10 Things I Do Not Want To Do Before 6 am

1) Get out of bed.
2) Get in a cab with a cab driver that dips and dodges imaginary cars on the interstate at 4 am.
3) Pay $40 for a seven minute cab ride.
4) Take my shoes off for inspection.
5) Listen to woman talk about how her bag was "13.4 net pounds" over weight. Not why, just how. All the way to our gate.
6) Listen to CNN talk about government shutdown. Isn't there some kind of "Soothing Airport Sleeping Music" channel we could be listening to instead?
7) Listen to a woman talk on her phone about how she wants to save her phone battery.
8) Listen to anyone talk.
9) Miss Beardy. It's too early to be sad.
10) Drift in between sleeping on my backpack\pillow and excitement of seeing my family today. I'm supposed to be snuggling under a warm blanket right now.

Synopsis: Flights before 6 am are stupid.

A Side Thought

There is a big rock in the backyard of my parent's home.  My last summer living there, I went to the local nursery and picked out all the flowers that I thought were beautiful (and that I could afford).  I surrounded the rock with dahlias, lilies, some purple spidery thing, foxgloves and mums.  The outside is lined by yellow and red knockout roses. 

The rock is just in the right place where is it completely covered by sun most of the day except at noon, when it is the hottest.  Sometimes, when I get really down or stressed out, I take myself out of the snow, the busy street, a honking cab, and put myself on that rock.  I don't have any shoes on because you just don't do that in the South.  I stretch my arms and legs as far they'll go, letting the sun warm every piece of me it can get to.  And then I do nothing.  I lay there, and I smile, and I drink in the warmth and the flowers and the stillness of it all.

Nobody (s)knows the trouble I’ve seen…

Once upon a time, I lived at the beach. It was wonderful; warm almost every day, taking rides with the windows down on a Thursday afternoon in October. I loved it. Then I decided to move to Boston, thinking I had become too complacent in my safe little hideaway of a city, and that I needed adventure. So I took a giant leap of faith and landed in this beautiful city full of hipsters, business people, intelligentsia, hobos and other wonderful, interesting people. And there were cool historical buildings, great walks down Boylston and Beacon, and lazily sitting at the waterfront basking in the glorious sun. And I loved it here too.

Then it snowed for 3 months.

I think I died a little inside this winter. And I’m also blaming my lack of blogging on my deficiency of Vitamin D. I am like a solar panel of creativity. That being said, the sun was out all weekend, and I once again basked in it, therefore giving me enough creative flow to start having adventures again (and telling you about my first REAL winter).