And... I actually had fun. I didn't really do anything, but I think it was the freedom, independence and sense of adventure that I enjoyed. I censor myself drastically in this blog, mostly because no one really wants to hear the thoughts that are going through my head - some just couldn't deal with the things I want to say to them. Anyways, I am emotionally, mentally and physically drained lately. Tapped out. This business trip was much needed time away... time not spent with my everyday stresses; without the constant reminder of how ill prepared I was to start over; without the constant reminder that I am light years away from where I need to and wanted to be right now; without the constant reminder that I am a shit person... when you get right down to it [you know who are... and I know I am].
Anyway... my mind wanders. Constantly. I already have my next three posts mapped out in my head... I need a clerk who can just type that shit as it comes... sometimes I have brilliant ideas and the most profound wording... and then poof! Another thought... and it's gone. Ok... I digress... [and have proven my point] As I was saying - my mind wanders and while I was waiting in the airport - forever[!!!!], I had a chance to put some of those thoughts down... they're nothing prophetic or poetic.... but they kept me entertained.
[Thursday, Sept 11] - People wear the most fucked up things in airports. Velour, tie-dye, floral patterns for every part of the body [oy vey] and is it... why yes it is... gold lame'. Golly gee, how pretty. I would love to see Stacey & Clinton tear this place apart... or Jerry Seinfeld's opinion on the fashion must for the airport... the skort. 'What's the deal with the skort, anyways? Is it shorts or a skirt? Shorts? Skirt? Are your commitment issues so deep that you feel the need to even compromise with your clothing?'... ok. I'm rambling now... ooo. Starbucks. Lately, I've been craving Pumpkin Spice Latte's. Damn you... you person... and your influential ways.
[A few minutes later...] - Hands down worse than the clothing in the airports is the unidentifiable smells. Random nasal offenses so strong you would swear you were eating them. Perfume, lotions, sweat... hey. That dude smells like weed. [following him....]
Just kidding.
[boarding the plane... 3 hours later] - I have just spent the last hour surround by a hormonally challenged sports team sponsored by PF Changs... all 16 year old boys. I am pretty sure the one they call Tommy didn't take his eyes off my rack the entire time we spent together. Geesh! Can you believe the nerve? [It's just a front... stare on little ones.] Seriously, though... 16? That would be my luck... Damn you PF and your tasty chicken lettuce wraps. I can think of nothing else now...
[on the plane to Springfield, MO] - Hmmm... silence. Not even my head is busy. Just silence... awkward silence. Click.Click.Click. Only the nervous sound of my pen is audible. Shit... I think I made that guy mad. He just gave me the dirtiest look. I hate people who sport their fake Coach as if they really dropped $300 on the real one. We know it's fake, honey. You can embrace it, own it... but you sure as shit didn't pay for it. Floral ballet flats... are you kidding me? Looks like you skined my grandmothers sofa and barbarically wrapped the skin around your feet.... nice. The voices are back... or is it Bach? I can't place that tune... but I am sure it's Bach.
Anyway... my mind wanders. Constantly. I already have my next three posts mapped out in my head... I need a clerk who can just type that shit as it comes... sometimes I have brilliant ideas and the most profound wording... and then poof! Another thought... and it's gone. Ok... I digress... [and have proven my point] As I was saying - my mind wanders and while I was waiting in the airport - forever[!!!!], I had a chance to put some of those thoughts down... they're nothing prophetic or poetic.... but they kept me entertained.
[Thursday, Sept 11] - People wear the most fucked up things in airports. Velour, tie-dye, floral patterns for every part of the body [oy vey] and is it... why yes it is... gold lame'. Golly gee, how pretty. I would love to see Stacey & Clinton tear this place apart... or Jerry Seinfeld's opinion on the fashion must for the airport... the skort. 'What's the deal with the skort, anyways? Is it shorts or a skirt? Shorts? Skirt? Are your commitment issues so deep that you feel the need to even compromise with your clothing?'... ok. I'm rambling now... ooo. Starbucks. Lately, I've been craving Pumpkin Spice Latte's. Damn you... you person... and your influential ways.
[A few minutes later...] - Hands down worse than the clothing in the airports is the unidentifiable smells. Random nasal offenses so strong you would swear you were eating them. Perfume, lotions, sweat... hey. That dude smells like weed. [following him....]
Just kidding.
[boarding the plane... 3 hours later] - I have just spent the last hour surround by a hormonally challenged sports team sponsored by PF Changs... all 16 year old boys. I am pretty sure the one they call Tommy didn't take his eyes off my rack the entire time we spent together. Geesh! Can you believe the nerve? [It's just a front... stare on little ones.] Seriously, though... 16? That would be my luck... Damn you PF and your tasty chicken lettuce wraps. I can think of nothing else now...
[on the plane to Springfield, MO] - Hmmm... silence. Not even my head is busy. Just silence... awkward silence. Click.Click.Click. Only the nervous sound of my pen is audible. Shit... I think I made that guy mad. He just gave me the dirtiest look. I hate people who sport their fake Coach as if they really dropped $300 on the real one. We know it's fake, honey. You can embrace it, own it... but you sure as shit didn't pay for it. Floral ballet flats... are you kidding me? Looks like you skined my grandmothers sofa and barbarically wrapped the skin around your feet.... nice. The voices are back... or is it Bach? I can't place that tune... but I am sure it's Bach.
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