i like my room scattered with beer bottles, books, journals, and sunshine. 
with a cracked window and the only noise being tweet tweet, woof woof, and an airplane passing by.
i remember being little and in the manner of most children constantly changing the vision in my mind of what i wanted to "be" when i grew up. i think two of the professions that i pined for the most were of a flight attendant and a circus clown. neither of which i can yet add to my repertoire. there was a split second in my mind last summer, stranded outside of a greyhound station in charlottesville, virignia, chain-smoking rolled cigarettes with a groovy middle-aged trucker soul named dan, who had come to work a fair, during which i seriously contemplated saying fuck it and running off with the carnival.
but the split-second passed and the show went on.
i have learned after twenty-four years of life and over thirty jobs that two professions definitely NOT made for me are 1. slinging pork (which actually came as a shocker) and 2. selling five-hundred dollar pairs of shoes. otherwise its all up in the air.
i also remember as a child i spent years watching friends and what i loved most about it was the hundreds of scenes in "central perk". for whatever reason at that age my mind would wander off and i would dream about one day being old enough to hang out at a coffee shop in a big city wherever i pleased curled up on a couch sipping coffee from a mug as big as my head.
my parent's have never been coffee drinkers but when i was growing up they always had a jar of instant coffee in the pantry, just in case. and at about age nine or ten that jar of folger's instant is where it all began for me.
in my adult life i have spent a great deal of time with hardly any money at all. and a great deal of time drinking coffee all over the united states of america feeling merrily un-united and i have learned that no matter what, as long as my other half exists and i have enough money for a cup of coffee, i am invincible.
when i think about all of these things collectively i see that i turned out how i always wanted to "be".
despite the fact that i never set foot in a clown suit and prefer to travel by land,
so, however that is..
i've come to feel strongly over the years that justification (the apparent need to give, the desire for..) is one of the most exhausting and wide-spread struggles of humanity.
give it up and just be happy.
much left unsaid,
thank you, coffee. you hath awaken me. and i suppose that is your job after all.
i am going to stare out the window and contemplate the possibilities in melting a super-sized box of crayons. otherwise it seems to me a good night for yoga and thelonious monk and not a whole bunch else.
tiny spider performing tiny acrobatics on tiny web, swept away by wind,
to infinity and beyond.
<3 Rexx
with a cracked window and the only noise being tweet tweet, woof woof, and an airplane passing by.
i remember being little and in the manner of most children constantly changing the vision in my mind of what i wanted to "be" when i grew up. i think two of the professions that i pined for the most were of a flight attendant and a circus clown. neither of which i can yet add to my repertoire. there was a split second in my mind last summer, stranded outside of a greyhound station in charlottesville, virignia, chain-smoking rolled cigarettes with a groovy middle-aged trucker soul named dan, who had come to work a fair, during which i seriously contemplated saying fuck it and running off with the carnival.
but the split-second passed and the show went on.
i have learned after twenty-four years of life and over thirty jobs that two professions definitely NOT made for me are 1. slinging pork (which actually came as a shocker) and 2. selling five-hundred dollar pairs of shoes. otherwise its all up in the air.
i also remember as a child i spent years watching friends and what i loved most about it was the hundreds of scenes in "central perk". for whatever reason at that age my mind would wander off and i would dream about one day being old enough to hang out at a coffee shop in a big city wherever i pleased curled up on a couch sipping coffee from a mug as big as my head.
my parent's have never been coffee drinkers but when i was growing up they always had a jar of instant coffee in the pantry, just in case. and at about age nine or ten that jar of folger's instant is where it all began for me.
in my adult life i have spent a great deal of time with hardly any money at all. and a great deal of time drinking coffee all over the united states of america feeling merrily un-united and i have learned that no matter what, as long as my other half exists and i have enough money for a cup of coffee, i am invincible.
when i think about all of these things collectively i see that i turned out how i always wanted to "be".
despite the fact that i never set foot in a clown suit and prefer to travel by land,
so, however that is..
i've come to feel strongly over the years that justification (the apparent need to give, the desire for..) is one of the most exhausting and wide-spread struggles of humanity.
give it up and just be happy.
much left unsaid,
thank you, coffee. you hath awaken me. and i suppose that is your job after all.
i am going to stare out the window and contemplate the possibilities in melting a super-sized box of crayons. otherwise it seems to me a good night for yoga and thelonious monk and not a whole bunch else.
tiny spider performing tiny acrobatics on tiny web, swept away by wind,
to infinity and beyond.
<3 Rexx
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
As an employee of an airline for almost 25 years now, my advice would be to stay away for the stewardess business (although I am not one). For one, the ups and downs of the airline industry are mostly downs and very few ups. Yes, it's provided me with a job for quite some time, but more than anything, I feel I've just been lucky enough to dodge the bullets. Secondly, from all I've been told, people are only becoming more rude and belligerent. Thirdly, based on what I can judge from your blog's window on you, you're better than what that job is.
And I couldn't agree more about just being happy. With the help of a loved one and family, perhaps. Fuck everyone else. It's cliche', but you have to make today count. Quite frankly, tomorrow is only a dream until it actually arrives.
Best Wishes, Beautiful!