Coming back from California was fun. We had a delayed flight that rerouted us to fly into Baton Rouge. There was turbulence. Enough to scare me a bit. My row mate showed me where the barf bag was because I looked "pale"
Until that part in the flight, I thought I was doing okay. I guess not. I vividly remember how small the airport was. I remember being confused why we had to walk outside and not in " the tube" to get in the airport. The most vivid detail I remember ? The HOT HUMID AIR THAT HIT ME IN THE FACE WHEN I STEPPED OFF THAT PLANE and the BIG POOFY HAIR THAT WAS A RESULT. It was terrible. The air felt so thick. I wanted to get back on that plane and go back to California. It was cooler. Bigger. More exciting. And I like my hair better! I don't remember the ride home. I do remember the excitement filling me to tell my grandmother every detail about the trip. She was ready for me-- waiting to hear all about it. I shared every detail. From the feeling of panic in the airport before leaving to the new friends I made that were Jewish and had traveled to Africa. She just listened. Like she always did. Asked a few questions. Smiled at my excitement. And then she said " did you know that my family is from the Canary Islands?" That was the moment that changed my direction in life. I was hooked. I needed to travel. I needed to experience the world. I needed to learn about other people, cultures and ways of life. I was 14 years old and had no idea that my own children would share the same excitement about the world. All because I chose the plane ticket-- I can share the world's playground with them. In the end, it's not about the money, the status, or the fame. It's about the experiences we have and the people we share them with. It's about the memories that we create and the impact that we make on the world around us. So go out there, choose your adventure, and make it count. Yours in flight Brandi
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I wasn't in California. I wasn't in America. I had to be in a foreign country, right?
But which country? Somewhere in Asia? Lots of people were speaking an Asian language. Mexico? So many were speaking Spanish. France? I hear French too. I didn't hear anyone speaking English ( I am sure there were!) I was in California. I was in America. I was not in a foreign language. I was the oddball. I was the one who was different. I was the one who felt lost in a big world. I loved it. I felt overwhelmed with curiosity. My brain wanted to know everything it could be everyone it encountered. So many thoughts running through my head. I remember riding on a bus to the Anaheim Convention Center and being shocked at how many cars, how many people and just how fast everything was moving. Walking along the streets near the convention center was the first time I ever felt how small I was in the world. I looked up the entire time I walked. Probably almost ran into others a few times, but I didn't care I was in California. Small town Louisiana girl visiting a big city. Tomorrow I'll share my first experience with Disney and the friends I met on the trip. P.S. this is the exact building I was envisioning in my head when thinking about the first time I walked down those bg streets--- and up popped this image when I did a search-- suddenly, it doesn't feel so big after all! |
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