Apparently in the event of an emergency, all ballerinas on board are required to show off.
I think this describes my general feelings about traveling alone across the country (not to mention going through airport security). Continuous low-level anxiety, paired with confusion, worry, a side helping of desperately faked confidence, and a dash of boredom to top it off.
So I just found out that there may be a school organized academic trip to England this summer, to see John Wesley’s house and other Methodist-y things.
As in the country.
The United Kingdom, people.
It still hasn’t been announced when it will be, or how much it is, but…
I HAVE NEVER WANTED TO GO ON A TRIP SO BAD IN MY LIFE.
I need a passport.
I need money and I need a passport.
This morning I boarded a train in Michigan, and as we were getting ready to leave the station there were several people on the platform saying their goodbye’s and waving to their loved ones through the windows of the train. In particular, a young man was on the platform waving goodbye to the girl sitting behind me.
When the train started moving, the conductor that was standing near the entryway yelled, “Run, boy! Run!” And the young man began to run alongside the moving train, as fast as he could, all the while still waving at the girl with a big smile on his face. Eventually, the platform came to an end and he had to abandon his pursuit, but not before he blew a last minute kiss in the direction of the girl.
By the time the conductor came by to take our tickets, the girl had already been quietly crying in her seat behind me.
"Was that your running boy?" asked the conductor.
"Yup." said the girl, timidly.
"Well, he ran after you, didn’t he?"
"Right," replied the girl.
"Don’t worry," said the conductor, "nothing can keep you two kids apart."
"Right" said the sniffling girl.