So here we are, my pets, sitting in the airport, ready for my journey to Vegas with Colleen and the boys. It's been a while since I have flown, actually. My most recent time was spent finishing up my last "project," and travel was largely out of he question.
Anywho, Colleen was set to leave from Dulles on a direct flight, and I was set to fly out of BWI. Paul and Rob were flying in from LA yesterday after their (get this) pre-hiatus diversion in Cabo. (Must be freakin' nice.)
So today as I ventured back into flying and did a little people watching, I soon realized that when people switch into travel mode, they turn into something different — a sort of travel doppleganger that really doesn't reflect who that person is. I'm guilty, of course, with my bespoke sport shirt and fashion, all-white sunglasses (worn indoors, of course). I'm sporting my mechanical Armani watch (I NEVER wear watches), and have unbuttoned my second button on my shirt — sassy just doesn't describe. But I digress...
I look around at the 50-year-old, over-tanned grandpa wearing Hollister clothes, and notice that even the sleeping tree hugger splay out on the bench has switched out her Birkenstocks for a sporty pair of Pumas. It was only the beginning, I guessed.
By the time I got to BWI, I learned that Colleen had been "detained" by TSA and delivered to the Police (as I understood it). Yes, the fun had begun, it seems. It appears even her doppleganger had reared its ugly head. I couldn't get all the details, but I'm sure it is worth the wait until I make it to Vegas.
Anyway, I made it to my connection in Charlotte with a little time to spare, and I thought, "how could I be in NC at lunchtime, and not get a NC BBQ sandwich??" (It is, after all, my favorite food...EVER.) My home state has changed so much since my childhood, but I could always count on good ol' NC BBQ pork. So, I stood in line at Siler City BBQ, and salivated my turn.
NC BBQ, you see, (to be authentic) must have the following qualities:
1) It must be CHOPPED (not pulled or sliced)
2) It must be pork
3) It must be served in a vinegar-based sauce, not a sweet sauce - we are NOT in Tennessee.
4) It is, by default, served with coleslaw, heavy on the mayo
5) To be TRULY authentic, it must include a type of cornbread that most of the country refers to as "hushpuppies," but in Eastern NC, true swampland natives call it "corn dodgers," and the cornmeal will include onions.
All of the above was present, except for #1 and #3 — the two most important. The mofos had the audacity to serve it pulled and with a sweet ketchup-like sauce. I actually complained to the manager, who happened to be the owner. He was a yankee. (I think he actually HEARD my eyes roll.) Yet again, a doppleganger on a trip away from home, trying to be someone he wasn't. I just sighed and moved on to gate B3. It just wasn't worth the effort.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
Watch that first step, it's a doosey!
Well, my pets — it has been a long 4-ish years since my departure from the District, and a huge amount of "stuff" has occurred. Back in early 2007, I took a long, hard look at my life and started a critical analysis of my life's direction. I had a decent job, I had a home in a great location, I had some money saved up and invested, I had friends who were close to me, and I had a slow, but steady love life. But, something was gnawing at me, and inwardly, I was a bitter, challenged 30-something that had no real place to go. I was, in a word, stagnant.
For those of you that know me, stagnant is not the word most folks would use to describe me. Outwardly, I was restless, motivated and driven, but inwardly I was lonely, frustrated and quick to judge. I knew something needed to change, I just wasn't sure what.
What I did know was that some of the mundane things about DC life were driving me to insanity, and I longed for some space to spread my wings. The things I loved about DC were becoming outweighed by the few things I hated. I couldn't see the forest for the trees, and my frustration was turning me into a rather mean person.
In October of that year, I started working with a personal trainer and turning my physical life around. I met someone who distracted me from DC and introduced me to the possibility of a life away from what I felt was making me the mean person I was becoming. With a new body and a renewed sense of self, I went out of my comfort zone and gave up my home, friends and social circle in DC and moved to Maryland. I put my trust and money into a life I hoped would last, despite all the signs and friends who told me it wouldn't (stubbornness is a trait). Two years later, it all ended - and with a great deal of bitterness on many fronts. I had emptied my savings while living a lie of happiness that I refused to admit, and I hated myself for it. At the end of that whole episode, I had no one to blame but myself. But, if there was anything I could learn from this experience was how to take a giant leap of faith — a giant first step of trust, hoping that the ground was solid when I landed. I also learned what to do when the ground wasn't as solid as I thought...
Anyway, I still wasn't going to give up on the dreams I had left, and with no money to go back to DC, I took another blind step and bought a house in Maryland. This new adventure would afford me the opportunity to start my music studio and other goals I had for myself. At that time, though, I had gained significant weight, and was feeling mentally and physically defeated. I needed something to focus my attention.
So, I turned to my life-long passion to start my own business. I had always wanted to start a wellness center and wanted to start training myself, first, to see if that field was really what I wanted to do. At a minimum, I would learn a trade that I could fall back on if things got dicey. I started massage therapy school.
That was a year ago, and I have to say it has been one long and stressful year. A full-time job, a commute, and full-time school has been very tough. But in two days I graduate, and I plan to celebrate — not at the graduation ceremony, but with a drink and dinner with two people who have supported me through this process.
A couple months ago, I was introduced to the possibility of franchising a business. I would almost instantly be able to meet my ambitious goal of owning my business. But the more I thought about it, and the more they told me the financial requirements, I'm not sure it is right for me. I would lose my identity, and take another leap of faith that, like the others, would strip me of what makes me, me.
The best thing for me, now, is to refocus. I have taken enough blind steps. What would make me happy? What would help me re-establish myself financially? Do I want instant gratification or long-term stability? My next step, my friends, might appear drastic, but I guarantee you it will not be a doosey.
For those of you that know me, stagnant is not the word most folks would use to describe me. Outwardly, I was restless, motivated and driven, but inwardly I was lonely, frustrated and quick to judge. I knew something needed to change, I just wasn't sure what.
What I did know was that some of the mundane things about DC life were driving me to insanity, and I longed for some space to spread my wings. The things I loved about DC were becoming outweighed by the few things I hated. I couldn't see the forest for the trees, and my frustration was turning me into a rather mean person.
In October of that year, I started working with a personal trainer and turning my physical life around. I met someone who distracted me from DC and introduced me to the possibility of a life away from what I felt was making me the mean person I was becoming. With a new body and a renewed sense of self, I went out of my comfort zone and gave up my home, friends and social circle in DC and moved to Maryland. I put my trust and money into a life I hoped would last, despite all the signs and friends who told me it wouldn't (stubbornness is a trait). Two years later, it all ended - and with a great deal of bitterness on many fronts. I had emptied my savings while living a lie of happiness that I refused to admit, and I hated myself for it. At the end of that whole episode, I had no one to blame but myself. But, if there was anything I could learn from this experience was how to take a giant leap of faith — a giant first step of trust, hoping that the ground was solid when I landed. I also learned what to do when the ground wasn't as solid as I thought...
Anyway, I still wasn't going to give up on the dreams I had left, and with no money to go back to DC, I took another blind step and bought a house in Maryland. This new adventure would afford me the opportunity to start my music studio and other goals I had for myself. At that time, though, I had gained significant weight, and was feeling mentally and physically defeated. I needed something to focus my attention.
So, I turned to my life-long passion to start my own business. I had always wanted to start a wellness center and wanted to start training myself, first, to see if that field was really what I wanted to do. At a minimum, I would learn a trade that I could fall back on if things got dicey. I started massage therapy school.
That was a year ago, and I have to say it has been one long and stressful year. A full-time job, a commute, and full-time school has been very tough. But in two days I graduate, and I plan to celebrate — not at the graduation ceremony, but with a drink and dinner with two people who have supported me through this process.
A couple months ago, I was introduced to the possibility of franchising a business. I would almost instantly be able to meet my ambitious goal of owning my business. But the more I thought about it, and the more they told me the financial requirements, I'm not sure it is right for me. I would lose my identity, and take another leap of faith that, like the others, would strip me of what makes me, me.
The best thing for me, now, is to refocus. I have taken enough blind steps. What would make me happy? What would help me re-establish myself financially? Do I want instant gratification or long-term stability? My next step, my friends, might appear drastic, but I guarantee you it will not be a doosey.
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