There is no clock
90 feet between bases is genius
There are secret signs
Hanging curveballs are sexy
Numbers are magic: 755, 56, 7, 61, 1.12
Tinker to Evers to Chance
Ivy at Wrigley
The Green Monster
The suicide squeeze
Cracker Jack
Walt Whitman liked it
Jackie Robinson and Pee-Wee Reese
It just feels American
The seventh-inning stretch
Superstition
Guys in tight pants
Bull Durham
Centerfield
There’s no crying in baseball
Cooperstown
A great play at the plate
Chatter
Pepper
High socks
Tradition
Spring training
Keeping score
The rubber game
The infield fly rule
162 chances
It's really pathetic when you decide to write a blog post only because what you wanted to share is too long for a Facebook status. But since I'm not above being pathetic, here we are.
A few things about Alex:
He's been picking up Starbucks lingo but isn't sure how to use it. Tonight he requested a 19-shot lemon pound cake.
When I pulled in the driveway and grumbled that that I had a lot of things to carry into the house, he picked up his little bag of the aforementioned pound cake and said, "Don't worry, I'll carry my cake!" Gee, thanks. ;)
We had a lovely evening playing Mario Kart (ending in a rare tie!) and watching 2 episodes of Jeopardy, his new favorite thing.
He decided he wanted to make a "TB" (he says that means "temporary bed") on the couch and asked if I'd leave the TV on the 80's Music Choice channel. <3
His first few days of school have gone very well. He called to report he had a good day today, except for one bad thing. When I asked what that was, he said, "Well, let me just tell you the good things first." The kid understands positioning. (And it turns out the bad thing was the dreaded fire drill.)
I leave today for my 4th TED Conference. It's hard to believe it's already here, especially since I was accepted for 2011 while I was still at 2010 (and I'm already in for 2012). Usually I am counting the days furiously, reading the TED Book Club offerings and generally champing at the bit to get there and experience it. This year has been very different, though. I've had so much going on in my life that is changing, new, and exciting that I've barely given TED a thought since the new year. And so today, 6 hours away from my flight, I am feeling completely unprepared. How is that even possible??? Not think and obsess about TED?? Blasphemy! But it's true...and I don't feel one bit guilty about it. So fellow TEDsters, if I seem in a haze on Monday or Tuesday or if I haven't intently studied my top 10 people to meet, it's because real life has had the audacity to intrude, and now that I think about it, that is exactly how it should be. TED may be the most intellectually stimulating week of the year, but it's a week. That doesn't mean I love it less or value the experience less--it's still mind-blowing and I am excited. It's just been put in its proper place in orbit in a life that is much happier and on track for great things.
(And while this post is about TED, I could say this for a number of things in my life. There are all sorts of experiences that have served to fill the void in my life left by years of unhappy marriage; TED is just one. I no longer feel like I'm escaping to these things, and while I'm not obsessing about TED, I am looking forward to experiencing it from this new perspective as a me that isn't necessarily new, but maybe just newly uncovered, having been hidden away for far too long.)
Billy Collins says it best in "The Trouble With Poetry"...
Poetry fills me with joy and I rise like a feather in the wind. Poetry fills me with sorrow and I sink like a chain flung from a bridge.
.........
But mostly poetry fills me with the urge to write poetry, to sit in the dark and wait for a little flame to appear at the tip of my pencil.
I make no claims to being a great poet, or even a particularly good one. But I have enough of the urge in me and enough time putting pencil to paper (or these days, fingertips to keyboard) that I do consider myself a poet. I've written things that others have been moved by...and that I have moved myself to a new place with. And I figure that is cause enough to think of myself as a poet.
But look...I'm procrastinating, and avoiding procrastination was the whole point of this post. I haven't written any poetry in well over a year. And the last thing I wrote was pretty darned good, but somber, deeply personal, and directly related to the turmoil I was in and am now free of. I've been feeling pulses of poems for a few weeks now, but lying in bed (not sleeping, of course) in my hotel in Singapore, I finally felt the urge--real, deep, unstoppable. It was finally right there for me to let out, after such a long and sad hiatus.
So on the flight home, I wrote and wrote and wrote. A long journal entry, some bits of poems, letters to be sent or silently held back. I was as rusty as Billy's old chain flung from a bridge. But I kept at it, and in the middle of the writing and the middle of the night, this came to me. I barely paused as I typed, it was so fully formed coming out of me. It could certainly be improved, but something about how it was born makes me want to leave it just as it is. This was, of course, inspired by my week at the beach and the decisions I made there that have made all the difference. But I know the longer I wait, the less likely I am to post it. So here goes nothing...
Starry Night
Alone for a moment Only the steady shush of the ocean, The chill of the winter beach, The inconsequential discomfort Of the wooden walkway Beneath me as I stretched out Underneath a blanket of stars, Thick and luxurious.
Too seldom in this life Have I seen a sky like that. It’s always been there, As obscured by haze As my own path had been Until now.
But no more. Tonight was clear In every way, And for a moment I laid back, Allowing this beautiful world To become a metaphor Of my life, Stars not just stars, but Every one a reflection of Possibility, Of new hope, Visible and bright At last.
18 February 2011 Composed over the northern Pacific at 37,000 feet
I don't really have jet lag, but my blog seems to be suffering from it something terrible! ;)
It's been a mostly quiet re-entry from Singapore. Alex as thrilled to see me as I was him. I ended up sleeping on and off until 3:15pm on Saturday--probably too long, but I slept so little in Singapore that my body desperately needed it. Then Alex and I spent the rest of the day together: Hallmark Store, post office, dinner, even a movie. ("Gnomeo and Juliet" which was nothing to write home about...AND confirmed that I've become a complete romantic sap because even a terrible story of star-crossed gnomes made me tear up.) Then at home he curled up with his head on my lap and we talked until he fell asleep. A perfectly lovely day.
Today was...not so lovely. I woke up with a mild headache (which I still have) and the usual separated-but-living-together tension was particularly high. Joe announced that despite not having moved the heavy furniture, he was going to start sleeping at his apartment this week. Later in the day that morphed to "tonight." I was ecstatic. Over the moon. I've been longing for peace and a break from the tension...for beginning to get to know my house as mine. You know in "When Harry Met Sally" when Harry runs all the way to the party to tell Sally he loves her and says that "When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to begin as soon as possible." (Or something like that...if I didn't have a headache, I'd look it up, but it's close enough, I assure you.) That's how I've felt...I want the rest of my life to begin and I feel like these last few weeks of co-existing have been a strange limbo. Don't get me wrong, I'm not standing still - I'm moving on in many ways and the future looks very bright, I know. But home has been a constant roller coaster.
Fast forward to tonight. Joe gathered up some things, kissed Alex good night and left at about 9:30. I could have moonwalked across the kitchen, I was so happy. (Well, I couldn't have because I still haven't fully taught myself how to moonwalk, but I'm getting there.) Quiet, calm, no walking on eggshells, no whispering on the phone. Just me and my boy.
My boy...he played Xbox for a little while (Battlestations: Pacific) and then when I told him it was time to go to bed, it all went downhill. He didn't want to go to bed, but I gently encouraged him so that he could stay on a regular sleep schedule and not be off-kilter when school starts back next week. He acquiesced and went to his room, only to return to the living room a few minutes later, dragging a pillow and his bean bag down the stairs with him. I started to say, "Sweet boy, you need to sleep in your bed," but before I could get the words out, I saw the tears in his eyes. He was missing his daddy, of course.
Now, I am 100% certain I have made the right decision, and it's right not just for me, but for Alex. But all the certainty and rationality in the world can't guard against the stabby feeling I get in my heart when I see my little boy hurting. I held him and snuggled and helped him build a comfortable little nest since that seemed to help him feel better. He wondered what Joe was doing, so I got the phone and helped him call (he doesn't quite know Joe's cell number by heart). And then I sat with him and rubbed his back until he fell asleep.
Luckily I'm pretty good at holding it together when I know Alex needs me to be strong. And somehow I manage to do it just long enough, and not a second longer. When I was sure he was asleep, it was like (forgive me, cliche monitors) a dam breaking. Just seeing tears in those little green eyes, the oh-so-slight quiver of that little chin was certainly more than enough to set me off. But even worse was knowing how gleeful I was about the very thing that was a source of pain for my child. Maybe because he's been so darned resilient these last few weeks I didn't know what to expect.
Looking back, I don't think there was anything to do differently. I was excited for this big milestone to occur. I didn't celebrate or even make a big deal of it in front of Alex. I was pretty quiet and subdued about it, really. And it has to happen sooner or later...and it's probably better that it's sooner because it gives Alex and I this week to begin getting used to being home alone together before I go away again next week for TED. (Plus there's the little matter of Mr. "Oh, I'm not Interested in Dating" having a match.com date on Tuesday, which I really don't care about, but it is a little unseemly to be going out on a date before you've even moved out of the house. But I digress...)
The moral of this story is that there are some things in life that can't be made easy. It's at times like this where I have to just have faith in the decisions I've made and focus on what lies ahead. And I know there is so much happiness ahead. I'm strong. Alex is strong. It's just a little bit of rough weather, and I know we can handle it.
(I'd love to acknowledge a source for the illustrated quote I opened this post with, but I really have no idea. I stumbled across it on Pinterest, which is a lovely, inspiring time suck if I've ever seen one. If you want an invite, post a reply or email me at onepinkee which of course is at @gmail and don't forget the .com part.)
If you aren't familiar with 29E, it's one of the more well-known bits of customer complaints in the airline industry. Information about Complaint Zero and it's validity can be found HERE and the letter itself, complete with illustrations can be found HERE (that second one is a PDF).
One of the great things about having worked with Fred, our CEO, for so long is that we have a very easy working relationship and friendship. How that plays out is that he says and does stuff, some of it crazy, and I give him a really hard time about it. When we planned this first trip to Singapore, he had very definite ideas about the seats we should choose on the plane and pointed them out on a seat map. He and Judith (another owner in the firm), were going to sit in the center aisle and Kamen (co-worker) and I would each sit on the window sides. He said these seats were great because of the configuration. As I looked at the seat map, I had my doubts. “But…these seats are right next to the bathrooms!” How could that possibly be a good thing??
Since then, I teased, mocked and faux-complained with varying degrees of intensity. I even got Kamen in on it. “You’ll see,” Fred would say.
Well, I see. The other nice thing about our relationship is that I have no qualms whatsoever about saying those three little words. You were right. He WAS right, as he so often is. This seat is awesome. First of all, it is next to the lavatory, but the lav is configured in such a way that the entrance is 2 seat pods in front of me and faces the front of the plane, so I can’t see it. There’s also a curtain in the aisle 1 seat pod ahead, so there’s no light leakage from people going in and out. And there are 6 lavatories on the plane, so with 100 passengers, each lav gets very little traffic. Because it’s a bulkhead, there’s no seat in front of me, which gives me the extra space. Other rows have an entertainment screen, a foot well on one side so that you have a place to stretch out in flatbed mode, and a small cubby for stowing items during flight. Instead of a foot well, my seat has a fold-down bench of sorts. When I’m seated, I can rest my feet on it, and in flatbed mode, I have much more freedom to turn over and angle my body any way I want because there’s no confining foot well.
Another benefit is that I can have guests. After I woke up from my nap (2 hours of sleep – this after 7 hours of sleep at the beginning of the flight), Fred came over and sat on the bench and we talked and had a little snack together with the tray table unfolded between us. Then Judith woke up and came over and sat on the arm rest for a minute, but given how wide the seat is, I told her to just slide in next to me, so she did. So there we were, all three of us sitting and taking together in my seat pod. It was just like we were gathered around a little café table, except for the 39,000 feet in the air part.
And eventually I promise I'll blog about Singapore itself, not just the flight there. (Though I do believe that, given the length of the flight itself, 2 posts are justified. Barely.)
...I give you the longest blog post in the world. ;)
7:30am EST
It’s been 8 hours, 30 minutes since we departed Newark and this already qualifies as the longest flight of my adult life (probably my whole life - I don't know the length of the segments between the US and the Phillipines in 1972 or Guam and the US in 1974). The previous record was held by JFK-CDG, and this is already an hour over that. Amazingly, we aren’t quite half way to Singapore yet—we still have more time in the air than we’ve already spent!
As the Captain greeted us prior to pushback from gate 65, I got a big surprise. I knew the flight returning from Singapore to Newark took a “great circle” route that traveled over China, toward the North Pole and then south over Greenland to the US east coast. I expected the flight to Singapore took a similar path, but as the Captain made his announcements, I realized I was quite wrong! We instead flew east over the Atlantic, crossing over Europe. We just flew over Odessa in the Ukraine and are now heading out over the Black Sea as we angle toward the Middle East. We’ll overfly eastern Turkey, skim Armenia and Azerbaijan, cross Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and India before heading over the Indian Ocean. So yay for circumnavigation of the globe! A first for me!! (The funny thing is that in the car on the way to the airport, I said that I wish I were making one of the trips that combined visits to the client in Singapore and the UK so that I could go around the world. Little did I know.) I guess it makes sense, though—on a flight this long, you’d really want a tailwind to help. This one really pushes the range of any aircraft. (Which reminds me that I wanted to look up the actual range of this aircraft...or maybe I really don't need to know that information!)
I already feel like I’ve been traveling a long time, and that’s probably because I have been! We left home at 10:30am EST this morning in order to drive to northern NJ for an afternoon meeting with the client. That ended at 5:00 and we made the 45-minute drive to the airport and proceeded to wait…and wait for our 11:00pm departure. That puts me at about 20 hours on the road so far.
As we waited for our flight, I could feel myself getting…I wasn’t sure what it was at first. I just felt slightly agitated. As the feeling grew I realized I was anxious. What? I travel all the time, and I love it. I love everything about it, from people watching at the airport to studying the planes themselves to experiencing the wonder of a metal contraption weighing hundreds of thousands of pounds floating away from where you were and depositing you somewhere entirely different. But here I was sitting in the airline club lounge feeling my heart beat a little faster. Sometimes I get a little nervous for transoceanic flights—the idea of flying over all that really deep water gets to me. That’s perhaps my one true phobia—fear of deep water. But this was more than that. It was the time on the plane. 19 hours. Would I be able to sleep? I’m a chronically bad plane sleeper, even on cushy international flights where I have a flatbed seat. Would I get a headache from tossing and turning? What if my ears started hurting? Would I survive 19 hours with (gasp!)…no internet???
So I fidgeted and paced (in my fuzzy slippers—when it’s as overly air-conditioned as that club was, I have no shame about whatever survival tactics I have to resort to). I chit-chatted. I picked at some cheese and crackers, but in my body, anxiety and appetite are bitter enemies and when the former arrives, the latter makes a hasty, indignant retreat. I went to the newsstand and bought a paperback (Deliver Us From Evil by David Baldacci) and some snacks for the trip. I took photos of the massive jet at our gate and the distant New York skyline, the Empire State Building aglow just over the wing of the plane.
Finally, I remembered something the divorce process has taught me—when you talk about what’s going on with you, people are able to support you and cheer you on. So I talked, and ended up in a text conversation with a good friend who is only too familiar with US-to-Asia travel. It wasn’t much, just a handful of back-and-forth texts, but it reminded me of the power of feeling not just listened to but heard. In a matter of minutes I was able to uncover the connections between several threads of my life and how, in combination with the flight, they added up to this odd bundle of nerves. I was feeling silly and sheepish, but this friend’s kind words reminded me of how utterly normal my feelings were. Sometimes I don’t know what I ever did to deserve such wonderful friends. It did a lot to soothe my frayed nerves, though they weren’t completely calmed—I was still missing Alex terribly, and I was still worrying about a dear friend who was quite sick. And the flight was still 19 hours long.
So far, the only thing I've watched is the flight status channel:
Altitude 37,134 Speed 624 Distance traveled 4949 Distance to destination 4880 Time traveled 9:01 Time to destination 8:35
I have to admit that, if you’re going to fly this far, this is the way to do it. Singapore Airlines offers the only nonstop service from the New York area to Singapore and at just under 19 hours (or 17.5 hours with a really good tailwind), it is the longest single flight in operation in the world. The nonstop factor gives them a tremendous market advantage for business travelers who desperately want to minimize connections on long-haul trips. I know that sounds like a prima donna attitude, but if you’ve never done long-haul travel spending hours on a plane and crossing multiple time zones and then had to deplane and not just stay awake but be functional and conduct business, it’s hard to explain. It really does take a physical toll. But then Singapore Airlines did something to amp up their advantage. They converted several Airbus A340-500 series jets to an all-business class configuration. Instead of the typical first/business and coach class configuration which would seat about 300-330 people, this flight offers only 100 seats. But the seats are something else: Each one is 30 inches wide. To put this in perspective, I am a thin person, yes, but earlier I was sitting with my laptop on the seat between me and the armrest to my left and to my right there was still a good 5 inches of space between my hip and the armrest.
I’m in a bulkhead seat, which I usually don’t like, but in this case it is extra nice. The other seats have a foot well for stretching out when you have the seat in flatbed mode, but the bulkhead seats have a wide open area so you can stretch out any way you want. Each seat offers aisle access, so no climbing over anyone (or being climbed over) to get up and stretch.
But back to me and my anxiety…
I settled into my “pod” and shortly after takeoff I decided to curl up in my rather large seat and snooze until we reached cruising altitude and I could get up and figure out the flatbed operation. But I didn’t have to wait – as soon as one of the flight attendants saw me getting positioned for a nap, she came over and offered to assist me with the bed. So here I was, 10 minutes into the flight, and the opportunity to sleep was right there. I just had to take it. Funny, that’s how my life seems to be going lately. So I laid down, adjusted the blanket, curled up on my side and quieted my mind by just thinking one thought. And guess what? I didn't expect it, but it worked. I had some typical shifting and getting comfortable moments, but I slept until 6:30am EST…about 7 hours. It wasn’t the most comfortable sleep of my life, but 7 hours of sleep on a plane is unheard of for me, so you’ll hear no complaints from seat 19K.
After waking up and standing to stretch, my flight attendant was back immediately to convert my bed back into a seat and offer me something to eat. I nibbled a little at a chicken salad sandwich, went across the aisle to visit with my colleagues (the ones who were awake, anyway), watched the flight monitor and wrote all this. Another flight attendant just came over and said “You have been working very intently—would you like me to get you something to eat?” Somehow, that little bit of a compliment strikes me as very funny. Now I think I’ll take a stroll up and down the aisle a bit, after which they will surely treat me as if I just ran a marathon, patting me on the back and remaking my bed so I can get some much needed sleep.
A blog post guaranteed to not make anyone cry...unless you have a problem with odd cereal eating habits.
1. Were you named after anyone? Technically, no. But I was born the year "All My Children" first aired and there was a character named Tara...
2. When was the last time you cried? HA. When was the last time I didn't? Okay, that makes me sound pathetic. But I'm not afraid of tears or crying and sometimes I cry when I'm happy, and believe it or not, I've been doing a fair bit of that lately! Most of my tears have been tears of joy or even relief lately. But the last time I cried was last night...when I did my taxes and realized that once again, despite making what I thought were going to be the appropriate changes, I owe a very large amount. VERY large. You'd cry, too, believe me.
3. Do you like your handwriting? It's okay - sometimes better than others. But I also am pretty good at doing really nice hand-lettering - creating something artistic out of words. I haven't done it in a long time, though.
4. What is your favorite lunch meat? Food questions usually stymie me because I don't think about food that much. I guess...roast beef?
5. Do you have kids? Duh. One, age 9. Love of my life. Best thing, ever.
6. If you were another person, would you be friends with you? Yes.
7. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Not a lot, but enough.
8. Do you still have your tonsils? Yep. I still have all my original parts.
9. Would you bungee jump? Probably.
10. What is your favorite cereal? Now this is a food question that I not only have an answer for, I have a convoluted system of preferences. In general I like a lot of cereals, but I only eat some of them with milk and some of them dry. The basic rule is that the sweeter the cereal, the more likely I am to eat it with milk. My favorite sweet cereal, Frosted Mini Wheats, falls in the milk category. My favorite non-sweet cereal, Wheat Chex, falls in the no milk category.
My cereal preferences get even more bizarre when it comes to Frosted Mini Wheats, though. Because I hate, loathe, and despise soggy cereal, I eat Frosted Mini Wheats one at a time. By that I mean I pour a bowl of milk and then put pieces of cereal in it one at a time. Yes, I realize this makes me a freak, and I'm just fine with that.
11. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Only if they won't come off any other way. But seriously, I only have two pairs of shoes that tie - my running shoes and a pair of gray herringbone oxford pumps, and those definitely don't come off without being untied.
12. Do you think you are strong? Sure.
13. What is your favorite ice cream? Vanilla. I'll take orange sherbet as a back-up.
14. What is the first thing you notice about people? Eye contact.
15. Red or pink? Yes.
16. What is the least favorite thing about yourself? My tendency to procrastinate.
17. Who do you miss most? My mother.
18. What color shoes and pants are you wearing? I'm wearing black bamboo-blend socks and dark raspberry colored American Eagle sweatpants. When I get dressed for work, I'll update this so that I don't sound like a total slob. (In my defense, as soon as I'm done with this, I'll be wearing knee-length workout leggings and no shoes.)
19. What was the last thing you ate? Um...a bacon, egg and gouda breakfast sandwich at Starbucks at about 4pm.
20. What are you listening to right now? "Don't Talk to Strangers" by Rick Springfield.
21. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Color questions smack of pop psych, don't they? I'd be magenta because I like the word.
22. Favorite smells? Oranges, a freshly bathed baby, the beach, the crêperie on Rue de Bellechase near Musee D'Orsay.
23. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? My sister.
24. Favorite sports to watch? Baseball. College football. College basketball. Almost all Olympic sports. Tennis. Honestly? Golf. I can dig that.
25. Hair color? Medium auburn.
26. Eye color? Hazel - mostly green.
27. Do you wear contacts? Sometimes.
28. Favorite food?
I'm done with food questions, so I'll answer this the way I want to. The food I was most pleased with recently was sushi. The food I'm most looking forward to right now is whatever wonderful stuff I'll eat in Singapore. (I leave tomorrow!!!!)
29. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. (I know what you're thinking.)
30. Last move you watched? In full - "Easy A." (passable, not great). In part - "La Vie En Rose" (great, but very hard to watch).
31. What color shirt are you wearing? Bright pink fleece half-zip.
32. Summer or winter? This is a trick question. I like all the seasons - each has its wonderful qualities, so I have a hard time choosing. I love the ease of summer and the briskness and beauty of winter. But missing are the cheerfulness of spring and the crispness of fall.
33. Hugs or kisses? Yes, and lots of them.
34.Favorite dessert?
As an act of rebellion against too many food questions in memes, I am now going to post one of my favorite artsy quotes.
35. What book(s) are you reading now?
See the side bar. The only thing not on there that is currently in progress is C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity.
36. What is on your mouse pad? "That's What She Said"
37. What did you watch on TV last night? Nothing.
38. Favorite sound? The little happy "mmmm" Alex makes when he gives me a hug.
39. Rolling Stones or the Beatles? This is like choosing between apples and salsa.
40. What is the farthest you have been from home?
Probably Aberdeen, Scotland, but that is about to change. (I'm not counting stuff like Guam and the Philippines because those places became home.)
41. Do you have a special talent?
Yes, ignoring meme questions I don't like.I'm also really good at packing/moving, planning a vacation, and parallel parking.
So...time for another one about the divorce. Maybe it's a Monday thing, maybe it's Mercury in retrograde (is it? I don't believe in that anyway), but today started off terribly. I felt physically ill (maybe too much of that bad for me but oh-so-good chili cheese dip last night?) and had bad dreams on top of that. It was as if I were being served a big helping of "you're supposed to be upset, you're getting a divorce." I did my best to muscle through it, had a sweet time with Alex before school, and put on a skirt and shoes I hadn't worn in ages and headed to the office.
I was feeling pretty low - probably a little sorry for myself, which is really never justified but always completely human. I felt like I'd made a big mess of my life, like I might have bitten off more than I could chew. Not a desire to go back or undo anything, just the sinking fear that maybe, just maybe, this was too big a mountain for even me to climb.
And then, just as quickly as I'd hung a negative sign around what was happening in my life, the positive signs started rolling in. First one dear friend asked how I was, because I seemed sad. He just smiled and reminded me that the journey isn't an easy one, but that I know I'm on the right path. Then another coworker sent me an instant message and asked if I was okay - we aren't even very close because she's fairly new and we don't work together much, but she noticed a difference in my usual demeanor and was there to offer her support.
Next I went into my office to make a phone call in peace (I came directly into the conference room and set up to work there, so I hadn't been in my office yet). There on my desk was a paper-wrapped bundle and inside it I found this:
My other boss/colleague/friend Corey had said she had a present for me, and this was it. I was moved more than I could possibly say - I've always appreciated her faith in and support of me, but in these last few weeks, it has been an source of exceptional strength and really lifted my spirits. This plate is just another reminder of that support and confidence.
I took a photo to post it on Facebook and as I was writing the comment to go with it, I realized I hadn't looked at the back so I didn't know if it was specifically from Corey or from her and any of her, um, exceptionally large family. ;) So I went back to my desk and turned it over and was blown away by the back:
This is a line from "Lullaby" by The Dixie Chicks. I had just posted it on Facebook recently (a repeat post, I'm sure since I love it so). This song always moves me and the line is "How long do you want to be loved? Is forever enough - is forever enough?" There's something deeply touching about not just having a friend, but having a friend who understands you - who SEES you. I am truly blessed beyond measure to have such a wellspring of love and support to draw from.
As if that weren't enough, after I finished sobbing uncontrollably, I went back to the conference room all teary-eyed (we don't do much hiding of tears around our office) and sat down at my laptop. There was a message on Facebook chat from an dear friend from high school that simply said, "Sweetie, why don't you come visit ? You need a fun weekend getaway! xo" Again, just the right thing at the right moment. And again, more tears of gratitude and joy.
To all the people out there who touch my life daily or not-so-often - please know you all have an impact, and your kindness, friendship, support, and love are precious to me. And for those who I don't know (there are mystery readers out there - I see you lurking!), never underestimate your ability to make someone else's day brighter. You never know when they might need a kind word or just a smile.Today was a revelation in ways I will find hard to articulate for some time, but for now I will just say that today made me believe that random acts of kindness aren't so random after all.
And to the always fabulous Carolyn Y, thanks for noticing the shoes. They cheered me up, too. :)
1. What do you fear most about flying in an airplane?
Having my eardrums burst. Occasionally when flying over the ocean I get a little antsy thinking about being over all that water, which is really has more to do with my fear of very deep water than any fear associated with flying.
2. Have you ever had a provider lose your luggage? If so, how long did it take for them to find it?
Oh goodness yes. Well, to be precised, I've had it mishandled many times, probably 8-10 in all. I once had a bag that was "lost" on a trip from Albany to Huntsville and Northwest couldn't locate it before my trip ended. When I got to Huntsville to check in for my flight home, I asked the gate agent for an update (yet again) and like everyone else, she asked for a description. When I provided one she said, "Wait just a minute," opened a door behind her and there was my suitcase. It had made it after all and was probably there te whole time!
I also had a flight on Christmas Day one year, and it happened to be the day after Richard Reid (aka the shoe bomber) was arrested. I expected heavier security, so we got there 2 hours early for our flight to Orlando. We were flying first class, so our luggage was all priority tagged. We had a direct flight to Orlando, so there were no tricky or short connections. And yet one item never made it on the plane. I swear, Philadelphia has the worst baggage handling, ever.
3. Where would you prefer to sit on an airplane: by the window, the aisle or in the center?
In theory I prefer a window seat, but in practice, it depends on the plane and the length of the flight. My criteria for deciding is quite intricate. For instance:
Shorter flights on smaller planes when I'm tired: window seat so I can lean against the interior wall and pretend to sleep. (I often have trouble sleeping on planes.) Longer flights on smaller planes when I have work to do: aisle seat so that I can work and get up to stretch or go to the lavatory a little more easily. Red-eye flights in coach: aisle seat because I know I won't get any sleep, so at least I'll be able to get up and move around. Red-eye flights in first class: window seat (getting out of the row past the aisle seatmate is easier) International flights in coach: aisle seat, preferably in the center section, close to the front of the coach cabin so that I can get my dinner service fast and then try to sleep. International flights in first class: Greatly depends on the cabin configuration and if I'm alone or with someone. On Delta flights with their new "pod" seats, I prefer an even-numbered row, either 2 or 4 on either side (it's a 1x2x1 configuration with every seat having aisle access). It really does make a difference, I swear. Southwest: Exit row on the side of the plane that has just one exit row, aisle or window.
Oh good grief, it says I am a middle seat. The results:
You are an outgoing, friendly, and likable person. You enjoy being in the middle of the action. You trust others freely. You enjoy cooperating and collaborating with people from all walks of life.
While no one likes being in the middle seat, you're happy to make the best of it. Your positive outlook creates a lot of stability and security... both for yourself and for those around you.
I have a middle seat on a couple of flights coming up, and I'll definitely be making the best of it.
5. If you had to book a flight this evening, which airline would you prefer to fly with?
Again, it depends. I really like Southwest because they have such excellent service and I find them to be very reliable. However, I have good status now with Delta. I'm really looking forward to next Friday's flight on Singapore Airlines, though. (Yes, it's 19 hours, but it's a 100-seat, all-business class flight, so I expect excellent service.)
6. What’s the last place you flew to?
Norfolk, VA (I'd never flown there before, either.)