Prairie Dog-It Every Now and Again

I am not a fan of flying. I prefer other modes of travel, like driving, walking or teleportation. Flying is a necessary evil. But the more and more I fly, the more accustom I become to all that comes with it (good and bad). Except turbulence. Turbulence freaks me out. Every time.

My regular airline for the past, ohhh forever has been Delta. But since I have moved to Seattle and am traveling to Baltimore's airport, I have found that direct Delta flights are difficult to come by. In fact, any direct flights from Seattle to Baltimore on any airline is difficult. So I decided to give United a shot. Both ways I have had to change planes in Chicago O'Hare's airport. I must say, I like O'Hare. It has a feel that I just liked. I can't put my finger on it so you will just have to take my word on that. Not at all like the feel that Atlanta's airport has always given me...the desire to shower the "ick" off.

Back to this flight. When I took off in Harrisburg (yeah I flew out of Harrisburg--you need to keep up in my head) it was a clear morning. Quite beautiful actually. But the skies turned cloudy in our approach to Chicago. Now...I prefer window seats. I like to be able to look out the window and see something. It helps prevent me from getting woozy. I've only ever gotten sick once on a plane--but I get woozy---that turbulence thing.

Where was I. Oh yes...looking out the window.

I'm looking out the window at this ocean of clouds, which is nothing that spectacular. Until I saw it. I didn't spot a UFO. Sorry, this is not that kind of post. I do crazy in other ways! Ha!

Anyways! I'm staring out the window at this ocean of clouds and jutting out the top of clouds like...Michael Jordan at a little person convention is the Willis (Sears) Tower in all 1,451 feet of its magnificent, modern marvelness! 

Not pictured are the antennas from the John Hancock Building peaking out of the clouds (out of this shot---they wouldn't show) too! As if it were trying to catch up with its bigger brother to break through the clouds.

There is a point to my story-telling. My point is this. Pop your head out from your laptop, cell phone, busy life every once in a while and look around. As one saying goes, "stop and smell the roses", and yet another says, "if you're so busy working, your entire life will pass you by and then where will you be?" Okay, that second one isn't a real quote. Unless you quote me. I'm sure someone has said something close to that somewhere.

Take a breath. That is all.

Sleep deprived...but present

Greetings and salutations from the left coast. We are officially Seattlites, Rentonians, Washingtonians or Pacific North Westerners – or something. The journey that led me and the family to this point was long, but once the ride started you could almost hear the announcer in the back ground saying, “please stay seated and keep your arms inside until ride comes to a complete stop.” I think we just cleared the first hill. This is going be a long ride. I hope no one barfs.

As I begin to reflect on the past three months, I still cannot believe I am where I am. But I am. So I am taking comfort in just “being”; about as best as I can “be”. I can’t just “be”, you see (is this turning into a Dr. Seuss story); because I am me. Okay, I’ll stop now…brown cow. ALRIGHT!

Right, where was I? Just being in the moment, that is. Last week, I woke up with a doozy of a headache. It’s no mystery for those who are close to me and know me well, that when I go, I go hard. And when I hit a wall, it’s usually with the same fervor.

Side story to the main point: The family is now in the house and we are adjusting (quite well thank you very much). We love the house and I will post more on it later. But let me tell you about our bedroom. It (along with all other windows) has lovely wide blinds covering the windows. Now, the days are longer in the summer. We all learned this in school. But let me tell you how that affects you in Washington; at least, in my bedroom. Come in and put your feet up. You see that sunlight? That…over there? Yeah. It makes an appearance at 5:30 am.

Excuse me? Did she say 5:30 am? And there’s sunlight in Washington?

Yes. I said 5:30…in the morning. I typically refer to any hour before 6:00 am as “o’dark thirty.” And in the first days we stayed in our house, the skies were bright, clear and sunny most days. But every sense of my being was screaming, “for the love it’s o’dark thirty, what the hell is that sunshine doing showing up all unannounced??!”

A side to the side note: If you are positioning yourself to fire off some snarky remark on how I’m complaining about the sunshine and that Washington rains every other minute of the year, and that they “turn out the lights in October. And that it is the #1 Suicide capital of the U.S.” OH. MY. GAWD. Save it.

So I woke up at 5:30 am because I no longer have a ten minute commute and need to get up earlier. I jumped up out of bed, because it was not unlike the bright light Carol Ann was told to go toward. I thought I had over slept. My husband thought I had overslept. Nope. That’s just a sunny morning in June, in Washington.

I popped up and then immediately had to lie back down from the crushing headache. There was that wall I was telling you about; crashed into it with great fervor and abandon. I had my hands pressed onto the top of my head and covering my eyes because it was that painful. It was at this moment I realized, I would have to leave for work a little later and contend with traffic. Fortunately, I didn't have anything I had to be in early for, so there I laid. After about an hour, a large mug of French Roast, and two Excedrin later I was showered, primped and ready to conquer the day, as well as the traffic.

I love French Roast. I hated it for many years. That’s a friendly reminder that our tastes change as we get older, age, mature. So if there is something you didn't care for in the past, try it again. You might surprise yourself.

With my mug of French Roast, keys, bag, lunch, and sunglasses in hand I was out the door and down the road. The streets were already buzzing so I braced myself for the worst. I zoomed up onto the 405 north ramp and stopped like a good commuter who did not qualify for the carpool lane. As I sat and waited in the queue for my turn I watched car after car pass in the carpool lane containing single occupants. Well. Humph. Maybe I will buy that blow-up doll after all.

I made my way onto the expressway, freeway, high way, interstate. What do they call it here? I don’t know. I trudged along at 35-40 mph for about five miles until I got onto 90-W and my drive continued. The part I love best about my commute, and I am sure I will grow to detest, is my drive over Lake Washington. One of Seattle’s greatest beauties is its greatest weakness. It’s a city locked in by beautiful mountains, the Puget Sound, and lakes that drivers must contend with daily. Because it was a little later in my usual drive time, the sun had the chance to peak over the mountains and reflect on the water, lighting up the houses on the hill facing west on Mercer Island.

I wonder what the people who live in those houses are doing as I drive across that bridge. Are they drinking coffee on their fabulous patios and watching the sunrise? Are they still asleep, because who gets up that early when you live on an island? Are they on “island time”? Or are they up and out the door like the rest of us poor slobs to pay for their little slice of heaven? I clear Mercer Island and then cross over Lake Washington again and see more houses facing west and think the same thing about these people except I add, “I bet their commute is nice.” Then through the tunnel I go! I haven’t commuted through a tunnel since I lived in Pittsburgh.

The final scenes of my drive will leave you sports nuts a little envious. As I exit 90-W, I pass under an overpass and as I clear it, “BOOM!” Safeco Field is in my face. I have expressed my disdain for all major league sports for quite some time. But driving past this behemoth every morning, which sits next to the Century Link stadium has renewed my interest in sports, which means I need to get a game soon

The last journey in my daily commute is where to park. Do I park down the side street by the office for free? The obvious answer to that is yes. But finding a spot is the trick. So on this day, I park at the Safeco field and pay the daily fee of $5.00 which is tolerable if not done every day. It is exactly 1 mile from the parking deck to my desk. I have the option to take a shuttle if the time of day and weather condition is aligned. On this day, I take the shuttle. Remember that headache? But in the afternoon that day, my headache was a memory, the sun was shining, and I just can’t resist the flavor of Seattle’s SoDo neighborhood. And that’s another post.

But staying present was the point of my post. Each day is an adventure. The sun shines on new things I haven’t previously seen. And that is just the adventure I wanted.