I feel pretty, but unpretty.

That was a fun adventure.  I went to the park, since the weather is so pretty and everyone in the world is outside.  And who do I run into but Marietta!  We had a really lovely conversation and caught up a little on each others' lives.  She lives right around the corner from me (by which I mean like, six avenues and seven streets over, but I digress, we're in the same neighborhood); it's a little funny because I was just asking Helen on Wednesday if she knew what neighborhood Marietta was in (Helen's response was, "...Brooklyn?").  Small, random world.

My flight in was a bit tumultuous; there was some issue with my ticket - because I changed flights, JetBlue charged a rebooking fee and they said the payment didn't go through.  Well, this was one of those times where technology is a blessed thing, and I pulled up my bank statement on my iPhone and said, "Oh hell no, that $115 went through, bitches!" (Minus the "bitches."  And the "hell, no.")  I even waved my iPhone around to prove I was right (not sure how that actually proved anything, to be honest, but it felt like an appropriate gesture of irritation).  And then I gave them the transaction number and that squared everything away.

So then I went through security (they didn't do the weird hand wiping thing, I noticed.  Mildly disappointed.  I'd like to think they're checking me for sweaty palms and I pass the test.  "Yes ma'am, you are sufficiently not too clammy for this flight.") and got on the plane and that was all fine and good.  And the flight was fine too, except for the part where we were literally just about to land and the plane suddenly tipped up and started ascending again.  Of course, everyone in the cabin began murmuring nervously and looking out the window in confusion.  A moment later the flight attendant came over the PA and said, "Well, for those of you who have never experienced this before, I think we're doing a go-around...but I, uh, have no idea why."   Oh great, that's great.  For some reason unseen to us we can't land the plane.  This elicits more murmuring and the flight attendant hurriedly adds, "But there's no cause for alarm!"

A few minutes later the pilot comes over the system and elaborates, "Well, AirTran is taking its good sweet time getting their planes off the runway!"  Well, excellent.  There wasn't a huge plane crash just before our landing, or a terrorist attack, or something.  It was just AirTran.  Nicely done, guys.  Way to be.

**


So, I'm back in Brooklyn.

I remember those first weeks at UNCG, right after I transferred and I was working on Sweeney Todd as an electrician.  I remember before each work call I would sit in the women's bathroom and steel myself - I kept repeating, "This is where you live now and this is where you work now and you have to make this work.  This is your home now."  And sometime in my second semester it all clicked and I made it work.

I can cite a million things instances like that.  Things always somehow work out, but I worry them to death until they do.  It's just who I am.  I'm hoping to grow out of my tendency to freak out any day now.