We traveled to another state for a family visit and it was an experience rich with epiphanies. Here are the ones I can remember:
1. I have zero fear of flying and no anxiety about things going wrong. I sat next to the window and enjoyed being up in the clouds. I realized that I didn’t care about the plane crashing; it was a genuine feeling of ‘So what? No problem.’ I’m aware this may not be normal thinking but it is incredibly liberating.
2. I don’t need a green crocodile handbag by Nancy Gonzalez. I have viewed this item as the holy grail of consumer goods for a long time. Don’t ask why. I planned to buy one when some nebulous project made me a million dollars. I went to look at one and when I touched it, I felt no surge of longing or quickening heartbeat, and certainly no spark of joy. Poof, the spell was broken! This frees up at least $3,000 of imaginary future money.
3. I really do wear a 32C and and not a 34B. The last time some bra lady told me to switch sizes, I refused to take her up on it. A nice, more persuasive bra lady named Vicky convinced me to make the change. It was almost like accepting Jesus into my heart only it was Vicky. Thanks, girl!
4. I am emotionally better off when deprived of media. A few days without TV or internet can tamp down one’s everyday sense of rage. One day back at home and I’m ready to fucking explode at that stupid bitch who won’t let same-sex people get married. Why do we have her?? Take her away!
5. Ice cream is more important than any other type of food. Keep your fancy entrees and give me ice cream instead.
6. Coming home from somewhere else is deeply satisfying. I love my own bed and it loves me. Even though we discovered a plumbing leak that may be catastrophic, home is where you can do what you want, where all your shit is, like your Waterpik thing and your skin products. Home is your sanctuary.
Oh and here’s one more, but this is more like a life lesson or general wisdom: If you break your baby toe, someone’s going to try to run over it with a shopping cart, and they will eventually succeed.
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Joanne,
All quite interesting, though I’m only qualified to speak to a few of your points. #1. Agree totally, except for the 2 minutes of perhaps panic of going down and the disgust of people throwing up around me (perhaps including my own), otherwise what happens, happens. Why worry? And the statistical probability is way too low to worry about. ##2 & 3, not qualified, though am always curious and mystified by #3. #4. Either disagree or am neutral. I use media, I don’t let it use me. And like the plane going down, there’s nothing I can do about a fat lady in Kentucky and I kinda like Donald Trump fucking up the Republican race and hope it continues forever. #5. Totally agree. Though would add cold cereal to my important food list. #6. Couldn’t have said it better myself or by Dorothy in Oz. Best, Tom
Wow, sounds like you’re growing up.
How clever of you.
You’ll love it!
All that from a little trip to Texas? It’s a magical place….
I love you!
Now that’s better! Instead of those mammoth tits which caused me such palpitations, we have a nice row of middle-sized, middle-class American bottoms to gaze at – so restful!
Hmmmm………they don’t really look like American bums to me.
Unless they’re American bums from another era, say the 50’s.
Nos. 4, 5, and 6 speak to me.
Let there be quiet, for a little while. No shows, no screens, no buds, pads, or pods, and the brain resets to neutral. Aaaaaaaaahhhhh.
Yes, and sugar-laden, full-fat, no-air-pumped-in ice cream for me. Eating low-fat IC is like chewing low-bubble bubble gum.
I’ve been forced to have a few hospital stays over the years, and every time, coming home to my own bed, recovery time was phenomenal. Like one day.
(Those can NOT be American butts; not one triple-wide)
I truly relate to #1 sister. When your world has been ripped apart by tragedy you do learn that not a lot really matters. I have the exact same feeling when flying now.
Coming back to your own bed, nothing like it, even when it’s a lumpy, back-breaking, piece of shit, at least it’s YOUR bed.