Neurosis, from Newark to Norway

Posted on
Sep 23, 2009
Posted in: Random Musings

Rand and I are on our way to Oslo, though by the time I post this, we’ll already be there (barring the usual global disasters). We’re currently in the Newark Airport, still reeling from our adventure at Sea-Tac eight hours ago. Needless to say, we made the flight because of Rand, who managed to get us through a one-and-a-half-hour security line in 20 minutes.

He might have offered the devil our first born child in exchange, but whatever. I mean, first-borns are practice, anyway. They’re the ones on which you screw up, right?

And now we’re halfway through our three hour lay-over in the waiting area of Gate One-Hundred and Something. I am tired – crazy tired, and hoping that I’ll manage to get some sleep on the plane, even though that’s not something I’m usually able to do. In the meantime, my brain is allowing that random walk of thoughts that only happens when we are very, very tired. In no particular order, here’s some of the nonsense that’s worked inteself through my head:

  • How awful would it  be to the be the ugly Jonas Brother whom you just know is no one’s favorite?
  • Man, I need some waterproof boots.
  • I wonder if that dude who’s asleep on the floor realizes he’s asleep on the floor … in NEWARK. Is he going to miss his flight? Or contract cholera?
  • Spina Bifida must suck.
  • Oh god, it reaks of pooh. And scents are airborne particles, which means I’m breathing in tiny particles of pooh. Oh, god. I AM BREATHING SOMEONE ELSE’S DIGESTED BIG MAC.
  • That show starring Joel from Mercer Island is good. Like, really good. I don’t know whether to be proud or jealous. I think I’ll go with prealous.
  • Did I remember to water my plant before leaving? No. Nope. Dead. It will be DEAD by the time I get home.
  • I will be in Newark four times in two weeks. That seems a bit much.
  • Shit. What the fuck am I doing with my life?

Anyway, you get the idea. I’m feeling exhausted and weird and insecure, and I’m off for a week to a cold climate full of (I imagine, at least) tall beautiful blond people. And …

Huh. Go figure. Just when I’m feeling neurotic and lonely and stupid and sick of travel, Rand shows up with this:

“But … but you don’t like sprinkles,” I say, a bit confused.

“No,” he replies, “but you do.”

 

And suddenly everything is okay again.

Leave a Comment

More from The Blog

On Instagram @theeverywhereist

  • Take note: if you ask your husband if you can move to NYC roughly four dozen times, he will start to cave a little.
  • Incredible reading by the love of my life to a packed room at NeueHouse Madison Square. So proud of you, @randderuiter, and the amazing emcee work by @michaeliconking.
  • Re-posting this photo that @wilreynolds took of us and his youngest near the beach outside of Lisbon. We're back home now, and I can't decide what I miss more: this little guy and his brother, or Portugal. Actually, scratch that. I know.
  • This place looks like a damn fairy tale.
  • Lunch with a view of the water, and some of the best seafood of my life.
  • The entire drive from Sintra to Lisbon looks like this. It's just miles of blue sky and rocky beaches.
  • No filter. This is just what Sintra looks like.
  • This street artist does amazing collages of animals from hunks of discarded plastic he collects (part of an effort to raise awareness about some of the most vulnerable victims of pollution). They're all over Lisbon, but we managed to get a close up view of this one.
  • Thousand watt smile on the little dude, and I am done.
  • Those eyes though.

All Over The Place

Buy my book and I promise I'll never ask you for anything again.

BE AWESOME. BUY IT.