god called again today...
...still no voicemail

leaving on a jet plane

I just rediscovered something.
A pen.
Yes, a magical instrument used to write.
I have this burning desire to write.
I am in an airport with no computer.
Funny how easily I could forget that I can write the good old fashioned way -
pen to paper.

We spoke about holiday travel trends. I found myself memorized by his taxi licence mounted on the front dashboard. His conversation was pleasant, but his photo on his licence was eerily resembled one that you might see on the late evening news. The headline might be something like, "Taxi driver kills young girl in a sudden rage while driving her to the airport."
He dropped me off safely at the airport. Now I feel bad because I forgot to tip him.

Flying is fantastic. I always feel tingly as I walk through the airport. Something exciting and refreshing about going somewhere new. Each time I enter an airport, regardless of if I am departing or arriving- I come out a changed girl. New perspectives and experiences, and a renewed view on life. It feels so good. It makes me feel alive.

People are beginning to line up now. The plane is on time and scheduled to depart in 45 mins. I don't want to stop writing though. I'm not writing anything important but it feels good. It feels like a release.

I am excited to leave town. I will be equally excited to return. I am glad to be where I am and to have done the things I have done. They have all made me who I am, and right now I am thrilled to be me.

**************************************

I stopped writing and got up to stand in line. Only to stand there for an hour and a half. Fog in the bay area delayed my plane.

California here I come!

Hello, this is god

That's right. He tried to call me. Not just once- but many times over the last couple weeks. He didn't leave a message though. I probably should have answered to see whats up. I wonder if he will call again.

I just tried to delete someone, but I kept getting messages saying
"Sorry, the server could not delete contact, try again."
Strange, huh.

One good citizen

Yesterday I voted. I was really excited- because I never vote. Then I realized that I didn't really want to vote for or against anything. Then I was sad that I did.

I got this as a forward in my email today

Can you say Dyslexia

fi yuo cna raed tihs, yuo hvae a sgtrane mnid too




Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55% of plepoe can.

i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! if you can raed tihs forwrad it.

forest

A year ago today, I ran a marathon. Strange. It is raining today, just as it was last year. I watched some of the runners as I drove a friend to work. Today is also the New York marathon. Funny how priorities change. I don't feel like I have the time to run that far and train that hard now.

Reflective black

Reflective black.I can't think of a better way to describe late rainy nights. It was the perfect temperature to take the long way. I felt like walking on my toes, and my silver lined slippers were the shoe of choice. The streets were wet and shiny. I played hop-scotch in the rain puddles. The spring in my step took attention away from my wet hair and runny nose. She looked at me like I was crazy when I asked for the ticket. I had strolled, contemplated, and wasted time so I wouldn't arrive to soon. Only to find upon arrival, that I was at the wrong theater. Determination and lightning fast steps carried me back to my car in time to drive to the correct location. I paid for my ticket and quickly walked to my seat. It was a fantastic movie. Sofia Coppola is amazing!

Flake, by Jack Johnston makes me think of vampires. Strange, huh.
When that song first came out I was addicted to it. I immediately fell in love. At the time I was still living at home with my parents, going to community college, and working part time as a waitress. I always worked at 4pm on Saturdays. I hated working breakfast. The restaurant had a breakfast buffet that consisted of greasy bacon and soggy pancakes. It was gross, and so were the people that ordered it and proceeded to eat and eat. I think the biscuits and gravy were the worst- soggy bread and white nasty gravy. It was enough to make me sick.
I kicked off my Saturday mornings with a little homework. Yes, the same homework I spent my Friday night working on. After a couple hours of work I would turn the TV to TBS or USA. Those were my favorite channels. They always played my favorite movies on Saturday afternoons. Someone at that network must have been a huge fan of Interview With a Vampire because there was a good month when that was all they showed. It was the same time when Flake was released to the radio. Now I will forever picture Brad Pit as a vampire every time I hear that song.

I have chosen to spend my thanksgiving/birthday with my brother in sunny California. I can't wait. I am so happy that he is my big brother. He is actually excited that I am coming! There is something about a growing relationship with a family member that is really comforting. I feel close to my parents as well, but for some reason I have never felt close to my other two brothers.

Yesterday I bought a bed.
"Your and adult now!"
That was the response most people gave when I told them how excited I was that I will no longer be sleeping on the floor. How does buying a bed suddenly make me an adult? I suppose I could have spent the money on clothing or alcohol- would that have made me an adolescent? And now that I am a proud owner of a bed, I can go out and find a lover. Our culture classifies an adult by actions rather than age. I was technically an adult when I turned 18. If responsibilities and actions classify someone as an adult, then being an adult is variable. Once you become one, you can just as easily become a child. So why do we bother calling anyone an adult. I don't really like that word, and I don't know that I want to be an adult anyways. I like watching cartoons on Saturday mornings and I don't eat diner.

***I wrote this on Saturday and posted it on Sunday*****

I just deleted my myspace. How liberating!

concern

I can't explain the look of concern that overcame his face- but it was a look that changed the way I saw him. I wanted to tell him what happened all over again, just to see it once more. Someone (besides my family) was so worried about me. I've seen that look many times since- and each time it has had the same effect on me. Maybe it is that look that pushes me over the edge of reason. That causes me to make the same mistakes over and over. It has been a few years since the first time I saw it. I know it will happen again- I just hope it's different next time.