the unbearable lightness of being a twinkie

** Matt Morris makes me swoon. **

I stared, and for quite some time. An elderly couple sat to my right and seemed bothered by the fact that I did not have a traditional way of sitting in my airplane seat - wait, is there a traditional way? Not sure.
Is it all that un-traditional to sit with one's knees curled up next to one's chest while sitting in an airplane seat? They thought so. I will call them Melba and Hank, for I would hate to continue to reference them as "the elderly couple".
So Melba sent many wondering gazes my way. She smiled sweetly when I returned her quick glance, but otherwise was not friendly per se. Hank slept. He slept hard-core with his head tilted back and his mouth open. I wanted to drop a nickle in his mouth just to see what would happen, but I figured the outcome would be nothing on the helpful side. I wouldn't want to be un-helpful to Hank. No, not I.
So I'm convinced that Melba did not enjoy the way that I was sitting on the plane. I don't guess that it was necessarily disturbing her, although it did take some maneuvering to contort my body into the proper position in such a small space.
She didn't like what I was reading, or, at least she seemed to be curious. The cover too bright, the title too large, the tagline too unorthodox. I was not reading fine literature, nay, I was reading Nick Hornby. How intelligent could I possibly be?
Eh, I delight in shirking Melba and Hank's expectations. I am a monkey, afterall.

So I stared and worked my best to ignore Melba and Hank and their outrageously high expectations for my entire generation and especially for me.

Another wedding.
Another friend (2 friends!) married.
Another empty champagne flute.
Another sexual advance from Scott.
Another dance with a ridiculously drunk Tiedeman.
Another 1200 airline miles.

I love flying through the clouds. I watch closely, waiting because I know what's coming. I know that we're right on the edge (of reason, perhaps?) and I know that the sun is shining on the other side.
So I stare and watch and wait. The cloud's darkness completely envelopes the aircraft and if I look closely out my window, I can see the mist that makes up the entire cloud. I can see it passing rapidly by my window quicker than... well, quicker than something really, really fast.
Even though I'm expecting it at any moment, I am surprised when suddenly, in an instant, in a moment, in less than a moment, we are out of the cloud and the sun is shining so brightly I have to turn away from the window. I smile. I think what it must look like from the cockpit. What it must be like to head straight into it like that. You're flying through a cloud for one moment, two moments, a lifetime, when suddenly, out of nowhere, you are surrounded by bright sunlight and the darkness of the cloud is nowhere to be found. I wonder if the pilots watch this still, if it makes them smile. I wonder if they love it as much as I think they do.

The wedding was good, good, good. I've never seen Manny and Meg so happy.
And this is the last time that I know I'll see the merry CRNCsters. I've been seeing them all rather consistently since I moved from DC and everytime I've seen them there's always been a "next time" that we were getting together in the near future. Convention, CPAC, Parker's wedding, Meghan's wedding... now, there's nothing set and I'm not sure when I'll see them again. I know I'll see them - I just don't know when. That makes me somewhat sad.

I need to stop cracking my knuckles.

I have a rather long story I want to tell about a family I saw in the airport, but I don't have the time to type it right now. Later... I shall save it for later. But for right now it's going to be warm showers and quick breakfast and then my hour commute into Jersey City for a day at the Bret2005 headquarters.

I can't wait to get into my car. I can't wait to drive. I can't wait to be surrounded by the sound of "Origin of Symmetry" and to feel empowered all over again.