Rose Bown Trip, The Final Curtain
I haven't not posted because I'm trying to build suspense...I've just been ill.
But more about that later! The public demands a conclusion to my football-shaped tale.
Sandy beaches,
Sunny skies,
and fear of flying
We woke up and went to the beach.
It was a very pretty day.
At first, I didn't want to remove my shoes and paddle because I was being stubborn. My dad was being the same way.
Grayson had no qualms about it, though, and neither did Mom.
But eventually I got bored with just sand.
So Dad and I broke down and took off our shoes and socks.
The water was very cold.
Note my Dad's and my "cold faces."
We got used to it...eventually.
Mom took this "funky" picture of me:
It was my facebook picture for a short while...until I tried to friend Vince Young, and I decided he might not like the "V" sign I'm flashing.
(By the way, my USC audition is Jan. 29.)
I painted my toe nails for the first time in three years. It's pretty, but it isn't Me.
I found a meaningful pebble.
Meaningful, because it is smooth. Meaningful, because it found the shore without stress. A follower of The Way.
A man in a pink striped dress shirt and dress pants and brown leather shoes took our picture. (Out of nine tries, this was the only one in which my eyes are even a little bit open.) He told us that he was happy we won the football game, because he got second place in a huge betting pool and won about $600. Apparently, this guy went to Michigan, and after their loss last year, he knew we'd win this year. So, he was nice. I thought it was interesting that he was so dressed up at the beach.
He told us that we were here at a good time--the rain (which had fled shortly before we arrived) had temporarily cleared out the smog, creating blue skies.
We had lunch at Lula's Mexican Cocina (which my parents called "Luna's Mexican Cuchina"). Then we drove to the airport.
Traffic.
Lots of Hummers and Hummer limos in LA. Lots of lines at the gas stations, too.
Santa Monica High School. I like the winking Viking. It looks more like he's just gotten lemon juice in his eye, and less like he's being feisty.
So we flew to Las Vegas (a quickie) and then changed planes. Here's a shot of our Austin-bound gate:
Lots of orange.
And yet again, we sang "The Eyes of Texas" on the plane.
Now, as someone who doesn't even go to the school, this is beginning to get a little corny. But whatever, I can handle it.
About halfway through the flight I had a panic attack.
I put down "The Feminine Mystique" and returned my tray table to the upright position. And began crying. Dad saw me and said, "Hold my hand, hold my hand." I don't know what caused it, because I've never had any problems flying before (and I've flown plenty of times!) but I was totally freaked out. Basically, I was convinced that the plane was going to hit something. I could see the nose of the plane smashing into the cockpit, crushing the pilot and co-pilot, and I could hear the metal crunching forward, causing explosions, until the whole plane collapsed forward upon itself into a coin-shaped hunk of steel and flesh. I was aware of how high we were, and how, to a person standing on the ground, my life did not matter.
So, I cried quietly for a little bit and Daddy made me feel better.
Then we all played hangman and it took my mind off things, despite the inherently morbid premise of the game. (Guess the movie title or STRANGULATION!)
I was happy to land.
Afterwards, we went to the Tower to take some pictures of the big "1." In Mom's words, "This is the most important thing EVER. Grayson, you will DIE before they ever do this again."
We're all exhausted, and my braids are frizzy. I ran into Emily Panzer while we were there. She goes to University of Florida, which I (accidentally!!) called "F.U." She's really into her sorority. I told her I was an ADPi, and she said that at U.F., the ADPi's are like the rich southern belles with pearls. I laughed at that.
So now I'm home, and a still a little congested. It was a good trip, but I'm happy to be back in Texas.
Sandy beaches,
Sunny skies,
and fear of flying
We woke up and went to the beach.
It was a very pretty day.
At first, I didn't want to remove my shoes and paddle because I was being stubborn. My dad was being the same way.
Grayson had no qualms about it, though, and neither did Mom.
But eventually I got bored with just sand.
So Dad and I broke down and took off our shoes and socks.
The water was very cold.
Note my Dad's and my "cold faces."
We got used to it...eventually.
Mom took this "funky" picture of me:
It was my facebook picture for a short while...until I tried to friend Vince Young, and I decided he might not like the "V" sign I'm flashing.
(By the way, my USC audition is Jan. 29.)
I painted my toe nails for the first time in three years. It's pretty, but it isn't Me.
I found a meaningful pebble.
Meaningful, because it is smooth. Meaningful, because it found the shore without stress. A follower of The Way.
A man in a pink striped dress shirt and dress pants and brown leather shoes took our picture. (Out of nine tries, this was the only one in which my eyes are even a little bit open.) He told us that he was happy we won the football game, because he got second place in a huge betting pool and won about $600. Apparently, this guy went to Michigan, and after their loss last year, he knew we'd win this year. So, he was nice. I thought it was interesting that he was so dressed up at the beach.
He told us that we were here at a good time--the rain (which had fled shortly before we arrived) had temporarily cleared out the smog, creating blue skies.
We had lunch at Lula's Mexican Cocina (which my parents called "Luna's Mexican Cuchina"). Then we drove to the airport.
Traffic.
Lots of Hummers and Hummer limos in LA. Lots of lines at the gas stations, too.
Santa Monica High School. I like the winking Viking. It looks more like he's just gotten lemon juice in his eye, and less like he's being feisty.
So we flew to Las Vegas (a quickie) and then changed planes. Here's a shot of our Austin-bound gate:
Lots of orange.
And yet again, we sang "The Eyes of Texas" on the plane.
Now, as someone who doesn't even go to the school, this is beginning to get a little corny. But whatever, I can handle it.
About halfway through the flight I had a panic attack.
I put down "The Feminine Mystique" and returned my tray table to the upright position. And began crying. Dad saw me and said, "Hold my hand, hold my hand." I don't know what caused it, because I've never had any problems flying before (and I've flown plenty of times!) but I was totally freaked out. Basically, I was convinced that the plane was going to hit something. I could see the nose of the plane smashing into the cockpit, crushing the pilot and co-pilot, and I could hear the metal crunching forward, causing explosions, until the whole plane collapsed forward upon itself into a coin-shaped hunk of steel and flesh. I was aware of how high we were, and how, to a person standing on the ground, my life did not matter.
So, I cried quietly for a little bit and Daddy made me feel better.
Then we all played hangman and it took my mind off things, despite the inherently morbid premise of the game. (Guess the movie title or STRANGULATION!)
I was happy to land.
Afterwards, we went to the Tower to take some pictures of the big "1." In Mom's words, "This is the most important thing EVER. Grayson, you will DIE before they ever do this again."
We're all exhausted, and my braids are frizzy. I ran into Emily Panzer while we were there. She goes to University of Florida, which I (accidentally!!) called "F.U." She's really into her sorority. I told her I was an ADPi, and she said that at U.F., the ADPi's are like the rich southern belles with pearls. I laughed at that.
So now I'm home, and a still a little congested. It was a good trip, but I'm happy to be back in Texas.