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?
