Sunday, November 28, 2010

I couldn't think of a clever way to discuss the political turmoil associated with secret political documents being leaked on the Internet, so...

As a way to pay homage to my recent travels this year, and to announce my moratorium from
all things airport related, I have compiled a list of observations or experiences I find telling. Ahem..

  • Which security line you choose is the most important decision you will make ALL WEEK. This decision not only depends on how many people are in line, you must also judge each person by their perceived speed of getting undressed and re-dressed in line.
  • Although I prefer, and live and breathe off of, direct flights, if I must layover I make this decision based off known restaurants in the layover choices. An airport with a Chilis Too (Phoenix, O'hare, or DFW) receive an 'A', airports with a Cinnabon or Paradise Bakery (Salt Lake, Atlanta) are also good options. In March I had the privilege of spending 2 hours in the Charlotte, North Carolina airport and they had rocking chairs and trees in Terminal 2 simulating the quintessential southern comfort. I suggest everyone layover there.
  • More choices: At the security check point I always choose a counter with a female TSA agent. They are quick and don't talk much. Any issues at the ticket counter, I will choose a man. The whole, flash em and get bumped to first class does not work, but they hate their jobs less than women do.
  • I feel anxiety no matter what is in my bag. I travel with no liquids, drugs, or aerosol cans, but for some reason I feel like an X-ray machine can see through my soul. "Excuse me ma'am we are going to need to confiscate your iPad, seems like it's been tampered with by liquid holding terrorists".

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

How to annoy me...

Question my commitment to anything. Especially when my commitment to that thing has taken everything. When my commitment to what you are questioning has ruined my relationships and sanity and body and sleep.

I am fiercely committed. Perhaps no one knows that except me, because I am not committed on the outside. Seventy-eight percent of the time the way I act, things I say, clothes I wear, are the exact opposite from my actual commitments. I'm committed to you but I refuse to talk to you. I love you but I'll abandon you. Whatever. That's me. Gotta change.

No one knows what I'm talking about right now, and I like it that way.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Two months

So much fear. So much anxiety. So many prayers. So much unsatisfied hunger. So many sad eyes. So many flights. So many wishes. So many people. So many adjusted dreams.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Monday, November 8, 2010

Look how I'm placing all my napkins and my cutlery

Im having a dinner party and I'd like to invite Mat Kearney, Taylor Swift, and Drizzy Drake.

The conversation will go:

"Mat, thanks for exploring every aspect of relationships and leaving and distance and sadness. Taylor, thank you for calling everyone out on their bull and giving up people who are crappy. Finally, Drake, I'd like to thank you for 'Thank Me Later' for rapping so loud and slow in my ears that I can't remember anything else except that I want to be successful and at 23 and single it's okay that success is all that matters.

..Now eat your vegetables!"

Sunday, November 7, 2010


If the purpose of reading my blog is to stay updated and have a little laugh while maintaining the illusion that my life is perfect fairy tale with charming men and weekly shopping sprees, go ahead and go back to your facebook stalking. It's time to get real.

Pain is an interesting frame of mind. It rears it's ugly head in the most unfortunate of times. It takes everything it can from you. It intensifies every emotion. Pain makes it so a broken nail feels like a broken heart and a broken heart feels like an amputation. It is disabling. It moves in and abducts regular sleep and normalcy and makes a fake smile difficult to construct.

Joy, on the other hand, comes exactly when it is supposed to. Surprising, sometimes, to feel joy with pain. Like turning on a light in a dark room, the darkness has no choice but to evacuate.

I know exactly the source of my joy; spending time with my family and other people I love, the Gospel of Jesus Christ, knowing that someone wiser than me cares about me, my great job, seeing my friends happy, and the fact that the sun sets over Town Lake every evening at the same time right when I need something consistent.

At the same time, I know the source of my pain. And the control I used to maintain in life has been taken with so many other things leaving me wandering around in the dark frantically searching for a switch that will let the light in.