos) and how we couldn't do that in space what with no land. She didn't really buy it and thought if the whole world shook enough surely something would happen and my knowledge was at an end, so you know I really couldn't tell her and decided perhaps it was time for a distraction.
Fortunately, she had to use the restroom. She also insisted on going by herself. Ahhh, the inner mommy struggle. I do perfer for her to be independent (although this backfires an awful lot) and we live in an area I consider to be very safe, but still, mommy senses start tingling when the little one wanders too far. But I managed to let her go. And when she returned she proved she's my daughter through and through:
"MOM! I saw a cute boy! He's as tall as me and we both are wearing short sleeves!"
Yep, I know how those cogs are working. Clearly the fateful sign of similar length sleeves meant they were truly soul mates. Goodness, I know I'm not supposed to rush it, but aren't we going to have so much fun together when she's older? Think of all the boy terrorizing we can do!
Unfortuantely, as I had a meeting with a client Sunday afternoon, our rainy day ended far too soon.
But I'm up for singleton adventures this week which will involve hanging out a new church I'm trying on for size (tonight is their bi-weekly concert), having libations at my favourite place (Yep, the Hollow), getting to attend TWO plays, and I have a surprising amount of time on my hands this Saturday and Sunday, so some activities are as of yet unforeseen!
14.10.11
13.10.11
Triple Six
It seems fitting that today I should reach post number "666". You may say what you want about this number; I find it beautiful. Three is the magic number, as you know, and I'm a six.
"This is the peace lover. The number six is a loving, stable, and harmonious vibration. Ruled by Venus.
Keywords: compassionate, stable, family-loving, trustworthy, domesticated. If expressed negatively, superficial, jealous, possessive, unwilling to change.
As lovers: Number Sixes have a deep dislike of discord and will generally work hard at keeping the peace. They are very attached to their homes and their families. At their best, they are devoted and stable partners who do whatever they can to maintain balance and harmony. At their worst, they take their peace-loving natures too far, and become lethargic, diplomatic to the point of superficiality, and jealous."
(hat courtesy of Angel)
And some will say the following about sixes:"This is the peace lover. The number six is a loving, stable, and harmonious vibration. Ruled by Venus.
Keywords: compassionate, stable, family-loving, trustworthy, domesticated. If expressed negatively, superficial, jealous, possessive, unwilling to change.
As lovers: Number Sixes have a deep dislike of discord and will generally work hard at keeping the peace. They are very attached to their homes and their families. At their best, they are devoted and stable partners who do whatever they can to maintain balance and harmony. At their worst, they take their peace-loving natures too far, and become lethargic, diplomatic to the point of superficiality, and jealous."
12.10.11
Moon Child
Orion and the planets are calling to me.
I have the desire to wander somewhere quiet, and still, and lit only by the moon.
You could join me.
We could be silent together.
I also want to light a fire, and laugh, and let go, and dance.
All that is past will turn to ash.
The future will be born in energetic flame, on the tip of my tongue, bubbling from my throat, drunk on wine, and love of life.
I believe the Fates are smiling, and plotting, with a twinkle in that eye, which makes me giggle as I shiver.
Can you feel the electricity around your fingertips?
I'd let you shock me.
Set aside your cynicism, disbelief, insecurities, and fear.
Prepare for acceptance, magic, warmth, discovery, and joy.
I want to love and be loved, for me and for you, even if only for a little while.
I have the desire to wander somewhere quiet, and still, and lit only by the moon.
You could join me.
We could be silent together.
I also want to light a fire, and laugh, and let go, and dance.
All that is past will turn to ash.
The future will be born in energetic flame, on the tip of my tongue, bubbling from my throat, drunk on wine, and love of life.
I believe the Fates are smiling, and plotting, with a twinkle in that eye, which makes me giggle as I shiver.
Can you feel the electricity around your fingertips?
I'd let you shock me.
Set aside your cynicism, disbelief, insecurities, and fear.
Prepare for acceptance, magic, warmth, discovery, and joy.
I want to love and be loved, for me and for you, even if only for a little while.
10.10.11
Lingering
There was lingering this weekend. I think it may be hard to explain what a delightful surprise that was for me. Lingering is so rare anymore. I find it is different from being stationary. I may have sat home some evenings last week devouring books, but with so many things to do in this very social weekend I expected to be a bit harried. Of course, you must understand the harried feeling is something that comes from myself, and not due to anyone else.
I shall try to clarify a bit. I am a planner. I always have been. I know that it will take me 12.5 minutes max. to shower, 10 for my hair, 5 for my makeup, so in under 30 minutes I can be out the door. And on my way somewhere that I know will only take 15 minutes but the anxiety of being late is already worrying me, so I started my shower 30 minutes before I should have and now am leaving a full 20 minutes ahead of time because the butterflies in my stomach just can't stand to stare at the clock and count down the seconds to when any normal person would think about leaving.
And working in events, where everything is either a giant or miniscule puzzle piece to a larger whole that we are putting together, compounds this need. From the outlook calendars (where I track not only my own calendar, but our setup calendar, and our AV tech's calendar, the conference room calendar), to the system wherein I do most of my job (EMS) which tracks every class, every meeting, every banquet, lecture, student movie showing, wedding, reception, holiday, etc. and places this many tables on this wall, in this hallway at this precise moment in this precise order, and where will the microphones be and at what time and will it be him or me or someone else and what side note did that customer request that isn't standard so we just have to add it and remember it, to the two homemade wall calendars behind me in the office (home made because companies don't make yearly calendars as far out as I need them to fit all the pieces together), and there is Aurora's custody schedule and school schedule and homework schedule, etc.
This is all very well and good for my freakishly over-active control feature, and not so well and good for me trying to let loose and enjoy life in general without freaking everyone else out.
Sooooooo this weekend I envisioned something like this:
Frances' at 10:45 to leave for Courtney's Pampered Chef party at 11am
2 pm or so to wander with the ladies to Art in the Bar IV
3 pm to hang out with Frances whilst getting ready for a wedding she was going to
5 pm to hang out with Emma to dine and get ready for PROM!coming
7 pm leave for PROM!coming out in BFE
7:30 PROM!coming begins
What happened was:
11:15 leave Frances' with the amazing entourage of Mee-Ae, FYN, Emma, and Samantha. Eat, drink, be merry, girl chat, order something, chat, get a lovely bottle of Malbec (Thank you Courtney for remembering how much I love Malbecs!) head to Emma's.
1:30 pm wander from Emma's, the exceedingly farther than I thought way to Portches for their jewelry sale, bitching and glaring the whole time at Emma for how far she is making me traverse
1:45 pm enter the GLORIOUSLY kept under glass jewelry store of Portches, which is having a 50% off sale, and not at all what I expected and tried not to choke at some of the over 10K tags. I also made the very wise decision to NOT try on the hand painted enamel piece with gold filigree and custom set diamonds from 1890 that would have looked absolutely like it was made to rest on my collar bones and had a price tag of 14K.
2:30ish leave and walk past the Chocolate Bar and decide it would be quite wise of us to also enter and buy some chocolate to make up for the lack of purchases in the antique jewelers store.
3 pm walk out with Dark Chocolate & Ginger Twig/Lime & Ginger Hard Vanilla Twig (these have yet to be devoured)
3: 15 pm enter PieHole for some pizza. Flirt shamelessly with gorgeous singer from Finn Riggins who I don't know is married until we leave with our hot slices of pizza for the LONG Trek back to Emma's.
3:45 pm leave Emma's with Frances to prep her wedding attire
4:30 pm arrive back at Emma's with PROM!coming gear and the intention to FINALLY make it to Art in the Bar. Another long trek.
5 pm enter Art in the Bar IV and visit with friend Anica, whose manga style work I love and who made me aware of the event in the first place.
We see amazing lego treasure boxes complete with sneaky hiding holes and hundreds of dollars in work.
Beautiful photography from Wayne at Dead Bird Gallery. My favourite is the dead fly. Emma got a great necklace at 50% from him. Why? Because she's hot and batted her eyelashes.
There was this piece that I like from Manuela Muminovic:
And then we headed down town because there were MORE EVENTS.. like the leftover evening of that wedding Frances went to and then an old friend from college was having a birthday party and we had to stop in and even though I was done drinking for the evening a certain person who shall remain nameless except for the new title of "Scrumy" ordered us whiskey shots and beer. Yes, the look of incredulity on my face (I had just consumed almost an entire bottle of alcohol by myself at PROM!coming) was enough that a few people made note of it and then I put on my big girl panties and drank it all anyway.
I shall try to clarify a bit. I am a planner. I always have been. I know that it will take me 12.5 minutes max. to shower, 10 for my hair, 5 for my makeup, so in under 30 minutes I can be out the door. And on my way somewhere that I know will only take 15 minutes but the anxiety of being late is already worrying me, so I started my shower 30 minutes before I should have and now am leaving a full 20 minutes ahead of time because the butterflies in my stomach just can't stand to stare at the clock and count down the seconds to when any normal person would think about leaving.
And working in events, where everything is either a giant or miniscule puzzle piece to a larger whole that we are putting together, compounds this need. From the outlook calendars (where I track not only my own calendar, but our setup calendar, and our AV tech's calendar, the conference room calendar), to the system wherein I do most of my job (EMS) which tracks every class, every meeting, every banquet, lecture, student movie showing, wedding, reception, holiday, etc. and places this many tables on this wall, in this hallway at this precise moment in this precise order, and where will the microphones be and at what time and will it be him or me or someone else and what side note did that customer request that isn't standard so we just have to add it and remember it, to the two homemade wall calendars behind me in the office (home made because companies don't make yearly calendars as far out as I need them to fit all the pieces together), and there is Aurora's custody schedule and school schedule and homework schedule, etc.
This is all very well and good for my freakishly over-active control feature, and not so well and good for me trying to let loose and enjoy life in general without freaking everyone else out.
Sooooooo this weekend I envisioned something like this:
Frances' at 10:45 to leave for Courtney's Pampered Chef party at 11am
2 pm or so to wander with the ladies to Art in the Bar IV
3 pm to hang out with Frances whilst getting ready for a wedding she was going to
5 pm to hang out with Emma to dine and get ready for PROM!coming
7 pm leave for PROM!coming out in BFE
7:30 PROM!coming begins
What happened was:
11:15 leave Frances' with the amazing entourage of Mee-Ae, FYN, Emma, and Samantha. Eat, drink, be merry, girl chat, order something, chat, get a lovely bottle of Malbec (Thank you Courtney for remembering how much I love Malbecs!) head to Emma's.
1:30 pm wander from Emma's, the exceedingly farther than I thought way to Portches for their jewelry sale, bitching and glaring the whole time at Emma for how far she is making me traverse
1:45 pm enter the GLORIOUSLY kept under glass jewelry store of Portches, which is having a 50% off sale, and not at all what I expected and tried not to choke at some of the over 10K tags. I also made the very wise decision to NOT try on the hand painted enamel piece with gold filigree and custom set diamonds from 1890 that would have looked absolutely like it was made to rest on my collar bones and had a price tag of 14K.
2:30ish leave and walk past the Chocolate Bar and decide it would be quite wise of us to also enter and buy some chocolate to make up for the lack of purchases in the antique jewelers store.
3 pm walk out with Dark Chocolate & Ginger Twig/Lime & Ginger Hard Vanilla Twig (these have yet to be devoured)
3: 15 pm enter PieHole for some pizza. Flirt shamelessly with gorgeous singer from Finn Riggins who I don't know is married until we leave with our hot slices of pizza for the LONG Trek back to Emma's.
3:45 pm leave Emma's with Frances to prep her wedding attire
4:30 pm arrive back at Emma's with PROM!coming gear and the intention to FINALLY make it to Art in the Bar. Another long trek.
5 pm enter Art in the Bar IV and visit with friend Anica, whose manga style work I love and who made me aware of the event in the first place.
We see amazing lego treasure boxes complete with sneaky hiding holes and hundreds of dollars in work.
Beautiful photography from Wayne at Dead Bird Gallery. My favourite is the dead fly. Emma got a great necklace at 50% from him. Why? Because she's hot and batted her eyelashes.
There was this piece that I like from Manuela Muminovic:
There is Connie Sales, and her art is deep and saddening and beautiful. And lots and lots of other amazing pieces.
We lingered here.. much longer than I intended and entered in an apropos text conversation which also was of the lingering type.
Emma walked back to her place for cash to purchase her necklace. I sat and talked with Anica and enjoyed a beer. Emma and I discussed the wisdom of perhaps getting dinner before heading to PROM!coming. We decided it would be good. Plus, we were enjoying the lingering. Or I was, maybe not so much Emma.
But realizing the clock we decided skipping food would be wise so we could dress.
And finally at 7:15 pm we make it back to Emma's to prep our lovely selves for the prom.
It is after 8 pm when Emma finally mentions how late it is and we are DEFINITELY late and am I going to be okay (you see, she's seen the anxiousness in action before and we were invited to come over EARLIER and now we were later and usually my head has exploded at this point).
And we arrived and then the party really got started. God, I needed the dancing. And soooo many great songs that were actually played at our high school dances.. and here are just a few of my favourite pictures from the night.
And then we headed down town because there were MORE EVENTS.. like the leftover evening of that wedding Frances went to and then an old friend from college was having a birthday party and we had to stop in and even though I was done drinking for the evening a certain person who shall remain nameless except for the new title of "Scrumy" ordered us whiskey shots and beer. Yes, the look of incredulity on my face (I had just consumed almost an entire bottle of alcohol by myself at PROM!coming) was enough that a few people made note of it and then I put on my big girl panties and drank it all anyway.
And the next morning we had brunch and you know my anxiety didn't return until I realized I was going to only just be on time to pick up Aurora and would not at all be able to shower or stop at the grocery or any of the other things I had on my schedule to do that Sunday.
7.10.11
Imaginings of a Traveler
Last night, whilst taking a break between Sherlock Holmes stories, I decided to write a bit. I walked to my book shelf and grabbed the nearest notebook. Stuffed between many blank pages were torn out pages from other notebooks.
Some pages were unsent letters filled with angst and heart wrenching truths that made me cry, but were not meant to be shared then nor at this moment (though someday some of them certainly will see light and you may even read portions). Three small pages, however, front and back, filled with tiny script ( which is odd because my handwriting tends to be as loud my mouth so I must have been nearing the end of the book) contained meanderings from a short sit in an airport lounge.
This is from a few years ago:
"No surprise to be surrounded by guys with high-n-tight haircuts. My departure from San Diego Internat'l; if I concentrate I can smell the light salt of the pacific bringing images of ships at port. And before me a young marine sitting "Indian Style" and barefoot in the soon-to-be uncomfortable black airport furniture. Whoever makes these chairs is probably swimming in a pool of Cristal while money falls from their balcony, which the maids are cleaning.
But back to my marine, he's slight of stature and is demurely listening to his iPod. If his hair hadn't belied his relaxed state I'm not sure the camo backpack & matching sandals would have given him away. But I am still new to this "Spy the Military" game I'm playing [thanks to NCIS]. He is lightly tanned and his eyes have begun to flick nervously at the encroaching Tide of people to his row.
I sit almost singularly in a long row with my back to a wall. I am waiting for him to make a move to a more defensible position - five seats to my left, near an emergency exit. But the idea of making an immediate move would give away his agenda of solitude.
There appear to be a few crowd watchers, other than myself, But I am at a small gate. A tiny plane to Vegas - seems odd- I wonder what the odds are. Everyone is busy pretending to be separate from humanity - even myself with my chicken scratch in a novel sized journal. Some are on their phones, pretending to be important. A lean and not ugly young gentleman to my right is discussing selling/buying a few stocks but I will pretend it is for the benefit of the frumpy girl with the Pringles next to him. It isn't hard to impress her, he thinks. But I am she and I'm moving on to someone more appealing and less mundane.
A man who is older cannot extricate himself from work. He is rifling through papers, some containing graphs, perhaps they are statistics regarding the number of deaths each year by lightening (more than sharks as we do not live in the water). Yesterday, in VA, a 12-year-old boy was struck and killed by lightening on his little league ball field. Game had been called. His mother was screaming for him to get off the field. Had she gone to get him perhaps her height would have distracted the gods - fooled Death for just a moment and went for her - sparing her son and the other boy playing catch with him.
This man with his laptop open and reading PDFs from his email. He is reading a study on lightening resistant clothing and this is how uniforms of the future come to made of rubber. Oy! Again this mere babe to my right will NOT stop discussing the market, now with a new victim of his feel important in the airport cellphone drama.
And then the marine stood up and it makes a bit of sense. Napoleon complex. I almost wish I am seated next to him so I can ask why he enlisted, but it is better this way. To imagine his need to prove himself to his tall and masculine father, or perhaps those bullies in school who found it too easy to pick him up in between classes and lodge him in an emptied locker in spite of his talent as a wiry wrestler.
There are many comical people at the gate today. A large woman in platform vinyl shoes, Betty Paige hair, and her calves tattooed with Frankenstein (left) and Bride (right) in mini black convertibles. I'm sure a glimpse of ink on her arms would reveal spider webs, bats, and perhaps an antique cross or sarcophagus.
An older gentleman is our flight attendant today. He looks like a high school teacher - Math or PE. His summer job allows him to travel around the US. His name is Kyle and his goal for the next 3 months is to see all over sized monuments, such as the largest ball of yarn, the largest frying pan, the most ginormous shoelace, and, if lucky, the amazingly humongous collection of potato chips shaped like celebrities.
I would like to close my eyes and try my hand at sleeping; however, it is a very full flight and a listing head would not be appreciated, especially by the woman in white to my right. The raspberry paint on my lips would ruin her lovely cover."
Some pages were unsent letters filled with angst and heart wrenching truths that made me cry, but were not meant to be shared then nor at this moment (though someday some of them certainly will see light and you may even read portions). Three small pages, however, front and back, filled with tiny script ( which is odd because my handwriting tends to be as loud my mouth so I must have been nearing the end of the book) contained meanderings from a short sit in an airport lounge.
This is from a few years ago:
"No surprise to be surrounded by guys with high-n-tight haircuts. My departure from San Diego Internat'l; if I concentrate I can smell the light salt of the pacific bringing images of ships at port. And before me a young marine sitting "Indian Style" and barefoot in the soon-to-be uncomfortable black airport furniture. Whoever makes these chairs is probably swimming in a pool of Cristal while money falls from their balcony, which the maids are cleaning.
But back to my marine, he's slight of stature and is demurely listening to his iPod. If his hair hadn't belied his relaxed state I'm not sure the camo backpack & matching sandals would have given him away. But I am still new to this "Spy the Military" game I'm playing [thanks to NCIS]. He is lightly tanned and his eyes have begun to flick nervously at the encroaching Tide of people to his row.
I sit almost singularly in a long row with my back to a wall. I am waiting for him to make a move to a more defensible position - five seats to my left, near an emergency exit. But the idea of making an immediate move would give away his agenda of solitude.
There appear to be a few crowd watchers, other than myself, But I am at a small gate. A tiny plane to Vegas - seems odd- I wonder what the odds are. Everyone is busy pretending to be separate from humanity - even myself with my chicken scratch in a novel sized journal. Some are on their phones, pretending to be important. A lean and not ugly young gentleman to my right is discussing selling/buying a few stocks but I will pretend it is for the benefit of the frumpy girl with the Pringles next to him. It isn't hard to impress her, he thinks. But I am she and I'm moving on to someone more appealing and less mundane.
A man who is older cannot extricate himself from work. He is rifling through papers, some containing graphs, perhaps they are statistics regarding the number of deaths each year by lightening (more than sharks as we do not live in the water). Yesterday, in VA, a 12-year-old boy was struck and killed by lightening on his little league ball field. Game had been called. His mother was screaming for him to get off the field. Had she gone to get him perhaps her height would have distracted the gods - fooled Death for just a moment and went for her - sparing her son and the other boy playing catch with him.
This man with his laptop open and reading PDFs from his email. He is reading a study on lightening resistant clothing and this is how uniforms of the future come to made of rubber. Oy! Again this mere babe to my right will NOT stop discussing the market, now with a new victim of his feel important in the airport cellphone drama.
And then the marine stood up and it makes a bit of sense. Napoleon complex. I almost wish I am seated next to him so I can ask why he enlisted, but it is better this way. To imagine his need to prove himself to his tall and masculine father, or perhaps those bullies in school who found it too easy to pick him up in between classes and lodge him in an emptied locker in spite of his talent as a wiry wrestler.
There are many comical people at the gate today. A large woman in platform vinyl shoes, Betty Paige hair, and her calves tattooed with Frankenstein (left) and Bride (right) in mini black convertibles. I'm sure a glimpse of ink on her arms would reveal spider webs, bats, and perhaps an antique cross or sarcophagus.
An older gentleman is our flight attendant today. He looks like a high school teacher - Math or PE. His summer job allows him to travel around the US. His name is Kyle and his goal for the next 3 months is to see all over sized monuments, such as the largest ball of yarn, the largest frying pan, the most ginormous shoelace, and, if lucky, the amazingly humongous collection of potato chips shaped like celebrities.
I would like to close my eyes and try my hand at sleeping; however, it is a very full flight and a listing head would not be appreciated, especially by the woman in white to my right. The raspberry paint on my lips would ruin her lovely cover."
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