There’s No Place Like Home, There’s No Place Like Home
Man oh man, yesterday at gate B20 at McCarran airport, I was clanking my ruby slippers together so hard the sparkles fell off.
No worries, nothing a little love from a glue gun can’t fix.
I love to travel, I always have. Ok, I’m not some big international world traveler, I’ll admit. I’m mainly a domestic flight gal, but still, I manage to travel maybe three to four times a year, usually for fun to see friends and family.
The adventure is always worth the price of admission. Even going to somewhere I know well, it gives me a chance to break out of my routine, get out of my head, and be different.
The best road trips are when I feel like I’m a different person by the time I come back home…meaning, I’ve grown or learned more about myself along the way.
My recent travel was one of those sorts of trips. I won’t share all the ins and outs and what-have-yous about the epiphany I had in front of a quarter slot machine at the Four Queens casino, but suffice to say, there was one…and it was good.
Sometimes getting out of my non-thinking monotonous routine and into “hey, where am I staying and where are my bags and where am I going to have something to eat?” is entirely exhausting.
And my god air travel wears me slick. Could people *be* any ruder when flying?
By the time we made our way to our happy little casa last night, I was beat. I mean, so tired, I was damn near catatonic.
But as Annie says in Bull Durham, “Total exhaustion can be spiritually fabulous.”
So as tired as I was, as happy as I was to sink into my bed and let the sandman have his way with me, at 4:30 this morning, my eyes were open and the brain was rolling.
Ideas. Lots of them. Flowing like, well, coins from a slot machine after hitting double-double-double on the payline.
At first I fought it. Rolled over and begged for sleep to come back.
Then I thought…why? How often am I blessed with a fire hose blast from The Muse? Why pinch off the ideas? Hell no, let ’em flow.
So since 4:30 this morning, I’ve been cranking away at the iMac. I mean CRANKING the whole time. And damn if I didn’t get a LOT accomplished (not the least of which was cropping and uploading my new profile photo…take a gander to the left and you’ll find it.)
So now, some four hours later, my eyes are burning, I’m a little shaky, and I may need a nap today. But mostly, I’m happy.
While travel is fun, and for this old musty brain, might just be essential, at the end of the day, there really is no place like home.
I love this photo of you! Wonderful smile!
I used to have to travel as part of my work. Every Thursday, every ding-dang-dong Thursday, I had to be at the airport at 6 (up at 4) and didn't get home until 10 at night. I hated Thursdays.
Where was I going?
I rarely went to the strip as I was working at Boulevard Mall. Dealing with hiring, training, and managing ppl in Las Vegas was one of the weirdest experiences of my management career. Whole different animal. Everyone had an angle and, man, they all worked it!
However, I flew so much that I ALWAYS got upgraded (and totally related with George Clooney in Up in the Air regarding how to work the upgrades!) and flew first class to most destinations. THAT was worth it! Also, that afforded me the time to read and, read I did… I miss that part. I do not miss the rudeness. It is no wonder we are diverting and landing planes due to unruly passengers in the age of underpants bombs. Heh!
Glad you got your muse on!!
I hate air travel, too. I keep wishing some company would ante up and bring the airship back. It takes longer, but there is room to be civilized, eat at a table, sleep in a bed, etc. Or so I've read from before the Hindenburg disaster.
The wife & I travel a lot by train. Sleeper cars are not quite as spacious as I'd like, but still, nicer than flying. I wish I always had the time to travel that way.