Sitting in the airport right now and somehow I feel right at home. Probably a good thing since over the next year I'll be spending a lot of time in airports. California, Africa, and London. Whew!
I'm not quite sure why I love flying so much. It's this mystery I've been trying to figure out for awhile now. I've always had dreams about flying by myself (meaning without the plane.) It's supposed to mean I'm worry free and feel on top of the world, but I sometimes don't think that's it. Literally...I dream about flying all. the. time. It's a semi small obsession.
Which transfers to flying on planes. Cause that's a close as I'll get to flying on my own. I have never gotten sick of flying on planes. I think the first time I was on a plane I was around 4. I still remember it. Not vividly, but vaguely somewhere like a dream.
And as we took off from Montana to Salt Lake City for a layover, I couldn't help craning my neck to gaze outside. I don't think I stopped looking outside the whole trip. Weird right? I mean, it's just clouds. I looked around after we landed and most people had books out and stuff. Not me. Just me, my I-pod, and the sky.
I know, I know...I'm a weirdo :-)
Who knows, but all I know. I'm pretty excited about flying a ton this year. I think somewhere in my head I think I'm closer to Jesus way up there.
Oh who knows.
Anyway, Montana was fantabulous. I'll post pictures on my facebook soon. I love my brothers. I love the mountains. I love my life. Done!
Come Fly With Me - Frank Sinatra
Photo Props: R'eyes'