Last week, I flew by myself for the first time. It wasn't hard, or scary. It was easy. Even with my...directional challenges, I found my gates just fine. Airports can be very colorful places, I decided (and not always in a good way). But most of them have Starbucks. That makes everything better.
This is a rather sad-looking blueberry muffin that I ate at the airport. I had lots of time before I had to be at my first gate, so I bought a muffin and a vitamin water. I sat alone at a high grey table by a window where I could watch planes taxiing in and out of the airport. There were other people sitting near me...a haggard-looking businessman rubbing his eyes. An Italian man having an animated conversation on the phone. A man in a lavender dress shirt eating a piece of pizza with very stretchy cheese. And cheese Doritos. I thought that was a very interesting combination.
This is Milo. He doesn't really have anything to do with the rest of this post. But he likes to crash in my bed on mornings when I don't have to get up early. He only looks angelic when he's sleeping. Like most of us, I suppose.
Last week, I inhaled an enormous amount of pollen. It was everywhere, dusting the vehicles, clinging to my shoes, swirling through the air. Yellow fog. I wonder if it will have any side effects. Like maybe flowers sprouting out of my ears. I'll keep you posted.
Last week, I made soap for the first time. It's really quite simple, but I was proud of myself. I melted down, scented, dyed, and poured soap...over and over and over. I was on a roll. I was becoming a professional soapmaker. That is, until I inadvertently slopped bright blue soap over some beautiful pink rose bars that were already in the mold. That was not good.
Last week, I rode the biggest, baddest roller coasters I've ever ridden in my life. All the ones I'd ridden before then were positively dwarfed in comparison. On the first ride, I though for sure I was going to die. I screamed my head off the entire time. Well, not quite the entire time because there was a couple intervals where I literally could not breathe. That was new. At the end of each ride, I sat still and panted. My hair was blown all over the place and my eyes were probably popping out of my head. Then I would gasp, That was great. And it was. It really was.
Back to flying. I love flying. I could do it all day. I love looking out the window, at the stunning cloud patterns, the tiny houses and cars. The only downside that I was had to be squished next to a perfect stranger for several hours. That is not the most fun thing. Especially when your companion is a young guy who won't look at you, and only talks when he accidentally touches your leg. Sorry (accompanied by a horrified look). Poor thing. I must be really, really scary. I was even reading The Princess Bride.
Oh, and I finally tried Ramen noodles. I've always wanted to. That has nothing to do with the flower picture, but that's okay. Sometimes, I have fleeting visions of myself, ten years from now. I'm an old maid, living in an apartment with my cat, and lots of pencils and notebooks. I eat Ramen noodles every night for dinner and I am an Unclaimed Treasure (anyone get the Sarah, Plain and Tall reference?). Then, I shake my head. I would definitely get tired of Ramen noodles.