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Kitten Heel Marvel Goes to the Airport.

17 Aug

1. Panic. I’m going to miss my flight. I’m going to be late. I’m going to miss my flight. I’m going to be late. (Note that I typically arrive at the airport several hours before I fly, so this panic is just anxiety. Ah, anxiety. My closest friend.)

2. Suitcase. Why did I overpack? Am I going on safari? Why is this bag so heavy? Do I need another bag? How much will they charge me for this thing? Will I fall to my death trying to get this thing on an escalator? (This problem would be solved, time and time again, if I packed judiciously and not like an undisciplined hyena. What, you didn’t know most hyenas were disciplined?)

3. Bathroom. What if I have to go to the bathroom? Don’t they know I loathe hate public restrooms? But what if I have to go? (I go now. They’re mostly clean. And my bladder thanks me.)


Happy flying to me.

Thoughts ‘n Things ‘n Chicken Wings

25 Feb

I needed a rhyme and chicken wings sounded good. The following has nothing to do with chicken. I think.

What is about a good song? A friend and I were chatting about that today–what differentiates a song from a really good song. In the end, for me, anyway, if I hear a song and marvel at how real or personal it is, then it’s a winner. Of course, there are plenty of tunes that have nothing to do with my life experience. Sometimes melody beats substance. But there are times when a song is just real and powerful and true.

I have been remiss. Somewheres, VA, is about a minute away from the nation’s capital, Washington, DC. In said nation’s capital sit rows and rows of ignored museums. I have not been inside a museum in 10 years. Seriously: in college, I spent many a weekend afternoon walking around the National Gallery of Art, the Corcoran, so on and so forth, taking in artwork and loving every second of it. I had time then, I had the desire, and I had an awesome art history class that required my trips to the city. Flash forward: I graduated in in the year 2000 (I miss you, Coco O’Brien), it’s 10 years later, and I haven’t stepped foot in a museum. Actually, during a trip to Paris some years ago, I spent a large amount of sweet time walking through the halls of the Louvre, frothing at the mouth and getting trampled by the elderly just to get a glimpse of the Mona Lisa. But is that fair? I live minutes away from museum life and I do nothing about it? So my new goal is to make time and prepare some artistic field trips in the near future. Meaning, likely, next weekend.

The snow is finally melting. What? Snow? Yes: two blizzards descended upon this part of town BACK to BACK, and it’s all finally melting. Will I complain about Blizzards 1.0 and 2.0? Nope. Best vacation ever. I’ve never been more in love with my comforter, my pillows, and my remote control. And yes, I even did some creative writing. Imagine that.

More thoughts and things and chicken wings later.



Sincerely, Taj

Dear World, I have stuff to say, so get cozy. Here, I've got cupcakes.

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