Well, how did I get here?

Posted on
Nov 11, 2009
Posted in: Random Musings

You may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
You may find yourself in another part of the world
You may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
You may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife
You may ask yourself: well… how did I get here?

I know, I know – this is the second post in a very short span of time that has addressed my ever-changing financial situation, and I apologize for that. I suppose I’m having a bit of crisis of conscience. I am the sort of girl who clips coupons. Who shops at the Goodwill. Who doesn’t order wine with dinner (because, seriously, have you seen the markup on most bottles? That’s how restaurants make their money). I am not, say, the sort of person who flies business class to London. And yet, there we were, and I had to pretend that I belonged there. Rand seemed to have an easier time of it.

Sadly, he was disappointed with his poached salmon.

Sadly, he was disappointed with his poached salmon.

I, on the other hand, wanted to start maniacally thanking everyone, and slipping fivers into the flight attendants’ pockets. I wanted people to think I belonged there. That’s the funny thing about economy (when, by the way, did we stop calling it coach?) – as miserable as it is, it’s where I’m comfortable. And yet, and yet, and yet …

Whenever I do fly economy, which is, roughly, 99% of the time, I always look up at first class and think, someday. Someday I will travel enough to earn status on an airline. Someday I will have enough of a budget for travel that I can justify the cost of that ticket. But even then … I’m not entirely sure I would.

I remember once saving up my money to buy a pair of Guess jeans – I must have been 11 or so. And these jeans were the astronomical price of $40. But I wanted them so, so badly. Finally, when I had enough saved up, my mom took me to the mall. And as I stood there, staring at them in their faded glory, the triangular logo on the back, I realized they weren’t that special. And I walked away with my $40, leaving the jeans swaying back and forth on their clothes hanger.

Because back then, it just didn’t seem worth it. But $40 on tuna tatar with caviar and quail egg? That’s kind of another story, right?

This is what liberals eat. And its AWESOME.

This is what liberals eat. And it's AWESOME.

I don’t suppose there’s any resolution to this. I just don’t want to lose perspective on things. I don’t want to forget how infinitely lucky I am. It’s just hard not to look around and wonder whose life you’re living.

You may ask yourself: well… how did I get here?

I’m not entirely sure … but I think he’s probably somewhat to blame:

Oh, sorry - did the lighthouse-like brightness of my camera flash wake you?

Oh, sorry - did the lighthouse-like brightness of my camera flash wake you?

One thing is for sure: there are far, far worse problems to have.

Leave a Comment

  • Love the tie-in with the Talking Heads lyrics – love them too.

    The trick to feeling comfortable up front is a) dress up just a teensy little bit (wear your NICE sweats and some jewelry), and b) act like you fly up front ALL the time and it BORES you now.

    Oh and be SURE to order cocktails like you OWN the whole plane.

    Way to go, girlfriend!

  • Geraldine

    Phew – okay, apparently I was doing the right thing then. Got a cocktail, kicked off my knee-high boots, and lounged around in my black mini dress like I had done it a thousand times before.

  • Hate to spoil it for everyone, but we only flew business class because the tickets were 2 for 1. It may be luxury, but it’s still discount luxury (like finding that dress you almost paid full price for at Nordstrom Rack) 🙂

    • Geraldine

      Quiet, minion.

More from The Blog

On Instagram @theeverywhereist

  • I first met Chad around the time I had brain surgery. He'd just gone through the same experience with a very different diagnosis. He went on to have SIX more brain surgeries and was part of a litany of clinical trials for his brain cancer. Through it all he was funny and brash and so painfully honest about his experience. He was also instrumental in helping me finish my book - I sent Chad a chapter every month while working on my manuscript. He joked that I'd enlisted a dying man to help me meet my deadline. I hadn't emailed him in months, and just found out today that he passed away right before Christmas. It was a long time coming, but I am still blindsided by the loss.
...
Goodbye you wonderful, brilliant, exuberant asshole. I knew you'd break my heart.
  • Thirty-three years later, and she's still my hero. One year later, and I still miss her. #PrincessLeia #CarrieFisher #CarrieOn
  • Same house. Same nieces. A decade later. (My heart hurts.)
  • My New Yorker piece spoofing Lin-Manuel Miranda went up, and he saw it. So today was pretty neat.
  • Her name is Pippin but I call her Porkchop.
  • He asked me if this photo of him as a kid looked like him.
...
Me: Hold on. (Scribbles on phone.) Yes. Now it does.
  • Downtown Flemington is obviously haunted but still super charming.
  • I can't deal with this. #toocute #babytequila
  • Philadelphia in the snow is breaking my heart.
. . . . 
#snow #Philadelphia #independencemall
  • Finally got to meet Niko. This is the closest I came to getting a clear shot of the little squirmer.

All Over The Place

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

BE AWESOME. BUY IT.