Happy 2013, y’all. Not sure if I’m allowed to say y’all, as I am from the Mitten instead of the South, but whatever. I have friends who live in the South. IT COUNTS.
As it is officially my first blog post in 2013, this year marks a few milestones:
1. We survived The End of the World. Kudos.
2. We also survived the news that Kim Kardashian and Kanye West are having a baby. Double kudos. With a side of ass and autotune. Respectfully.
3. It is FebruAny Sub month at Subway. Helllllo, $5 Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki sub. Goodbye, Hot Makeout Session. Sorry ‘bout my breath.
4. I quit Facebook.
5. A lot of new people were made and born this past year. Which is funny to phrase, if you really think about it…New people were made. As if they are pancakes or pottery. And then there’s the whole mind-blowing notion that one second, a baby is inside a person, and the next, they are outside in the world. Like, BOOM goes the dynamite baby.
6. Number Six Milestone…..Hm.
7. Um…*looks up at ceiling*
8. …..Well. *thinks*
9. OK, there are many other milestones, but I started this post back in January and cannot remember my train of thought. So I am ending on Odd Number 9. Sorry.
Note: If you want to share a 2012/2013 milestone, leave a comment down below, and I will add your milestone to this list. As long as you keep it appropriate, kids. Keep it appropriate.
And what have I been up to? Along with living life, eating too much ketchup on too many things and being awkward ALL. THE. TIME, I also have been traveling quite a bit. And what this Communication Major (i.e., I am a creeper on people and watch how they act and communicate and react to people-stuff) has found is that the airport is a total hot spot for people watching. Not like that was a big secret, as the airport attracts all walks of life (including germs and viruses and bacteria that cause me to get REALLY SICK ON CHRISTMAS. Ugh), but still….I saw a lot of interesting travel-goers.
Like the cute five and six-year-olds with their bright, cartoon-covered sparkly rolling suitcases. You can tell they look so proud and feel Very Grown-Up , half-running to keep up with their parents. Their kid-swagger just screams, “Look at me. I have a SUITCASE. I’m like all of you Big People.” I love it.
Or Running Late Guy. While waiting in line to get a magazine, I heard him panting before I saw him--Sprinting down the main aisle of the airport, a black luggage bag in one hand, his tie flapping behind him, clearly late for his flight. Or, if you are a romantic type, we could go with the idea that he was sprinting to get to his best friend and confess his love before the plane leaves the gate, taking the opportunity of Lifelong Love and Happiness with it (does that really happen in real life??). Either way, Running Late Guy was running. Fast. I heard a collective sigh of sympathy from my fellow customers as we watched Running Late Guy go by. I looked at back at the woman in line behind me, who raised her eyebrows and shook her head, as if to nonverbally say exactly what I was thinking: “That’s gotta suck.”
There was also T-Shirt Guy. A big, broad-shouldered man that looked about my age, he was standing near the window, laughing loudly on his cell phone. As the guy stood up, I noticed the front of his white T-Shirt featured a digitally scanned picture of a man grinning from ear to ear. Under the picture, in bold, black font read: “RIP BEAR.” When T-Shirt guy turned around, the shirt’s back featured several other pictures of Bear and the phrase “HIBERNATING WITH JESUS.” I couldn’t help but think that was sad and clever at the same time.
I myself had a few awkward encounters at the airport, but not with people. With things. I learned it takes mad skill to time your walking pace just right so you don’t bif it when you get off those fast-moving sidewalky things. I also learned this is a skill I do not have. And thank you, robotic voice that kept telling me OVER and OVER to “Please watch your step as you exit the walkway.” I DID WATCH MY STEP. It didn’t help.
Also—the toilets at the airport flush for, like, ever. And without warning. I wouldn’t even be sitting down yet and it would be all “Whooosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.”And it wouldn’t stop. I was just standing there, looking at the toilet water flushing and flushing and flushing. When it finally stopped whooshing, I wanted to say to the toilet, “You finished?”
So all, in all, here’s to 2013 and it’s many milestones and adventures. I plan on posting more often, so, to end this post exactly where we started—a Midwestern girl using Southern phrases—y’all come back now, ya hear?