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tunagirl34
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Name: Lauren
Metro:
Birthday: 2/16/1984
Gender: Female
Interests: reading, hanging with my friends, crocheting and/or cross stitching, procrastinating, watching movies (when i actually have the time)
Expertise: random factoids
Message: message me
Member Since:
1/25/2003
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| Sorry, friends! I know it's been a while.
I was bored at lunch today, so I started looking up some of my favorite bands and seeing if they would be touring through (or near) Oklahoma in the near future. Alas, Oklahoma has be the least toured place in the US. Well, maybe that and Idaho. Jars of Clay has Christmas music up on their website, and I must say it moved something deep inside me.
That deep longing buried in the depths of my being has moved. I've breathed that whiff of winter and the quick approach of Christmas. Oh, I love that fragrance! Sweatshirts and fuzzy sweaters. The funny smell of the heater, cinnamon rolls, and dust from the attic while we decorate the Christmas tree. The hope of a college student that she'll pass her finals and the sigh of relief as the dorm Christmas lights fade into the distance. The miniture tree decorated with only my ornaments. Gift ribbons made of yarn. Silly family portraits in front of the Christmas tree.
Stir away, memory! I'm ready for the holidays!
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| Plane ticket to Nashville: $280
Freeing my car from the OKC airport shuttle lot: $12
Snacks for the plane: $4
Shoe shine guy entertainment: free
Books I bought on my trip: I don't even want to think about it
Number of almond M&Ms eaten in the last four days: not enough
Amount of gum chewed: almost an entire package
Number of barf bags used: none
Realization that I am addicted to caffeine: horrifying
Awesome evening at the Bluebird Cafe: cost me $30, but the amazement score is through the roof
Dog toys that Benny destroyed while I was there: $3.79
Brian never letting me forget that I broke his 4Runner with my voodoo magic: hilarious
Two words--Slave Quarters: worth more than words can express (I'm going to be snickering to myself for weeks)
Total trip to Nashville to see Adrian and Brian: freakin' priceless!
Random update: So, the dude with the linen pants, white croc wingtips, and Sydney cowboy hat was totally on my flight back from Houston last night. I discovered before leaving OKC on Friday afternoon that he was part of a four-man band. (One of which carried his cymbals around in a round backpack. Can anyone explain to me what kind of band would need guitars and cymbals but no drums? I'm confused.) Anyway, I'm pretty sure croc wingtip man was tipsy on our flight home last night, but I think he slept most of the way. Oh so interesting the things we can learn by people watching...
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| It's one of those mornings where I shivered as I got ready. I haven't figured out yet if it's the early morning cool or the nervous excitement that makes me shake so.
I head for the waiting area for my flight. Gate 10. Not terribly exciting, but at least it's close to the bathroom. As I approach my gate, I realize that before me is perhaps not a truly Oklahoman sight, but more of a sight that could be misconstrued as "only in Oklahoma." I hear the soft hum of a harmonica and wonder if this is merely the sound of the PA. Glancing about, I discover the source of the sound. A cowboy hat tops the man with the harmonica. He's getting his shoes shined. Not boots; they're white croc wingtips. The shoe shiner buffs the edges of the shoes as the last strains of the harmonica ease down the concourse. "Not Okie," I think to myself. No, he's got the croc shoes, linen trousers, and a hat he might have found on a rack in the Sydney airport.
All speculation aside, sitting out at the gate next to the shoe shine stand proves to be interesting.
The odd sensation of several eyes peering at me makes me mildly uncomfortable. It's an odd feeling because, really, what have I just spent the last moments musing over? People watching. I glance up, and it's not just one set of eyes staring my way. Of course it now occurs to me that the eyes are gazing not at me, but what lies behind me. I am sitting alone right in front of the windows.
I still wonder, though, if they are wondering the same thing I am: who is going to sit next to me for the next two hours?
Glancing up once more, I begin to desperately hope that I am not the only woman on this flight. Moments later, a single Hispanic woman sits in our waiting corral. Several other ovarians appear over the next few minutes, all with their husbands.
A baby cries at the next gate, drawing me from my revelry. Passengers begin the timeless walk off the jetway through Gate 10.
So often rushing, exiting passengers tend to forget that they still have to wait in baggage claim for the ceaseless carousel to cough up the now jostled contents of their luggage--most of which, they now realize, should have stayed home in the first place. "Alas, maybe I'll remember next time," they think as they heave bags from the silver swirler.
The shoe shiner is now on his third set of glossy feet. At least this time it's a pair of real cowboy boots.
I shiver a little with anticipation. I'm ready to fly.
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| So much for my sad song, so much for my sorry attitude. ...cuz it's turning out to be a marvelous day.
So,
yeah, I stole that from Chris Rice, but those words are just how I'm
feelin' today. Apart from the fact that half of my living room carpet
is flooded and most of my belongings are stuffed into my bedroom, a
nice call from an author sure made my afternoon better.
Psalm 12:25 "An anxious heart weighs a man down, but a kind word cheers him up." | | |
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