We're the ones your mother warned your about...No, seriously. We are.

Fuck the Code. Be a Pirate.

Note from Claris :
I wrote this, and was originally going to post both airplane rambles in the last update, but then, in true Claris style...lost this one. Somewhere along the line, I stuck it in an HTML book and promptly forgot I'd put it there. oops. Hence the delayed upload.

I love takeoff. Always have. I like flying. My brother, aka FlyBoy, has always shared my father's love of aviation, and was involved in Civil Air Patrol by the age of 12. For a long time, I didn't understand that. Then, at 19, I flew for the first time to go to a wedding in Colorado, and the minute the plane left the ground, I got it. While I'll never fly a plane myself, I know why he loves it so much.

The closest I can draw for a comparison is that ride that fairs have - what is it called? Where you stand against the wall, and it begins to spin, and the sheer force of it compresses you against the wall so you don't need any straps. I remember going on one that was completely enclosed, top & bottom. The entire inside was black, so that once it started, you could barely see the other people with out in the dim light. On impulse, I pushed my upper body off from the wall & sat out, so that from the waist down I was againt the vertical wall, but the rest of me was at a ninety degree angle parallel to the floor. It was...fantastic. It felt free. That's what I'm reminded off at takeoff.

Tonight, takeoff was accomplished the the accompaniement of the Oceans' 11 soundtrack - yet another gift from DarkLady. Something about that seemed appropriate for a night flight as I watched the lights of Boston disappear away from under my window.

So here I go - back to Los Angeles, back to what I've created for myself in the last year & a half. Time to start the new year & see what can be made of it. I've got laundry to do & an apt. to sweep through quickly, as Anya arrives to visit for a week on the 30th, gods help you all. *grin* Tomorrow, I return to retail, Monday back to the day gig.

Someone asked me a question while I was back East - two things, actually. The first was why I'd moved to L.A. My answer had been, "Because it wasn't here." [NH] The second was whether I was happy. Honestly, I don't know. As early as this summer, I found myself saying to DarkLady that I wouldn't be in L.A. more than five years at the most. I mean, it's all right. I can obviously survive there, and I'm a hell of a lot calmer than I was two years ago in the NorthEast...but I know it's not where I'll be forever. If nothing else, I've got a low tolerance for bullshit, and LA involve a LOT of bullshit. In truth, I think I'll look back on LA as my proving ground. I've learned there. I got enough courage to try some avenues that could, depending on how they develop, shape my life. I now know that I'm strong enough to be who I can be... but no. I won't be there forever.

Where to next? Not sure. A while ago, that would have bugged the shit out of me - the "not sure". Now? Now I'm kind of okay with that. I've made my peace with that. Maybe I'll go north in a few years - I hear Northern California is gorgeous, and several people have told me I'd like Portland or Seattle. Who knows? Nothing is certain. If I have learned anything, it is that a life that is truly worth living will not be one that is lived according to some preconcieved notion of what can and cannot be done. There is no definitive code to tell you how things must be. The idea what you shouldn't do something - not because it's immoral, or would hurt someone, but because it seems "hard", or you're afraid of what might happen one day, or because you have some noble idea that it would be wrong for no other reason than that noble ideal - that's not even a code. That's a prison. After all, as any good fan of Captain Jack Sparrow can tell you, "it's more of a guideline, really".

Me, I decided to make my own code. Live my own life. I suppose I've come to see that not all pirates have ships & zombie monkeys. Some have KIA Sportages & undergrown gray Weimermonsters.

As the pilot informs me that we're passing over Vermont, I say this to you, my friends:

Fuck the code. Be a pirate. Fly. Because I have a sneaking suspicion that while the take off is a rush, it's the landing where things are going to get interesting.

6:00 pm EST
- Somewhere over Vermont

~ Claris

~ Claris' Archive