Even Better than the Flight

Airport travel just keeps getting better. I remember when we had to remember the actual paper plane ticket in order to get on the flight, in addition to a passport/ID. Now, with e-tickets and self check in, I just have to bring a major credit card and I.D. If I didn't check in any bags (ha ha), I could print out a boarding pass from home and go directly to the gate.

As far as stricter security measures, I have recently discovered the wonderful world of TSA approved locks. Plus, modern security procedures make taking off the bling and my shoes easy and quick. Restricting the gates to passengers only isn't actually a bad thing either because the extra time I save before I get to the gate allows more time to do my favorite airport activities (much more fun done alone):

• Walk around and spend money that I didn't need to spend
• Walk around and not spend money that I really do want to spend
• Sit in the waiting area and do some unintentional eavesdropping

I'm Dreaming of a.....

...bright, sunny Christmas.

Crazy? Not for me. I spent my earliest Christmases in Canada and Colorado where Christmases were white. I can't say that I miss it. I love a Christmas like today's in Houston, TX. I woke up to the sunlight streaming into the guest room where I was sleeping. We spent time outside without coats and boots and took pictures in the backyard with the neighbor's palm trees in the backdrop.

Picture perfect...

Happy Holidays!!

Every Girl Should....

I have a list of these things, but my latest one is this:

Every girl should get asked out by her high school crush 11 years later.

Especially if her high school crush was smart, cute, played football and violin and was always dating his perfect cheerleader girlfriend who was also smart, cute and played the violin (and was so genuinely nice that you couldn't hate her).

Sober Drunk

Recently, after a company holiday party, my female coworker was teased (until she started feeling a little insecure about it) for having a little too much wine. In my opinion, she acted no crazier than I did and I wasn't drinking. She helped me in a performance of Devil Goes Down to Georgia and afterwards, I tried to get everyone else to join in as I sang and danced like a rock star. She was the only one who followed my lead and we had a great time. But nobody was giving me a hard time. So I finally asked why everyone was making such a big deal about her and if anyone really thought she was acting any crazier than I was. The answer is apparently that everyone expects me to act like that. Sober. Hmmmmm.... Does that mean that I should be embarassed more often? I'd like to think that I'm just relaxed and uninhibited enough to have a good time and not feel I have to apologize for it and blame it on the alcohol afterward. I'm going to go with that answer.

My Old Friend

I miss running. I started running during my freshman year in college and it was the ultimate outlet for stress and negativity and a time to sort through my ideas. Plus, it made me feel good and discover for myself that "runner's high" is not a myth. Eventually, my knees gave in and I haven't really run since a 5K in 2002. Last week, it was below freezing and to keep warm when I had to go out into the warehouse at work, I decided to run laps around the 32,000 ft plus warehouse. It was sort of a joke at first and I got the expected giggles from the warehouse staff, but I didn't expect the nostalgia. Don't get me wrong, I love my workouts at the gym, but there's just something about running that can't compare. So I ran until I warmed up and until my knees reminded me of why I stopped.

It was a nice visit with an old friend.

Battle Scars of the Violinist

I haven't really played the violin for extensive periods of time for several years until last week. I put together a performance for a party last Saturday and spent 2-3 hours a night (nothing compared to what I used to put in), trying to get back in shape. Being away from that life for so long, I'd forgotten what pride I'd taken in the callouses on my finger tips and the "hickey" on my neck. They were literally a physical manifestation of my dedication to my art. Before anyone starts being impressed, I must say that I do NOT feel this way anymore. I prayed that my fingers would stay callous free as I cringed through the pain and every night, I stared at the ugly red mark on my neck in despair. Could this possibly be the same girl from years ago who loved her battle scars?

But when Saturday night rolled around, I realized that one thing remains the same. I still looooove to perform! Misshapen fingertips and ugly red marks be damned.