On a plane somewhere between Houston and Philadelphia...
My first entry in this journal. Sara gave it to me, just a few days ago. She knows how much I love JM Barrie. I've never seen the quote on the cover before, though. * Wonder what work it's from.
I haven't kept a paper journal in so long. Don't know quite what to write about. But since this was a gift from Sara, I'll say that there's a family with three kids on this airplane named Dakota and Austin (boys) and Kaylie.
I felt a little sick when we were taking off, but at least I didn't cross myself like the woman sitting next to me. Then she spent the next twenty minutes filing her nails so hard that I thought she would file them right off.
I wish my nails looked nicer.
We've only been in the air for about thirty minutes. En route to Philadelphia. I can catch little glimpses of the ground below us through the clouds. I wonder what state, what city we're above right now, what the people down there are doing. Reminds me of that fantastic poem "Lie in the Dark and Listen." By one of the British World War I poets. Clive Owen? ** Life is flying over your head, just turn over and try to sleep.
This woman near me is reading some magazine (OK! I think) with articles about Britney Spears's performance at the VMAs and Anna Nicole Smith's baby and etc. Trashy, I know, but I couldn't stop reading it over her shoulder.
The lines on these pages are so small. Not that I mind. Better too small than too big. I absolutely cannot stand writing on wide-ruled paper.
* The quote on the front of the journal was "The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and write another," from his novel Sentimental Tommy.
** Clive Owen is an actor. I meant to write Wilfred Owen, who was one of the British World War I poets, but this poem was actually by Noel Coward.
[First entry in my paper journal.]
I haven't kept a paper journal in so long. Don't know quite what to write about. But since this was a gift from Sara, I'll say that there's a family with three kids on this airplane named Dakota and Austin (boys) and Kaylie.
I felt a little sick when we were taking off, but at least I didn't cross myself like the woman sitting next to me. Then she spent the next twenty minutes filing her nails so hard that I thought she would file them right off.
I wish my nails looked nicer.
We've only been in the air for about thirty minutes. En route to Philadelphia. I can catch little glimpses of the ground below us through the clouds. I wonder what state, what city we're above right now, what the people down there are doing. Reminds me of that fantastic poem "Lie in the Dark and Listen." By one of the British World War I poets. Clive Owen? ** Life is flying over your head, just turn over and try to sleep.
This woman near me is reading some magazine (OK! I think) with articles about Britney Spears's performance at the VMAs and Anna Nicole Smith's baby and etc. Trashy, I know, but I couldn't stop reading it over her shoulder.
The lines on these pages are so small. Not that I mind. Better too small than too big. I absolutely cannot stand writing on wide-ruled paper.
* The quote on the front of the journal was "The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and write another," from his novel Sentimental Tommy.
** Clive Owen is an actor. I meant to write Wilfred Owen, who was one of the British World War I poets, but this poem was actually by Noel Coward.
[First entry in my paper journal.]