Shakes on a Plane

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It has been an interesting journey since I left New York January 31. I’ve said goodbye to friends and lovers, sold off sentimental and material possessions, donated countless bags of clothes/purses/shoes and moved home to New Jersey. While the process has been both cleansing and rewarding, it hasn’t been without nerves.

I always feel nervousness and anxiety in my belly, and today, 38,000 feet in the air, I sort of want to throw up. As I look at Virgin America’s seat back map I can’t help but feel excited and anxious at the same time. My mom drove me to the airport (third time in 1 week, she’s a good mom), and when I said goodbye, mentally I knew I wasn’t coming back for a while and got a tad teary, but it wasn’t real yet. I don’t feel like I’m actually making the move.

Maybe it’s because there are other nervous factors working against me at the moment. For one thing, I’m not flying to Austin quite yet. I’m on my way to Los Angeles. Early February, I booked a one-way flight to see an old college friend of mine, let’s call him Thespian. We had a brief PG-13 romantic affair when I was about 20, and then he moved to L.A. to pursue acting. We’ve kept in contact throughout the years, loosely planning trips across the U.S., but with relationships, finances, etc., it just never worked out. Until now.

Unemployment helps open doors (doesn’t that seem backward?). And I’m not sure this door should be open. It just happened. While I was figuring out possible “next steps” my older brother offered me the opportunity to go to San Diego to live with him, his wife and my niece, look for work, chill out. So, naturally when I told Thespian he was like, cool, swing by and I’ll show you the sights before you head south. Before I knew it, plane ticket booked, TripAdvisor loaded.

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So, for a couple of weeks we have been planning and scheduling and I was super duper excited, regardless of the outcome, until I met this guy John at the airport. And yes, I seriously always meet people at the airport and I have a theory about it. Strangers don’t care what you think about them, they just like someone to talk to before they fly off never to be seen again. So, there’s John, on his third bloody Mary, second Jack and coke, and he says, I’m fucking my boss’s daughter and she’s married.*

Not one to judge, I just said, sounds like she’s the one that can’t say anything and you’re in the clear. He laughed and agreed and asked me where I was jetting. I told him my little situation and now I want to throw up. Not because there’s anything wrong with Thespian, I’m still excited to see my old friend. But more so that telling this complete stranger that I left my home, will eventually move to Austin, had no apartment, no start date, no where to live for a while and I was staying with a man I hadn’t seen in over 10 years…hearing the words leave my mouth—did that ever happen to you? You just hear it leave your mouth? I just had to laugh and I heard my sister’s words in my head, only you, Bean.

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I’m 535 miles away from LAX. I’m looking out the window at the mountains somewhere over Utah. My palms are sweating and while I’m not regretting ANY of the decisions I’ve made, I’m just realizing this journey didn’t end with an offer. It’s really only taking off.

 

*I don’t condone this, I’m glad it’s not my life.

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