Are you serious....??

So as Sarah makes her first trek sans-offspring and hubbins, it made me reminisce on the beauty of flying solo. No one to run after. No bathroom breaks to strategically coordinate like a military official. No one to disrupt you from snoozing, listening to tunes, people watch, etc. mid-flight.

But then that silence is always broken upon landing.

"HEY, YA, I JUST LANDED. WAIT, WHAT'S THAT? OH YA, HOW'S YOUR HERPES?"

Ya, that guy. The one who thinks that talking really loudly on the plane while still taxi-ing is okay. Heard of texting? Ya. It's where you push buttons to talk. It's a phenomenal advancement in technology. That way you can send group messages, "Hey, touchdown (enter crappy destination, i.e. Lubbock)." Not making everyone on the plane go crazy listening to the same convo to 10 different people. I don't care. Neither do they, I'm pretty sure.

And just because it's still on my mind. A conversation from last night.

M(om): "So when do you leave?"
A(shley): "February 10th."
B(rother): "Wait, where you going this time?"
A: "To see wook."
B: "Didn't you just see him?"
A: "Ya, for a week and two days."
M: Egging me on, "Can't you wait another 8 months?"
A: "Eff that." Shocked look on my mother's face.

I'm not doing that again, unless there are ill-formatted, all-in-upper-case orders surrounding that option. I am glad I know I can make it with most of my hair still attached to my scalp. I found things to do to keep me busy. Work. Lesbian adventures. Cutting my hair off gradually. Sleep. Lots more. Yoga. Taking up running. Sending random care packages/cards to the boy. Staring at my possessions with teary eyes as they sit unused in my storage unit.

I'm excited to be heading back East. This time to a big city. Like really being in the city, not a couple miles out stuck at some house (thankfully with a pool) with nothing to do but weed the yard and run at night. Wook loves where he's living. He thinks I'll like it too. I trust his judgment, sometimes when I really don't want to (like going on Space Mountain for the first time. My equilibrium + roller coasters = nauseous mess. I believe the claw marks have subsided from his neck. But that's what he gets for sitting up front on a new ride. I now believe that ride is awesome. It just took some persuading. Lots of it.). Plus I really could use the break from living in 120sqft of dorm room. (But first I have to clean up Chernobyl.)

Ugh. I just don't want to wait the 3 weeks till I leave. I really want them to fly by for wook's sake also. He, like every other pilot, has to succumb to torture training. This is probably what I've looked forward to least this entire process. And it's not the silence for 2 weeks that'll kill me. It's the thought that I have no control over this one. And as we know, no news = Ashley making up news. Ugh. Okay people, let's focus. Umm, first stop. My to-do list for before I head back which is getting a little long. I love making lists. Crossing things off? That's where I stagnate.