Aboard, my face is swollen from the purge of stress, lack of sleep, and tears of good-bye. Everything is carefully bestowed, and my seatbelt tightly fastened, four hours, and I'm blasting Switchfoot as a nice introduction to my new home. The sky was fascinating. I see the overwhelming population, and correlate the reality that the majority of this town is buzzing to the exact destination as me: point A to point dream. Traffic, and a purple hue nicely compliments my immediate reminiscing, and makes fact from my prophetic thoughts on how much I will miss home.. that bright blue sky, and one lane high way.
Stale air, and a curious foreign couple squeezing into my window seat to preview the new land, we scope, point, and try to communicate English versus foreign language, hoping one of our words will click with the others' education; that led us nowhere, and left me dissatisfied with my education. I wish I was that bilingual gal -- only my super power would be that I would be able to morph my vocabulary to the appropriate language. This reminds me, note to self, learn sign language. And Japanese. Maybe French, too. Definitely French.
We point to the topography, and then the smog, and I say "smoggy" and receive a nod. Not sure if that nod was an even exchange of I understand or just simply the cordial way of acknowledgment in their culture to said phrase. Acknodledge..ehha.
Wheels extend, and here comes the this-is-frickin-scary-no-it's-not-I-love-this-part descend called landing. Good pilot, and exhale. I land with the specific thought of: I'm ready. Seatbelt signs off, and it is now safe to use our handheld devices, so I text my thoughts to validate to my friends, I am here, I am safe, I am ready. I began to pray for open doors of opportunity...and not to sound like I'm foreshadowing (although I completely am), we begin to get up and out arriving in less time than expected...but uh-oh...the plane doors will not open. Here I am, ready for destiny, ready to take on this new adventure, eager to run through the doors...and they are shut. I could not help but laugh. The list of obstacles I've gone through to get here, the incorrect equations for my being here right now was just increased and all I could think was: ARE U KIDDING ME?! I asked myself, with a smile of course, hoping to never adopt that sour-faced complainer look. I've landed, and the doors are shut. Optimism arose and I allowed this obstacle to be a milestone in my journey...when the doors are shut, believe that another will be opened! Sure enough, the scare was settled and the polite apologetic pilot pleaded for our patience which almost translated to a plea that we would not call the airlines and complain on his behalf. Maybe I am bilingual: I speak English and I interpret underlying tones. Oo yes, I quite like that. Expository writing is my favorite. I want to say I enjoy dissecting things, but dissect is a trigger word that trans-locates me to 10th grade where I sliced open a pig. Non-sequitor. Actually, very sequitor; how quickly we are ashamed of our train of thoughts. I quite like trains.
And to think about our thoughts, I have been fascinated recently with our memories. I would never want to lose mine. Or maybe I would for a day; perhaps that is why I enjoy acting. My memories are gone and I am a full embodiment of empty memories left to my imagination to create. I am responsible to see what's not there, to create and relate to this person I call me in this scene. There's much to learn, much to discover, and now as I try and come full circle with this stream of consciousness, tie the ends up with a phrase to encompass what I mean, I'll leave it here with this: I'm here. I'm ready. Open the door!
