Sitting in the Cincinnati Airport

*Big sigh*.

Thank goodness I'm sitting at the gate and getting ready to board.

This morning my mom and I got on the computer to check my flight. I was listed as a Delta "Non-Rev", which means I was trying to take advantage of my father's status as a Delta Retiree, and was trying to get to New York for free. Yesterday it looked like everything was going to work out perfectly.... but this morning, things had changed. Instead of having 15 open seats on the flight (which meant I would surely get on board), they flight was oversold by 3 seats = I wasn't going to New York.

We made feverish phone calls to the emergency line for Lyon Travel to let them know I wouldn't make my Air France flight to Paris this evening, and called my dad to see if he could do anything. God bless that man. He used his Delta connections to call Delta directly (Expedia had told me that all seats were sold and that I was going nowhere) and explain the emergency, and spent "a small fortune" to get me a seat on the plane. Thank you Dad!

So, after my father spent hundreds of dollars on a seat and pulled all the strings he could, I am sitting at gate B25 with a sense of ease. I'm going to Morocco!

My backpack is heavy, but not over the weight limit. It checked no problem. I was "chosen" by Delta to go through extra security screening, so I spent a good 20 minutes getting screened. (There was no one else there... so I didn't have to wait. That was nice). I like the air puff machine. :)

They're now boarding zone 1, which means zone 5 will be walking on board soon.


I've got happy butterflies in my stomach!

Hopefully I can post an update in New York. If not, I'll send messages from Paris or Rabat.

I am the master of packing!

I do not mind in the least taking a brief moment of pause to congratulate myself.

(Pause)

(pat on the back).

Ok. Good.

My activities over the past four days:
(1) choose clothes and toiletries for Morocco
(2) try to get them into large backpack, only to realize that, at this point, only the clothes will fit.
(3) cutting clothing in half
(4) repacking. Everything still doesn't fit.
(5) consulting fellow Morocco students and alums and deciding to discard large shampoo and large conditioner, large soap, large toothpaste, and hair dryer.
(6) packing travel and trial sizes of everything.
(7) I'm closer!
(8) discard two more shirts, one pair of pants, 3 pairs of socks. pack everything down really really small.
(9) Get everything in backpack, and move on to carry-on.
(10) What? My entire library doesn't fit into my carry-on?
(11) remove books. squeeze my personal pharmacy and gifts for host family into carry-on.
(12) realize I need to purchase eye drops, bug repellent, laxatives (yippee!), laundry detergent, and floss. How will I ever get those into my bags?
(13) Go shopping, return, and spend half an hour squeezing more air out of bags and rearranging medicines.
(14) Catalog the locations of everything. (My inventory list is quite impressive).
(15) Marvel at my grand feat.
(16) Put backpack on, proudly walk downstairs to my mother's bathroom scale, where I realize that my weight + bag's weight = 160 lbs. The weight limit for luggage is 25 lbs. We're in business!

Sometime soon I may post my inventory and a picture of the products of my packing mastery. I am a chronic over-packer, but somehow I was able to fit supplies for nearly 3 months into one large frame backpack and one carry-on.

I took more luggage to the beach. This is incredible.

I now stare at my large backpack with pride. I'm already dreaming of European backpacking expeditions. I've gotta get some mileage out of that thing.

In a dream...

"In a dream, a devout disciple of the master was permitted to approach the Temple in Paradise where all the great old sages who had studied the Talmud all their lives were now spending eternity. He gazed in at them, and to his amazement, they were all sitting around tables, just as they had done on earth, studying the Talmud still! The disciple watched them passionately exclaiming and arguing and reverently fingering the text. He wondered, 'Is this really Paradise? It seems like the earth.'
...But then his thoughts were interrupted by warm laughter. 'You are mistaken. This is not Paradise. The sages are not in Paradise. Paradise is in the sages.'"

Twelve days until I leave the country

My stomach ties up in knots every time I realize I have less than two weeks left in Kentucky. I am generally organized to go.... I have only a large frame backpack in which to take my belongings, so I can't plan on taking much of anything, really. While I'm thinking of it, I'm going to write my packing list. Sorry if this bores you. This is my blog. Deal with it.

-three pairs of pants (two jeans, one black yoga pant)
-long shorts
-four t-shirts
-two long sleeve shirts
-two camisoles (white and brown)
-two skirts
-socks
-underwear
-raincoat
-sweatshirt
-one or two "tablecloths" (the large pieces of fabric that I wrap and tie around myself, and call a dress)
-sweater
-(to dress up?-- brown skirt, burnt orange sweater)
-flip flops
-two pair tennis shoes
-one towel, one wash cloth
-swimsuit


That's all I can think of now. more will come later.

Characterization of Brian

This from my favorite professor and mentor, Dr. Jones. Read further down for a description of Brian and His wisdom, and then this latest post for a further develop of Brian's personality and character.

Today is not the best of my days, so to find Brian in my email inbox was a blessing. *sigh*

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And now for a reflection on the impeccable goodness of religion at its best.

“We can move mountains, fly to the moon, murder millions, and map the mystery of our genetic making. But what if we dropped the dagger, plucked the beams from our eyes, and grew up? We already have maps of that bright country in the brilliant bones of religion. There are and have been many thousands of religions, stridently different, all flawed and greedy, but in their essence all are about the same thing: praise for the miracle of life; awe for the mysterious force that creates it; yearning for life beyond death; and most of all, inarticulate desperation for a future in which mercy trumps murder. More than any other force on this bruised earth, religions keep that desperate dream alive; for which I celebrate them and bow to what is best in us.”

Brian Doyle channeling Brian . . . again!

-Paul Jones

Professor of Religion, Transylvania University

Last minute preparations for Camp

I'm getting ready to leave for Pine Mountain Settlement School for Reading Camp 2007.... and there has been a whirlwind of things to do for me to get ready to leave.

Mostly I'm annoyed at myself for being irresponsible with money, and disgusted at how quickly I am able to deplete my bank account. It's not all my fault, though, because different places of employment have yet to pay me, and that makes it considerably difficult to pay the rent, fix the car, buy food, pay for gas (I want a hybrid), and pay credit card bills, which continue to suck the life right out of my very soul. I've just paid off one credit card, and I have one more to go, thank God. The minute a much-anticipated paycheck arrives in the mail, that credit card balance will go to $0 as well. All I can do now is wait and watch the interest increase my monthly payments.

I'm very glad to be going to camp right now, though it's not the same uncontrollable enthusiasm that it usually is. Maybe that will come when I hit KY-52. We'll see. I'm looking forward to the week, though, because maybe I'll be able to sit down and force myself to write again. My writing has finally become somewhat interesting, at least to me, and so onward I go, trying to write things that might bridge the gap from meaningful to me to meaningful in general. Sometimes I write some pretty insightful things, and then I go back a few months later and I'm pleasantly surprised to find that I might actually know something about life.

That's part of my interest in going to camp and dealing with adults, I guess. I am 20, I am young. Ok. that's out of the way. Be that as it may, I know something about what it means to live. I've had quite an interesting past that very few people know about, I've traveled, I've experienced, I've held positions of leadership, and I am not stupid. I'm ignorant of many things, but motivated to change that. So Reading Camp will be interesting, because I'll deal with adults who think they know what they're talking about and what they're doing, but in my 20-year-old "I know everything" stage, I will think they have a lot yet to learn. And I'll be in a position of "authority" with my mother and my aunt in positions under me. That's interesting. My mom has seen me in this type of role before, but she's never had to look to me for guidance and direction. My aunt has never seen me in this role..... hasn't really seen me in any role, for that matter. The last she saw me I was 12, and obviously things have since changed.

And lots of adults, especially the teachers, have been in positions of authority over young people for decades, and yet they're embarking on something entirely new. Reading Camp is not school. Reading Camp is a community characterized by a hierarchy based on seniority. The hierarchy isn't pompous, arrogant, or impossible..... it's just that people who have done reading camp for 6 years (even if they're 20 years old) know better, generally, how to do things than people who've just joined the game. And so, it's hard for type-A personality volunteers to forgo their desires and ideas and let the seasoned veterans do the job. But then it's also a challenge for the Reading Camp veterans to let go of some time-tested ways of doing things and allow new ideas to enliven and enrich the camp experience. Reading Camp is an interesting enterprise, a constant give and take between old and young, old and new, the way things were, the ways things are, and the way things should be.

Off I go to camp, for the 12th consecutive summer of my young (I think I know everything!) life.

Brian, the next installment

“Jesus shows us the importance of affirming, for God’s sake, both one’s self and the world, and by so doing, to transform both.”

Marcus Borg channeling Brian.

Brian lives, breathes, and transforms!!