Okay first thing is first, I hit the magic 31 today. That means that the pain in my left knee is not about rain, it is about being old. I do want to warn you, this post is going to be all over the place today.
On planes and flying:
Okay, this weekend (Friday morning) I took a trip to Colorado Springs, Colorado. This trip involved a layover in Minneanaopolis (how does one spell that city correctly?), Minnesota. Now the flight from Columbus to Minnieanapolis was largely uneventful but absolutely jam packed. The flight from Meanieanapolis to Colorado Springs was packed as well, but also fraught with annoyance. It seems that the person sitting opposite to me in the aisle felt it necessary to tell everyone within earshot about the trials and tribulations that she had endured during her 37 year existence. This sob story of uneventful tragedy culminated with her talking about her grand-baby’s momma. Sadly whilst berating the grand-baby’s momma’s incompetence, it was near impossible not to notice said grand-baby sitting in grandma’s lap. The child was around 2-ish and exhausted, but more on that later. For the 1 hr 45 min flight, this woman in her shrill southern twang, you know she lived in North Carolina for 7 years, and then moved to Texas for 3 years, but has never been able to get rid of her Southern accent even though she has been living in Michigan for the past 4 years after having moved from Pennsylvania before that, but she is only traveling to Colorado Springs with her grand-daughter so she could see her father that she didn’t grow up knowing about, you see, she was adopted, but thought that her adoptive parents were her biological parents, until she was about 20 when she found out her “real” dad lived in Colorado Springs with her 4 brothers and sisters that she never knew anything about, talked for the entire flight. Take a breath. She has 3 kids of her own, their ages are 23, 17, and 13 (yes if you do the math, this woman was 14 at the time of her first child’s birth), and she is taking care of her grand-daughter almost exclusively since the child’s mom is only 15 (for the subtraction impared: child is 2, mom is 15, baby born when mom was 13), and not that bright. She just should not have been having unprotected sex at such a young age, because unprotected sex leads to having kids. Turns out she was having unprotected sex with her 17 year old (again for the subtraction impaired: kid got 13 or 12 year old pregnant at age 15 or 14, let’s just say the apple don’t fall far ), but he bears no culpability. Anyway… to sum things up, this 15 year old girl is supposedly not the sharpest tool in the shed, not like her boy…. Blah blah blah blah blah more mom bashing blah blah blah blah. The whole time this woman is expositing her life story, the grand kid is trying desperately to take a nap on her shoulder. Each time this kid would drift off, grandma would start yammering again and wake the kid up. By the end of the flight, the visibly exhausted child, was sobbing. Absolutely dreadful flight. I wanted to scratch my eyeballs out.
The flight back from Minniandapolis to Columbus last night was a comedy of errors as well. Tons of sitting on the plane stuck on the tarmac. To the gentleman behind me on the flight, “Beavis and Butthead” is no longer funny (if it ever was). So your comments during the flight attendants’ monologue about safety on the plane were less than amusing, but surprisingly annoying. His not so intelligent girlfriend found his “She said insert, huh huh huh huh huh.” Not so terribly amusing, in a refreshingly sort of 1990’s way. This is a guy who will in 10 years be saying “I’m Rick James, Bish!!!!” Just a bit behind the curve, Sparky. Come back to the present. Again, I wanted to scratch my eyeballs out.
On birthdays
This is a bit deeper, so bear with me. Today is my birthday. I am a total of 31 years old today, but in many ways I am also 12. 12 years ago tonight, I witnessed a tragic event that changed my life as well as others close to me. I am not going to go into details in this here blog about the events in question, but lets just say that my birthday is a bit bittersweet, because not only is it the celebration of my birth, it is also the remembrance of my death of innocence and loss of youthful immortality. I always try to be mindful on my birthday about this tragedy out of respect for those whom it affected most, and because it has helped shape who I am. Much in my life has changed in the past 12 years, and I am definitely a more mature person because of it.
On Father’s Day
I was in Colorado for Father’s Day while my boy was in Ohio, I will try not to make that mistake again.
On being back to work after a vacation
This sucks.
To recap:
Happy birthday to me.
Minneapolis is difficult to spell, but enjoyable to misspell.
When on a plane, please do not give your life story. No one cares
Kid when she was 14, grandkid when her son was 14 or 15, hmmmmm do I see a pattern?
Mike Judge, you single-handedly ruined cartoons.
Beavis and Butthead were never funny. At best they were mildly amusing… occasionally.
Shout out to G-money and his sis in their Colorado crib!
I am definitely not street.
I missed the little one on Dad’s Day
Work sucks.
On planes and flying:
Okay, this weekend (Friday morning) I took a trip to Colorado Springs, Colorado. This trip involved a layover in Minneanaopolis (how does one spell that city correctly?), Minnesota. Now the flight from Columbus to Minnieanapolis was largely uneventful but absolutely jam packed. The flight from Meanieanapolis to Colorado Springs was packed as well, but also fraught with annoyance. It seems that the person sitting opposite to me in the aisle felt it necessary to tell everyone within earshot about the trials and tribulations that she had endured during her 37 year existence. This sob story of uneventful tragedy culminated with her talking about her grand-baby’s momma. Sadly whilst berating the grand-baby’s momma’s incompetence, it was near impossible not to notice said grand-baby sitting in grandma’s lap. The child was around 2-ish and exhausted, but more on that later. For the 1 hr 45 min flight, this woman in her shrill southern twang, you know she lived in North Carolina for 7 years, and then moved to Texas for 3 years, but has never been able to get rid of her Southern accent even though she has been living in Michigan for the past 4 years after having moved from Pennsylvania before that, but she is only traveling to Colorado Springs with her grand-daughter so she could see her father that she didn’t grow up knowing about, you see, she was adopted, but thought that her adoptive parents were her biological parents, until she was about 20 when she found out her “real” dad lived in Colorado Springs with her 4 brothers and sisters that she never knew anything about, talked for the entire flight. Take a breath. She has 3 kids of her own, their ages are 23, 17, and 13 (yes if you do the math, this woman was 14 at the time of her first child’s birth), and she is taking care of her grand-daughter almost exclusively since the child’s mom is only 15 (for the subtraction impared: child is 2, mom is 15, baby born when mom was 13), and not that bright. She just should not have been having unprotected sex at such a young age, because unprotected sex leads to having kids. Turns out she was having unprotected sex with her 17 year old (again for the subtraction impaired: kid got 13 or 12 year old pregnant at age 15 or 14, let’s just say the apple don’t fall far ), but he bears no culpability. Anyway… to sum things up, this 15 year old girl is supposedly not the sharpest tool in the shed, not like her boy…. Blah blah blah blah blah more mom bashing blah blah blah blah. The whole time this woman is expositing her life story, the grand kid is trying desperately to take a nap on her shoulder. Each time this kid would drift off, grandma would start yammering again and wake the kid up. By the end of the flight, the visibly exhausted child, was sobbing. Absolutely dreadful flight. I wanted to scratch my eyeballs out.
The flight back from Minniandapolis to Columbus last night was a comedy of errors as well. Tons of sitting on the plane stuck on the tarmac. To the gentleman behind me on the flight, “Beavis and Butthead” is no longer funny (if it ever was). So your comments during the flight attendants’ monologue about safety on the plane were less than amusing, but surprisingly annoying. His not so intelligent girlfriend found his “She said insert, huh huh huh huh huh.” Not so terribly amusing, in a refreshingly sort of 1990’s way. This is a guy who will in 10 years be saying “I’m Rick James, Bish!!!!” Just a bit behind the curve, Sparky. Come back to the present. Again, I wanted to scratch my eyeballs out.
On birthdays
This is a bit deeper, so bear with me. Today is my birthday. I am a total of 31 years old today, but in many ways I am also 12. 12 years ago tonight, I witnessed a tragic event that changed my life as well as others close to me. I am not going to go into details in this here blog about the events in question, but lets just say that my birthday is a bit bittersweet, because not only is it the celebration of my birth, it is also the remembrance of my death of innocence and loss of youthful immortality. I always try to be mindful on my birthday about this tragedy out of respect for those whom it affected most, and because it has helped shape who I am. Much in my life has changed in the past 12 years, and I am definitely a more mature person because of it.
On Father’s Day
I was in Colorado for Father’s Day while my boy was in Ohio, I will try not to make that mistake again.
On being back to work after a vacation
This sucks.
To recap:
Happy birthday to me.
Minneapolis is difficult to spell, but enjoyable to misspell.
When on a plane, please do not give your life story. No one cares
Kid when she was 14, grandkid when her son was 14 or 15, hmmmmm do I see a pattern?
Mike Judge, you single-handedly ruined cartoons.
Beavis and Butthead were never funny. At best they were mildly amusing… occasionally.
Shout out to G-money and his sis in their Colorado crib!
I am definitely not street.
I missed the little one on Dad’s Day
Work sucks.