the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
when i get there ~ May 31, 2004 - 8:34 p.m. trying to get back into the groove of writing in this thang. seems like it shouldn't be that hard, since the truth is that i really do love this writing. clearly, having hung with it through three and a half years of nonstop chaos and change. it's not that i'm not wanting to write, it's just that i'm out of practice with connecting to the larger world. milwaukee does this to me, builds walls around my mind and shuts me up inside. that's why i gave myself wings. i got them, officially, on thursday night-- me and my eight fellow training classmates, all gussied up in our uniforms, for a little graduation ceremony. my parents, my sister, my nephews were there. mom and dad even changed travel plans to come. and, in spite of the fact that they'd like me to be doing work more in the change-the-world vein, they were proud. shining with it. maybe just seeing me in my uniform, looking so professional. getting my wings pinned on. and they know how hard i worked for this. it's a funny thing, this professional appearance bit. because, as i'm sure you can guess, there's a gazillion rules to follow about your appearance when you're a flight attendant. and this is a thing i never thought i'd put up with. me of the wild hair, wooly legs and multiple tattoos. she who's had her nose pierced for roughly half her life now. but i came to a point where i realized that how i look really and truly has nothing to do with who i am. that i can take out my piercings, put on a uniform, wear foundation and powder-- and for goodness sakes, even blush-- and it doesn't change a damn thing about who i am. there's something fun, even, about being so crisp and pressed and put-together. it's an image i've never inhabited before. a new reflection. and of course, civilians look at us like we're rock stars when we're walking through the airports or the hotels with the pilots, trailing our rollerbags. so far, being an insider in this industry is endlessly entertaining to me. especially after all my years of travel, all the flight hours logged as a passenger. i've stepped through the looking glass. but back to connecting with the world-- i'm trying, truly i am. i just discovered a handful of new guestbook entries i knew nothing about, including a gorgeous poem, and i do truly intend to respond to all my dear ones near and far, in sooner days rather than later. the intention is there, and with a little care and watering, a whole lot of sunshine, i fully expect it to bloom into a joyous reunion of self and precious others. in the meantime, know that i love you, dear ones. truly. i'm on the road home to my heart. i'll call you when i get there.
(((rings))) |