Well I did my Boston thang this week, up and back quick as a wink. One of these days I’m going to give myself a little buffer so I can meet some people I’ve been wanting to meet and say hello to some olden time blogger friends (hi, Karin!) but these days the tight turn-a-round is what I’ve got to give. Up Tuesday, home Thursday night. Peaceful, fun, invigorating, exhausting.
My flight back last night was the first time I’ve had to finagle a three-fer connection, it was the only option for coming home Thursday instead of waiting until Friday. So I did a zip from Boston to New York, a zip from New York to Charlotte, a wee-lil-blink from Charlotte to home (this flight allows me time to listen to exactly three Avett Brothers songs before having to power back down for landing). It all worked out and I’m glad to be home. Highlight of the trip up was flying over New York with a gorgeous view of the city — Manhattan, Central Park, leaves beginning to change. So lovely.
This post is going nowhere fast but the truth is, it’s Friday night and I’m not gonna be one of those people who spends it on Pinterest getting depressed about their lack of personal style and abominable backyard landscaping. No siree not me. Full disclosure: I’m waiting for Paul to put Henry down, I finally got Isa sawing them logs, and we’re going to watching some kind of something on the tube, hopefully nothing involving the letters N or B or A.
Related: has anyone seen Gravity? Is it awesome? Did you hyperventilate?
Have I ever told you about the time I had a gigantic panic attack when I went to see The Passion of the Christ? Well, I did. Good times. And ever since then I’ve been a tad hesitant about intense films. Thinking three hours of watching someone floating deeper and deeper into space while fruitlessly flailing at nearby cords and satellites? I feel shortness of breath even as we speak.
Having said that, that time with PotC was during a particularly dark season of my life (code word: hormones) and I’ve conquered a lot of demons since then. Getting regular nights of sleep has also had a tremendous impact on my outlook on life (as sleep often does) so who knows, maybe I’m at a point where I can handle a movie about a woman who faces the possibility of drifting into nothingness.
And suddenly Pinterest is looking a little less scary…