Planes, trains and an explicative.

So I leave my apartment this morning later than I should have in order to get to the airport to fly home. A small part of me (99%) hopes I miss my flight so I can be with Justin over this Thanksgiving holiday while the other part is hoping I make it on time. I get to the airport with about 65 minutes to get park, walk to airport, get through security, get a coffee and muffin, and go to gate. I manage to do all of those things at quite a leisurely pace in under 23 minutes. Where am I? The airport is never this empty. Thank you failing economy for keeping people off the airplanes. Thank you parents for buying my ticket.

I go to Starbucks and the lady behind the counter ringing everyone up proceeds to question, incessantly, where everyone is headed off to. I debate for a few minutes whether or not to tell the truth.

Anyway, I decide I’ll play it by ear. If she’s efficient, I’ll tell the truth and consider it a token of appreciation for her. If she’s moving slow this morning I will lie.

Starbucks lady: “So where you headed off to today?”

Me: Internally I say, “None-ya. . . None-ya business” but audibly I say, “Chicago.”

Starbucks lady: “OH! I have a friend in Elgin.”

Me: Internally, “I don’t care” but audibly I say, “Get outta here. . .”

Starbucks lady: “YEAH! What do you say I tag along with you and we can go to Elgin to visit my friend”

Me: Internally, “I knew you were a tiny bit crazy” and “NO” but audibly I say, “Yeah, but only if you give me free coffee for life.”

Starbucks lady: “I could do that, maybe we’ll give some to the pilot”

Me: Internally, “I’m done with this conversation” but audibly, “I guess we could do that” while I begin to walk down to the ‘pick-up area’.

Starbucks lady: “See you on board”, she yells.

Me: “You’re embarrassing me!!!” I yell back (in my head).

I smile, get my coffee, and take extra long strides to remove myself as quickly as I can from crazy lady.

I walk back towards my gate and a young girl, I’d say 21 years old or so, looks panicked walking towards me. I figure she’s lost and keep my eyes on her in case she has a question. She sees me and beelines straight at me.

Panicked girl: “Excuse me?!” she cries out.

Me: “Yeah?” I reply, hoping that I can help her!

Panicked girl: “Where is the starbucks!?!?!” she says, as I notice that tear drops may have been forming in her eyes.

“Oh! Haha, keep going. It’s about a three minute walk and then it’s on your right.” I contemplate warning her about crazy lady but then I think to myself, “Nah. . . everyone needs to experience someone like the starbucks lady every once in awhile”. Maybe she has a blog too and she wants to write about something.

I get to the gate area and I sit down in the terminal next to mine. I like to do that in order to scope out whom is on my flight, in other words—who to avoid when choosing my seat. Also, it allows other people to form their own questions about me like, “I wonder if she is from Philadelphia?!”, and I get to provide answers when I get up to board the other plane.

I’m thoroughly enjoying my muffin, listening to the girl two seats down from me break into song about every 10 minutes. She’s singing, “Sometimes you maaake me smiiiile”. It sounds like R&B. If I had known the song I would have been inclined to finish the rest of the line for her.

I’m also quickly distracted by an interesting voice box in the row perpendicular to mine. You know the sound that happens in your throat right before you cry? That is exactly how this woman spoke. LOUDLY. I know all of her brother’s names, the fact that there is a piece of carpet at the end of the driveway that may have fallen out of a vehicle so she left it there, and that she probably owns a Nissan because she was explaining to the person on the other end of the phone that the key just had to be in her pocket when she pressed start car. What was more entertaining was reading the face of the woman sitting next to cry-voice. She looked annoyed, to say the least. I truly felt for her. I was 7 feet from cry-voice and wanted to move. . .and I would have moved if I was on the other side of her.

They begin lining up to board for Chicago. I pack up my things in the Philadelphia terminal, wondering if people are thinking, “This inexperienced traveler! Ha! She thinks we are getting ready to board but instead it’s the Chicago gate that is boarding.” Then, when I waltz over to the Chicago line with my Chicago boarding pass, I hope they think to themselves “Oh.”

I’m standing in line right behind a young couple with a child. I’m so glad that I’m behind them because I will let them choose their seats and I will proceed to sit as far away as possible from them.

I overhear their conversation.

Wife: Honey. Oh my gosh. I didn’t tell you.

Husband: (says nothing, looks at her with eyebrows raised forcing a look of interest on his face)

Wife: When I put on my winter coat the other day I found like 25 pens and 1,000 tissues in the pockets.

Husband: (staring) Oh wow. Crazy.

I laugh to myself and think, “What does this woman DO that would make 25 pens and 1,000 tissues end up in her pocket?!?!”

I know she was exaggerating. But I had to laugh at the extent of the exaggeration and why she felt the need to exaggerate about pens and tissues.

We board the plane, and they sit in row 12. I’m in row 26. And after we reach 10,000 feet I pull out my laptop and begin to comunikate about my Thanksgiving travels.

Don't not do, Do.

Justin and I had lunch together today and we were chatting about things that certain people take stances on. For instance, they won't shop at a certain place because it is affiliated with something they do not agree with. First of all, I think it is important to take stances on things that you do not agree with. But what is more important than a stance is actually doing something about it. Instead of avoiding a store or company because they don't give to a foundation that you support, support the foundation or charity yourself. Don't wait for other people to do it for you. Yes, you have time. 

Here are some ideas: www.compassion.com, www.worldvision.org, www.salvationarmyusa.org, or just go to www.charitynavigator.org

*There is nothing stronger than the heart of a volunteer*

The difference between college students.

One of the more interesting experiences in college has been interacting with students that make me wonder, "why are you here"?

For the most part, I do not chit-chat with my fellow classmates. I like it that way. I can listen to the prof, take notes, and then leave campus without being distracted. Given that the majority of my time spent on school work is what is done IN class, not being chatty kathy keeps me on track. Put me behind the chair at the salon. . . whole different story. Maybe it is a comfort issue? A confidence issue? Who knows.

Anyway, I have exhausted myself attempting to understand some students. It's sad, to be honest, to see students that make no effort to do well. They probably think that they can't do well. Maybe their parents told them that they couldn't do well. . .I don't know. But if they don't attempt to do well, they shouldn't be in college. It's a waste of time and money. I'd rather see them finding a job doing something they enjoy (which CAN BE DONE without a college degree) instead of bothering the students in class that do actually try and learn. Furthermore, I think we should adopt the European view of taking a year or so off after high school in order to "find oneself". THEN, after you have figured out a little bit more about yourself and your interests. . . go to college somewhere and pursue that. Shoving 18 year olds into a university is ridiculous. 

Story: I was sitting in class one day, taking copious notes and keeping my eye on the guy sitting next to me dead asleep. He came to class in sweatpants, a huge sweatshirt, and a winter cap trying  to keep his dread locks contained. He didn't bring a bag, a pencil, or a willingness to learn. He just showed up to sleep. "why?" I wondered. There isn't even an attendance policy in this class! Why would he not just stay home to sleep? 

About 10 minutes pass, the professor's tone begins to lull others to sleep. I begin to hear some extremely faint talking or mumbling. I glance to my right, nothing. I turn my ear to listen to what is going on behind me, nothing. And then. . .I look to my right and I see The Sleeper rapping to himself. He is sort of moving his body as if dancing-but isn't moving more than a centimeter. His fingers are following the beat of his rap. I'm watching him to try and determine whether he is awake or whether this was probably a symptom of being at the club late last night with the rap still echoing in your head. Needless to say, eventually he forces himself to get up at about 9:45a: 5 minutes before class ends. With a deafening yawn, he rudely interrupts the professor. Students turn around, laugh and nod their heads, and we all think. . . "yeah. . . figures". 

Inspiration

My friend, and client, Meredith, has inspired me.

I like reading blogs, so now I will have my very own.

I'm starting this during the 1/2 way point of my engagement to Justin. It will be comical, I think, for you all to watch (and by watch I mean read) the progression of events towards the wedding. Maybe I'll get a book deal.

Speaking of books, I have a confession: I have ALWAYS wanted to write a book about the different uses of bobby pins. I thought it would be both comical and practical: two things that I pride myself on being already. It would be a picture book with small blurb about that certain function. I'm going to do it. Probably only 100 pages would be necessary. As soon as I find an artist who can turn a bobby pin into a cute character with a face and feelings--I'll do it. 

Besides by aspirations to become a famed author, I aspire to graduate this December. Right now, it looks like that will happen! There are a few weeks left still, and one never knows what is in store...

I'm already having post-college depression. What will I fill my time with? And I use the term "time" loosely. I don't have much now... but what little I do have I use up VERY quickly. Maybe I could spend my time writing letters to all the professors who annoyed me terribly throughout my semesters... maybe send a couple to registrar...or the cashiers office?!? 

I don't think I have room in this post to expel my experiences in college...but I will spend time doing that on another post! :)