Note: I realize that the title of this entry is grammatically … problematic. But I’m crazy tired and really, really jet-lagged. 

Last week, when working on this post, I wasn’t all that surprised to find that most eponymous airports are named after aviation pioneers and politicians (the vast majority of whom were men). But I soon discovered a handful of airports that were named for a rather unexpected bunch. Celebrities, musicians, and the occasional hero of Sherwood Forest. And they were all just too great to keep to myself.

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It’s Friday! I have a crapload of things to do, and thanks to the success of yesterday’s post, I now have an inbox full of requests to guest blog (I CAN’T TELL WHO IS JOKING AND WHO ISN’T ANYMORE). While I try to tackle the insurmountable task that is my email, you enjoy these links.

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My friend Pam wrote a compelling, compassionate peace about when, as travelers, we should speak up, and when we should be quiet.

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It’s National Puppy Day! Time to consider adopting a shelter dog (be they puppies, or simply puppies at heart). Or, if unexpectedly bringing home a dog would cause your husband to lose his shit because “OMG WE ARE NEVER HOME AND WHO IS GOING TO WATCH IT AND YOU DON’T EVEN REALLY LIKE DOGS”, then why not make a donation to your local animal shelter?

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I am at it again. Spending way too much time replying to spammy requests for guests posts or ads. Apparently I haven’t made it clear enough here or here.

 

This time, I’ve started including photos and graphics in my replies, which I think is a nice touch. It really tells these people who haven’t bothered to read a single word on my site that I care. Because anyone can tell them to fuck off. But me? I take that extra step to confuse them.

While I was answering these emails, my husband’s reaction was as follows:

“Baby … what?”

“I don’t know if this is the best way to spend an afternoon.”

“Shouldn’t you be working on your book?”

“Is that my shirt?”

And the answer to all of these questions is a resounding “MAYBE.”

Here’s the third installment of this series. Earlier blog posts can be found here and here.

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The motivation for this post begins nearly a decade ago, which is kind of amazing, if you think about it, because Rand and I were very much a couple, even then.

Back when we were these people.

 

Can you imagine being with someone for more than a whole decade? It’s pure madness, and not at all the point of this post.

Anywho, it was ten years ago or so, and Rand and I were in a teeny tiny one-bedroom in North Seattle trying this newfangled service called Netflix. I was going through a phase where, for reasons that still sort of make sense to me now, I refused to watch any movie that didn’t star Cary Grant.

I’m sure you’ll agree: that was a reasonable and somewhat noble demand on my part.

So Rand went through Netflix’s entire library and queued up practically all of Cary Grant’s canon. It was wonderful, particularly when the 20-something iteration of the man I later married would drop a quote into casual conversation.

“Hasn’t it occurred to you that I’m having a tough time keeping my hands off you?”

Cue lots and lots of swooning. (more…)