aero·pho·bia

Posted on May 18, 2012 by Dena

aerophobia (noun) \ˌer-ō-ˈfō-bē-ə\: a fear or strong dislike of flying

If you know me at all, then you know of my aversion to flying. Friends and family members have tried to reason with me by subjecting me to long, statistical, drawn out speeches about transportation safety and how I am more likely to be killed in a car accident than in a plane crash. But talk all you want because…LA LA LA LA LA LA MY BRAIN CANNOT HEAR YOU. Unless you and I are exceptionally close and I can hear in your voice why you should care, you should know that your sermon makes you sound pushy and condescending, like I should feel bad about my decision to not fly.

So, please…just stop.

Last night I had a conversation about this little quirk of mine and finally decided to speak up about how I feel like I am constantly defending myself. Aside from the fact that my fiancé, whom I love immensely, lives over a thousand miles away and would greatly benefit from me lugging my terrified ass onto an airplane, I can’t really think of how my phobia really affects anybody.

If anybody should be pissed about this irrationality of mine, it should be him. But I made it perfectly clear before our relationship even started that I. DO. NOT. FLY. Maybe this helps me to feel justified in allowing him to be the one who does all the traveling, but it’s something that was made known from Day One. In fact, he knew about this long before we even got together, maybe even going years and years back. And even HE is okay with this. That’s not to say I don’t feel guilty about it or that I don’t recognize how my phobia affects those closest to me, but really…why would anyone else feel they have a right to argue with me about it?

a view of the sky from my backyard

I love airplanes. I grew up on and around military bases and I currently live near Jacksonville International Airport, so the sound of a jet engine or a commercial plane flying overhead is one of the most comforting sounds to me. I have flown on airplanes numerous times before, but that was when I was younger and my parents booked family vacations and I had no choice but to travel by air. I have never liked to fly. Now I have a choice. I choose to not fly.

As a traveler who employs very limited modes of transportation, I really don’t feel like I’m missing out on the world. My earliest years were spent in Italy and taking trips to Germany and the former Yugoslavia. Luckily, I remember these moments. There is no strong desire pulling me back to visit any place abroad.

I think America is just as good a place as any to drive across, travel through, and wander aimlessly in search of history and a cultural connection. Why isn’t that enough? In what rule book does it say I must have a pining desire to stroll the romantic streets of Paris or to drink a pint of Guinness in an authentic Irish pub or visit the war-torn lands of my Polish ancestors, otherwise there is something terribly wrong with me?

And why does this mean so much to everyone who learns of my fear of flying? It obviously matters more to them than it does to me, maybe because I have had my entire life to acknowledge and accept this. And, for my entire adult life, I have had to defend myself against being treated as if this is a shortcoming, a flaw, or some kind a defect. It is what it is.

Cosmic Purples

Posted on May 17, 2012 by Dena

It’s no secret how impatient I am about my garden. I am especially impatient, though, when it comes to my carrots. To be completely honest, those carrots are the whole reason I wanted to start a garden in the first place. Last fall, my father received a seed catalog in the mail one afternoon and I decided to thumb through it out of boredom. That was the first time I had ever heard of purple carrots.

Actually, it was more like OMG THERE’S SUCH A THING AS PURPLE CARROTS!!????!!!!!

Purple is my favorite color, in case you didn’t know. And I could have had my choice of any color in the rainbow, practically: Atomic Reds, White Satins, Amarillos (bright yellow), even Black carrots. Yep, black carrots. But I went with purple ones.

My Cosmic Purples are described as having orange or yellow flesh and “spicy and sweet-tasting roots”. Kind of makes me want to eat one right now.

They are almost ready. I have pulled a few out every week or so just check on progress (and, honestly, to just smile at the fact that I have purple carrots!) but they are still skinny and growing. Everything seems to be going the way it should be – even when I break into them to marvel at the orange insides. Immediately after I snap into one of those little carrots, it smells like a carrot and, for some reason, this always surprises me! Fresh, delicious, earthy…mmm, just a few more weeks!

I just love this color.

see, it still looks like a carrot on the inside!

The Power of Introverts

Posted on May 16, 2012 by Dena

While walking the dachshund the other day, I was listening to a podcast from TEDTalks and I became quite emotional over the connection I felt to the speaker. Introverts have a unique bond with one another…and with the extroverts who are willing to take the time to understand us, work with us, and not judge us.

I am an introvert who has been called an extrovert more than once. I don’t necessarily find that to be incorrect or an insult. Quite frankly, I find that to be one of the most interesting compliments an introvert could ever be given because it means that we, the introverts, have been able to adapt to the extrovert’s world.

Listen to Susan Cain talk about our former agricultural society and then listen to how she connects the introverts of yesteryear to our modern day, one that is fueled by charisma and charm, sociabilty and gregariousness. Our modern day is moved forward by a big business state of mind, one that encourages, no…more like pushes and forces upon us all, the group dynamic. Notice that the introverts are more likely to be the ones left behind.

My early career in the hotel business groomed me, against everything I felt was comfortable and safe to me, to be personable and enthusiastic when dealing with strangers, friendly or otherwise. I became a salesperson, a haggler, a PR spokesperson, and, sometimes, a free therapist for hotel guests who found themselves alone, lonely, and far from home. I learned how to be friendly and patient at my worst moments, how to see the good in people, and how to force myself to look like I really wanted to be there…in a group, at a social event, on a stage receiving an award and being applauded by strangers and coworkers. Where would I have rather been? I would have rather been at home or upstairs in my hotel room, reading a book or watching some nerdy documentary on television.

This other piece about introverts from Susan Cain really hit home, too. It feels so good to know someone is on your side and willing to speak for you, even more so when they are one of your kind – a quiet person, a bookworm, a loner, a lover of solitude. There is nothing wrong with being an extrovert, although I do believe introverts are more often the ones who feel as though we must defend ourselves or work harder at being heard, trusted, or worthy of expectations. Susan Cain said it herself, in other words, of course, that some of us are perfectly capable of being ambiverts and that others live momentarily on the cusp of both at times, especially when life calls for it. Our tendencies steer us to be one way and, introvert or extrovert, we must adapt to the situations in which we find ourselves. I like to think this concept of different-ness means we are all actually more alike than we may have recognized.

Let’s Go Camping!

Posted on May 15, 2012 by Dena

Our campsite was surrounded by water on nearly all sides (the St. Johns River, Fort George Inlet, and the Atlantic Ocean). We (my brother Nick, Elle, her friend Taylor, Matt, and me) were situated on the north bank of the St. Johns River in Huguenot Memorial Park, directly across from Naval Station Mayport and along the route that all ships take from downtown Jacksonville or from the port to get out to the Atlantic Ocean. We’re talking sailboats, shrimp boats, speedboats, fishing vessels, yachts, casino boats, and container ships.

a constant sight…very cool!

For dinner, Matt cooked our hamburger patties perfectly, leaving one additional patty since there were only five of us. That we had an extra hamburger could not have worked in Elle’s favor any better than had she and her friend Taylor been attacked by seagulls causing Elle’s dinner plate to go flying through the air and sending both girls screaming back to camp, dinnerless and afraid. Oh, wait…that is what happened!

Luckily, Taylor’s dinner had been left carefully on a fold-out camping chair, undiscovered by seagulls and completely (thankfully) untouched. Good thing we had that extra hamburger so Elle could actually eat a dinner. And it’s also a good thing I had packed extra clothes to wear because promptly following the attack on the kids and the subsequent hamburgling by the gang of seagulls, one of them totally did a fly-by and shit on my cute, flowing summer skirt.

right before Elle lost her dinner to seagulls

the assault begins…

that cute smile left her face as soon as she realized she was hamburgerless

And that is how our camping trip began. Not on a bad note, just a funny one. I think everyone’s cheeks were sore from laughing so hard. I know mine were…even while I changed my clothes. Bastard birds.

Hey, no splashing around in international shipping lanes!

It was terribly windy, too, which felt good while the sun was beating down on us during the day and early evening, but when the temperatures dropped that night into the high 50s and low 60s, it was downright chilly. The fire was nice for a little bit, but man…the wind!

Sending two little girls with sharp objects topped with marshmallows towards a blazing, wind-whipped fire might not have been the best idea, but making s’mores is a kid’s job! The grown-ups eventually took over s’more making and the smoke blinded us all, so much so that we often had to stand in the middle of the park road to help our eyeballs find clean air again. However, we all agreed that s’mores are still the most delicious damn things on the planet when you’re camping.

After we’d decided to go to bed, the wind kept us all awake for the majority of the night. As did the tow truck that trolled the campsites looking for curfew violators and the massive container ship that decided to blow his horn (not once, but twice!) as he passed the campground.

I think it is important to note that a tow truck moving just a few feet from your head sounds like a helicopter preparing to crash onto your tent and that scrambling inside your sleeping bag to prepare for such impending doom and death just makes you annoyingly noisy to other tent mates. Also, inconsiderate captains of gigantic container ships who blow the ship’s foghorn twice in the middle of the night should be warned of Matt’s sudden blast of curse words, which he will startlingly yell skyward to nobody in particular because, well…we were actually asleep at that one single moment.

Did I mention it was windy? We may never have really fallen asleep but we did stare up at the moon and stars and listen to the crashing waves nearby. Not a bad way to end a day, though sleeping would have been nice. That’s why we’ll try again another time…in the woods.

36 before 36 – item #31: Go Camping. CHECK.

sunset over the St. Johns river

seeing as all but one container ship was eerily quiet when passing by, this not the offending hornblower

The Return of Mother’s Day Flowers

Posted on May 14, 2012 by Dena

3 days old – the day before my 25th birthday

You know what? I still have that blanket.

I wanted to be sure that Elle came home from the hospital snuggled in a blanket that I had slept with for months, careful to use the same lotion on my skin every night before bed so that it, so that I, would be the scent she became the most familiar and comfortable with.

**********

Over the past ten years, Elle has grown to be the most selfless and considerate child I’ve ever known. This morning, when I woke up, she was missing – off on a shopping trip with my mother, off on a shopping trip to find me the most perfect bouquet of flowers.

Obviously, I like flowers. I love flowers. My garden is proof of that but nobody suffers my newfound hobby more than she does, yet she spent her morning trying to find for me the one bunch of flowers she could bring home that wouldn’t cause me an allergic reaction. (A number of years ago, my face and lips swelled so badly after I inhaled the scent of orchids that I couldn’t put on my glasses. It really wouldn’t have helped to wear them since I couldn’t even open my eyes, yet somehow, I managed to drive myself to the doctor’s office for a nice hefty dose of some shot in the asscheek. Benadryl soon became a staple food in my diet.)

I am now convinced that I have lost years of enjoying bouquets due to an imagined allergy to the flowers when, in reality, it was probably an allergy to the preservative powders used to keep the flowers looking and smelling fresh. Still careful to not inhale too deeply, I am happy to welcome them back into my life.

Seriously, I don’t think words can express just how wonderful it is to have a bouquet of springtime flowers in my house once again

And, to Elle – thank you. I love being your mom. That you put so much worry and concern and loving thought into bringing these home for me just proves that I’m the luckiest mom out there. I love you, kiddo.

P.S. I would really love some help identifying those blueish/purple flowers. It’s like they are growing flat-stemmed, on a pallet or something. When I touch the petals, it sounds like rustling bits of paper.

Flower Power: Gazanias

Posted on May 11, 2012 by Dena

That Gerbera daisy wasn’t the only thing that came home with me the other day. I also decided to take on an already-potted plant filled with white, yellow, and orange flowers – Gazanias. I had never before heard of such a thing (but then again, I’m new at this). Through the course of a normal day, it’s pretty fun to watch these flowers live out a complete daily cycle of opening and closing with their spindly petals protecting them in the nighttime. I’ve compared the look of them to a Venus Flytrap when they’re closed (maybe I’ll be able to get a shot of that sometime). But when they’re open, in the daytime, they look like this:

waking up…

almost there…

awake!

Wood Stork Babies!

Posted on May 10, 2012 by Dena

I was heading to the Jacksonville Zoo with a friend and our kids when I remembered the wood stork babies were due to hatch any day!

(Read about the 2011 nesting season and hatchlings here. My recent post about the nesting preparations can be found here for the 2012 nesting season.)

Let’s talk about good timing – my zoo membership is set to expire in only a few days and, from the screeching and squawking coming from the direction of the cypress trees, it was pretty obvious that the babies had hatched…and they were hungry!

	Dena on The Return of Mother’s D…
	Lou on The Return of Mother’s D…
	Space Please (Passio… on The Power of Introverts
	Dena on aero·pho·bia
	Casa Mariposa on aero·pho·bia

Two Girls and a Road