"You can't take a picture of this. It's already gone."

Friday, June 13, 2014

I hate this but I also kinda like it? I need to write more and work on it...

When I went to Vegas, it was the lights and the flying that got me. I'd never been on a plane before and I was terrified out of my mind even though I'd been assured by friends and family that even turbulence was highly unlikely. Clearly these people still don't know me, as it took me a day to get over the one roller coaster I've ever been on, and it was a small one.

Once I was in the air, I calmed down after about 30 minutes. It was the slow rumble along the runway and the feeling that we were preparing to be launched that slowly turned me into a barnacle on my best friends arm, so my thoughts of "Oh god, oh god, we're all gonna die!" were interspersed with "please please don't let me crush her tiny wrists." Going up was terrifying. I'm not a fan of the feeling. When we were drawn up on that singular roller coaster I rode, I could feel every warning my mother has ever said to me watching me, looming over me. Multiply that by ten on the airplane. Mostly I just felt bad for the people around me. It's hard watching someone trying to repress some high levels of fear and just sit quietly. Personally, I was trying not to burst into some kind of wild laughter. I doubt there will ever be a moment where planes and I are friends. I don't think my suspension of reality is good enough to deal with giant metal things flying through the air.

Anyway, the moral of this pointless, rambling story is that there is no moral. I was scared of the plane, the trip, what I was going to do, if I was going to run out of money and I still had an awesome time. I would still go back and this time, I would pack lots of shorts and drink more and never ever see the goddamn blue man group ever again. Fuck those guys. Seriously. Also, sandstorms are scary and so is running through shin deep dark water in the streets, but you can always tell who is from Houston, because we are the ones running through it like we don't give a fuck. It's terrifying. Everyone on the plane back talked about how it was like our pointless asshole weather followed us to Vegas. I sat next to a guy who told me everything about the wedding he dropped everything and went to because his friends were eloping. Everyone on the plane was in a good mood.

Mostly it reminded me that I can spend days on end with my friends and not get tired of them. That they love me even when they are looking at me like I'm a little odd and when I'm terrified of cars.

But seriously though, they all walk REALLY fast. We need to work on that.

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