Around 10-ish, having accomplished absolutely nothing, I decided to check my flight and discovered that it left at 11:40. I only had to get UP at 8 am. So I promptly went out.
But I got packed and everything (it's really just an extended overnight), and found that I don't have to preach until tomorrow night, so I crashed around midnite, 1 am. Got up this morning and got out. I'm now doing planks in the morning and in the evening, and taking note of the way they make me stand up straighter and keep my gut sucked in. I also noticed that even with my HUMONGOUS camera/laptop backpack (which easily weighs twice what my clothes weigh), I still had no problems walking the few blocks to Dunkin to get my morning java fix. Walking West to take an eastbound bus also put me earlier on the bus route, which increased my chance of getting a seat.
Got the bus, got to the airport and through security with no problems (although I think my camera pack scares them. TSA scanned it like they used to scan my CPAP when I carried one, and more than one TSA agent has asked if I'm a professional photographer. No, I always tell them, just a geek....). Got to the gate with no problems, and decided to pay the extra money to take my luggage on board with me. At least that way I didn't run the risk of Spirit losing it. It's nice now to be of a size where having to sit in the middle seat is not an issue.
I sat beside a 22 year old named Jamie. She was quite nice, and actually gave me her Otterbox for my iphone because she said mine was ripped (I thought it had character, silly me.). She also wanted a drink at 11 in the morning. The flight attendant told her she had to wait until we were airborne. Jamie is from Long Island, drives a Mercedes, her sister drives an Inifini, and their parents drive a Lexus, and I think all three have been in accidents recently. She just lost a cousin from a drug-related incident, and is still quite upset by it. She's en route to Myrtle Beach to attend a Marine Ball with a former boyfriend. She was a sweet girl, but I didn't get to sleep.
Got off the plane and went to the rental car desk, where I am reminded that I'm in the south. I love the south, but everything moves in slow motion. I tried to breathe deeply and not be annoyed, but am not sure it worked. The guy on the desk was very sweet, and handled me quickly. I had asked for a compact car. He gave me a Chevy Impala.
It's interesting to see how my little Nissan has spoiled me. At first I thought the Impala was not good on acceleration. Then I learned how to punch it. It's an American car, built for American sizes. Everything is out of place to me -- it's built for bigger people. But it looks good, and in South Carolina, the highway speed limit is 65. Took me a few minutes, but I've got this baby purring now!
So I'm at this place called Brunswick Plantation. Not sure how I feel about being on a plantation, but it's cool. Here's a pic of the car outside my little villa thingie place:
I think it's kinda cool,
So I'm sitting here enjoying the silence. It's a family reunion, and I guess they thought they were being helpful by giving out a list with everyone's room number on it. IT ALSO HAS EVERYONE'S PHONE NUMBER, but in the last 5 minutes, I've had two people knock on my door, both of whom want to take me to the meet and greet. My Dad is one of the seniors of the family, I think. And I think that as his firstborn daughter I probably have some sort of rank or role or something (I'm preaching tomorrow). So I'm gonna stop here and go do my meet and greet.
I love the south. I love my people. This is a beautiful place. I'm just having feelings about being on a "plantation."
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