Travel Observations

Airports are strange places, people interacting with people that most likely they will never come across again. Through my experience as a creepster people watcher I've divided travelers up into three groups. The chatters, the fake polite, and the group of mismatched individuals- the silent travelers.

The chatters are people who fascinate me. They share details of their lives with people that they will most likely never come across again. And not details of trivial things like favorite tv shows, but of things like birthdays, memories, life plans. It completely baffles me that people are willing to share these intimate details with someone that they have 1) a 1 in I don't know how many chance that they will ever come across again, and 2) let alone remember. Not to mention that I have this complete skepticism of the chatting traveler, who's to know if the business man sitting in the row behind me really flew in from china this morning or if he is a middle school teacher, tired of the day to day and wanting to spice up his boring trip to a teacher conference.

The fake polite people are the ones that will answer questions politely with one word answers then politely put their head down in their book, or slide their headphones into their ears as to say please let me be. But the fake polite people that have taken to the skies as of recently are the flight attendants -now maybe it was just the last flight that I was on, and these woman had been having a rough day... But to me their job is to be helpful, respectful of the passenger, polite (even if it is just a nice considerate fake polite), and other traits of people who work in the service industry. They should not be rude, condescending, and short with the passengers. For example when a mother of two young restless children gets up to take them to the bathroom in the midst of some light turbulence, instead of saying "you're really going to get up now?!" Should say were having some turbulence, do you think they can hold it for a little bit? Or when a passenger holds his hand up to stop a flight attendant to ask a question and starts to say excuse me-they interrupt and say "I'm going to go make an announcement" how did she know what his question was going to be? Now granted she's been up in the sky a lot longer and a lot more than I have but if that gives you the ability to read minds... Sign me up! Now this has not been my experience with all flight attendants- on my short hop over to phoenix we had two characters as our flight attendants- comedians would better describe them. Which is fine by me! Talking to each other over the loud speaker, telling jokes to which passengers would yell out the punch lines making the already short 45 minute flight feel like 5. But once again, maybe this is just their routine to keep them entertained from their numerous flights throughout the day, but to me they encompass the fake polite characteristics, entertaining themselves with the passengers being entertained as an added bonus.

Now the mismatch group contains people like me. The silent travelers. Their either silent because a) they are keeping to them selves and have no interest in what's going on around them- only in their final destination (where ever that may be). They keep their heads down and involve them selves with no one. Choosing rather to bury themselves in their book or magazine, ear phones in, isolating themselves from their fellow travelers. Now to the b's) the people like me, also a silent traveler, but an observer. Watching everything and everyone around us. The traveling world had evolved tremendously in the past years. I've heard the romantic stories of air travel, people dressing up traveling with trunks and fancy luggage. And I know that things have had to change with world events, checking luggage is now not only a convenience but a necessity since air travel has become over priced, but the clothes that people wear while traveling now are ridiculous! I'm the biggest supporter of fuzzy slippers there is, even rocking them to the supermarket- but to the airport? That's overboard, and the sponge bob pajama bottoms? really sir? You're approximately mid 40's, it may be time to get rid of the cartoon character clothing. My favorite thing about airports however, is when something is so captivating- like the woman with the "Rachel" hairdo is discussing her relationship with a man named Jim on her phone, telling him quite loudly that he knew she loved him, that she misses him, that the past few months have been really hard with out him by her side - and that perhaps they can come up with a code when she calls, like call hang up call and hang up again then wait for him to call her back. And in the midst of this situation- you look up and see a fellow creepster people watcher observing the same situation that you are- you catch eyes, and smile a smile that says... Hello fellow watcher, you're watching this situation, I'm watching this situation- let's not judge each other or this situation that's happening before us, have a good trip.

And that's it. Air travel observation from a creepster people watcher.

(please excuse my horrible bb pics, hopefully I'll get better soon at taking non-intrusive creepster observation pics)

Bagel Shop Observations

Bagel shop observations of the day: aka observations from a creepster people watcher:

¨ familiar table of senior citizens sitting and chatting away the morning hours- all with free refill cups of coffee
¨father sitting with his three kids- taking them into school later after special breakfast
¨older gent sitting by himself with a HUGE college sort of ring that has a massive diamond in the center of it daintily tapping at an iphone
¨fashionista high school aged girl dressed in short short shorts with the only redeemable part of her outfit being her purple american apparel sweat shirt
¨kid that I went to high school with that back in the day had a massive white boy fro, taking payment for bagels
¨ super gwaky man in his mid to late 30's driving up in a mazda sports car breakfasting with wife daughter and perhaps mother (and in law)
¨group of moms and preschool aged kids eating breakfast of champs (fruit cups for them bagels for the kids)

sore sore sore

Sore. Sore. Sore.
So I mentioned in passing to the big bro that I wanted to start lifting weights and what does he do? He immediately asks his coworker (who by the way is a hostage rescue team member in training) to come up with a plan for me.
A few days ago we started lifting... and it has been a LONG time since I've felt this sore.
But I do miss the feeling... growing up every Sunday I would feel sore after Saturday swim practices... but that would generally go away after a day. With lifting with the bro I was sore for four days... pain in the behind (literally and figuratively)! This morning I lifted for the first time by myself at the gym... and let me tell you... there are WEIRD people there in the am! Creepy old men who are trying to lift as much as the younger meat heads but who can hardly lift the bar... Single fathers who pick their kids up from where I work wearing little tank tops and tight pants.... AWKWARD!

έχουν ένα καλό υπόλοιπο

After meeting some of her long time friends at her wake, I finally realized part of what I've always been told is true... I am almost exactly like my Yiayia (and I hope that I will always be).

Her wedding picture was up, and her greek girlfriends rearranged the chairs in the room to surround her and it. They were crying, talking, crying, talking, pointing, turning around to look at me and my father, gossiping, laughing, crying, talking, crying, talking, pointing, turning around to look at me, gossiping, laughing, crying and repeating the cycle again and again. After about the fifth time, I finally asked my father what they were saying, and it was "you look exactly like Yiayia".
It was something that I was always told but never saw myself... perhaps because I was too close to the situation, or because at the point where I finally started to look her hunched stature and gravity had made it a little to difficult for me to see the resemblance. But there, in that room, looking at her wedding picture I saw the resemblance, and I realized that I want the resemblance to go further than just our looks.
I was told things about my Yia Yia, things that I knew, like that she loved to have people around her and to talk for what seemed like forever. And things that I didn't know, like that she had a way of talking to people, listening to them, and remembering facts about them that nobody knew she retained. Her friends would be shocked when she called up two weeks later to make sure that doctors appointment of their nephew went ok. Information, and tidbits that her friends and nurses wouldn't remember telling her about, but her remembering specific details. She genuinely cared about not only these select few people that came religiously in the last few years to her home bound side, but about everyone that she was connected to- even if it was in the smallest way, like the pharmacist who she had never met. She not only cared about these people but they cared about her. She had a spark, and energy about her that caused people to genuiely carea bout her has well. Like that pharmasist, who she had never met face to face had expressed heartfelt concern and sympathy for our family's loss.
That is the part of her that I hope I will inheret or at least learn how to become, to care not only about my family and friends, but to care about every person that I come across in my life. I want to have that spark that she had, that enabled people to open up to her and get to know them, in a way that not many people do.
So from this trip that was meant to say have a good rest Yiayia, I left with more, a desire to be like her, not only in looks, but in heart, mind, and soul.

That is my hope. To be like my Yiayia, in more ways than one.

έχουν μια καλή Yia Yia ανάπαυσης (have a good rest Yiayia) you deserve it.


comparison photo will be posted soon.

all the things that i miss dearly in this season named fall

changing leaves,
the crunch crunch crunch sound when you walk
scarves and sweatshirts
bundling
soups
apple cider (both hot and cold)

pumpkins
boots
gathering in living rooms watching new seasons of favorite shows
apple cranberry bread
the clear crisp cold air
new classes school supplies etc (I'm sure i will not be missing this one as time goes on)

one week (plus a day) anniversary

As of today it is officially a week and a day since i made the drive down to mi casa arizona. And as a memory of this anniversary here are some pictures that were taken on the last few nights in belli and the drive down.

































As of today it is officially a week and a day since i made the drive down to mi casa arizona. And as a memory of this anniversary here are some pictures that were taken on the last night in belli and the drive down.

the question and the answer

So the question that has been on my mind since before I graduated college, since before I had my last year as a student, finally has an answer. I will be moving back to Tucson at the end of August. I've accepted this. There are no tears as this post is written, its not the end of Seattle and Washington, Its just a fly over. You know when you're on a plane trip and there is a storm where you're supposed to be arriving, well my storm is this recession, my plane is now being deferred back to the always sunny skies of Tucson Arizona. It would beyond stupid for me not to take the situation that was presented to me yesterday.
I will have a full time job, benefits, and vacation time, something that is very rare in this struggling economy. Not to mention that paying rent, and bills would not be hanging on my shoulders, something that I am not yet ready (as much as I'd like to say over and over that I am) I will be able to save lots and be able to leave blank checks made out to my ever supporting parents on the kitchen counter and be able to get those text messages calling me silly and unnecessary, and knowing that I'm not silly because I'm a 21 year old adult who needs to be helping. I will be able to bug my older brother, who will now if he doesn't answer my phone calls expect an arrival on his front steps from his frustrated younger sister. I will be able to bake, and cook all these recipes that I long to make knowing that my mom has all the absurd ingredients that they call for. I will be able to see my puppy, who I have been pushing out of my mind because I miss him so dearly. I will be able to finally see all these so called changes that my mom has made to the house. Ever time I talk to her she tells me that she has been on the phone with a new contractor so so&so is coming to the house, and see what she refuses to tell me what she's done.

I will miss Washington and its so very special residents with all of my heart, but I know that I will be back, and this stupid fly-over is not going to last, I will make it back to my destination.
Love,
Me.

mixed emotions

well i'm gunna put my interpersonal relationship classes (yes that's plural! i took two this quarter) to good use and label the emotions that are going through my head right now.
anxious of the whole no job situation
impatient for Friday
optimistic in search for non profit employment
(in) awe of things my friends are doing (ie growing babies, venturing to new countries, tackling their battles, living, enjoying, cherishing, and embracing life and love and still surviving college!!
interest for Saturdays events
scared of the unknown
a zest for life
nervous for how my family will act
antsy about my capstone paper
pride for my friends and whats coming up next for them
longing for a new crush
gloomy that tomorrow is my last day with the tob-ster.
terrified of whats next
mirth at seeing the Teachman drive around in his astrovan
excited for adventures
amusement at what dinner with Richardson was like
thrilled of no more deadlines (for now)

grateful that i have 5 stable friendships that will always be there whenever i need them.

disneyland

all i need is a nudge and a wink in the right direction towards being an grownup cause otherwise it scares the living daylights out of me.

i love your enthausium

after an lord of the rings marathon this is what comes out of it...
1. gandolf the white is much more of a bad ass than gandolf the grey JUST because his robes changed to white
2. its middle earth, they HAD soap
3. if they didn't have soap the fuckin' wizards could have just conjured it
4. talking trees are ridiculously rad
5. oarks have jacked up faces cause they're born out of mud
6. golumn is a lil bitch
7. they messed up like 20 million towns all for a fuckin ring
8. frodo is a whiney lil bitch

curious

i have this really weird feeling right now.
its like i'm craving something.
but it has absolutely nothing to do with food.
it feels like i'm missing something.

thankful

I'm thankful for the amazing friends that i have, and for the families that they have that invite me to stay with them and invade their family holiday.
i have bomb friends. bomb.