Lisbon: bummer city

Well, thanks a lot, snow.

I could use this next week to display my fiction-writing skills. You'd be dazzled by stories about getting lost in the airport, about the first moment I see my good friends, about the millionaire I sat beside on the bus to Our Lady of Fatima. Yes, yes, this is the enormous rock he gave me for my left finger...

However, that would be lying and defeating the purpose of this blog.

My flights got pushed back because of the snow and after some time weighing my options, it made more sense to get a refund and miss out on my trip. The thirteen international friends I was going to meet in Lisbon are going to have a wonderful time and I'll pray for their safety!

Last night, before the flights got pushed into the snow bank, my sisters, cousin, mom, and I talked about heading to Europe this summer. I have a new goal set, but man am I bummed about this one.

Fuselage habits

I have flown a lot in the last two years, so the quirks of traveling have become habit. I am not as mechanical as Clooney in Up in the Air, but I'm good at separating my liquids and slipping off my shoes.

A friend told me that he usually asks out a woman on his international flights, which I think is brave. I usually strike up a conversation, but airplanes always seem like temporary time machines to me. I get on the plane, sit for x hours and then get off, knowing I might bump into that lady in the restroom or that guy in the line for coffee. We'll probably never see each other again.

It reminds me of how many people on Earth I will never know.

The first time I flew to California from Virginia, I remember an irking feeling that someone had driven the fuselage (thanks, LOST, for bringing that into the vernacular) into a flight simulator, projecting cloud images into our windows, and pulled back out again. It was weird to think I was standing on ground that was connected to Virginia... just 3000 miles away.

This distance also highlights how many people who live between the coasts are people I will never meet. The idea that I might know someone for longer than the flight is so foreign to me that when my friend told me he asks out someone on his flights, it was as if he said, "Did you hear they found a new continent?"

My goal for this trip is to transcend that "otherness" feeling. I mentioned that I'm working on seeing men as bretheren. Similarly, I'm going to view fellow tourists as people and not objects peppering my view as I travel.

See also:
*Lisbon: bummer city

Lisbon, here I come!

My dad suggested we call it Elizbon while I'm there...

I fly off to this former world power port tonight and I return in a week! I'm going to attempt to let you know what's going on from there via the blog, but I don't want to assume I'll be able to find a computer or Internet easily.

Pray for me! I'm hoping to see the shrine of Our Lady of Fatima and I'll tell you all about it!

May God bless your week!

7 Quick Takes Friday, Volume 3

Click here to read the original post at ConversionDiary.com

*1*

"Lipitor heart throbs"

That's my new catchphrase for having celebrity crushes on attractive leading men who are could be on medicare (if they were alive).  Tab Hunter, Steve McQueen, Paul Newman, Tom Drake (see #3), Gene Kelly, Marlon Brando, Cary Grant... I admit, I'm a little creepy, but think about it: half of them could sing and all of them knew how to dance well enough to put on a suit, shine their shoes, buy a corny corsage, and take you to a ball. Does anyone else hear the Zoot Suit Riot playing in the back of their mind?

*2*

Speaking of young men I love: Gilbert Blythe. Swoon.

I love Canada. Canada, I really love you. If you weren't so darn cold, I'd come visit you.  

Anne of Green Gables may be the book that made me fall in love with literature. In turn, it led me to love writing. The Darcy-Elizabeth, hate-secret-admiration relationship (obviously, the most romantic of all possible scenarios) is perfectly played in Anne of Green Gables.

The audience falls in love with him before Anne realizes she's got a grade A sweetheart on her hands.... plus he's super cute. Swoon.

*3*

I listen to Christmas music earlier than most people (July). I just love it so much, I don't think I'll ever get sick of it. However, I do ration my Christmas movies, so right now I'm in the Meet Me in St. Louis layer.

The only section of Christmas comes at the end, so not only is it a legitimate November movie, it's also a great transition to the White Christmases of the world. It also shows the investment of year-round family bonding involved in a truly beautiful Christmas experience.

Meet Me in St. Louis (I sing it, I don't say it) climaxes with my very favorite secular Christmas songs of all time: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

One gem in this movie that guys should notice is that eldest daughters scheme to "convince" the men in their sight to "take the first step." It's hilarious to watch it 1903-style because YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA how slow and scared-i-cat-y you can be! We have to move it along sometimes.

*4*

I am down a third notch in my belt since last year. Woot! I kind of whined about Starbucks last Friday, but apparently I owe them an apology.

*5*

I'm going to Lisbon! This New Year's Eve I will be celebrating the new year in a former world trade-power's capital with people I love! I haven't seen these friends in more than a year; most of them are from and live in Europe or South America, so this will be an epic reunion. In honor of my excitement, I'm sharing some of my favorite pictures from my Europe trip last year.

My mom and I went to London (where we met up with my good friend from Belgium), Barcelona (narrowly missing a good friend who was in North America for the exact days we were in Europe. The luck), Torino, La Spetzia, Cinque Terre, Pisa (yuck, thank you Europe for creating a nasty city so we feel better about ours), Roma (<3 Vatican City), and Florence.

Casa Batllo, Barcelona

Vatican City

Casa Batllo, Barcelona

 

Rome, Italy

Inside of St. Peter's Basilica

St. Peter's Square, Vatican City

*6*

Thursday is my kickball night and this week it was EPIC! I've been really nervous and terrible every week on a team with which I had no chemistry. This week I played with a new team of great people, most of whom are married (that ups the maturity factor), who welcomed me with encouragement.

In exchange, I kicked BOOTY and walked away with: a strawberry on my knee, a bruise on my kicking ankle, awesome new teammates, three runs (one sliding), and the distinct pleasure of getting 3 MEN out.


Did I brush my shoulder off? (What year is this?) Well, I did it anyway. Yes.
 

*7*

This one is a prayer for vocations for every person reading or not reading this. Remember: Jeremiah 29:11.