For me, life is a lot like the Minneapolis airport. Sometimes it catches you completely off guard. Like when I got off the plane and I felt like I'd been punched in the gut because my brain forgot to prepare me for being there. As soon as I got off the plane I realized the last time I was there was when I was on my way home from Hawaii and I got an urgent message from Big Brother to call him. I didn't want to because I knew what he'd tell me, so I delayed. I finished reading the book I was reading. I shuffled around a bit. And finally I called. And he told me the news about my dad. When I got off the plane this time all those memories rushed back in a second - how I wandered around like a lost soul weeping; wanting to call someone and talk about it but just not being able to. I was angry at my brain for repressing the memory. So, sometimes life is hard and sad and it sucker punches you when you're not looking.
As I was walking around, feeling angry at the airport for its past wrongs against me, I realized that I had pleasant memories of the airport as well. I remembered the time I almost missed my connecting flight to Washington because I had a long layover so I made the goal to walk to every single gate in the airport and I was too stubborn to give up when time was running short. And the time that I met up with Sleakbean on our way to London and we found the creepy Proactiv vending machine and I accidentally went into the men's restroom. And the time Lady MacBeth and I changed into our pajamas and Legolas made fun of us when the three of us were on our way to Japan. (It was worth all the mocking to be in our jammies for the long flight.)
So, I guess the point is (if there really is a point?) I can't hate the Minneapolis airport because of one bad thing that happened to me there. I'm still sad about the event, of course, but there were a lot of happy events there too. And it's still a jumping off place for going to a lot of other places. The analogy is that in life a lot of sad and bad things happen, but I can't hate that either. My life isn't just the bad things. It's the sum total of all the events in my life. All the good and bad that happen are just part of what makes up the whole experience. Sometimes things go smoothly and sometimes they're delayed and sometimes you realize that you've been waiting at the wrong gate for an hour. On the whole, my life is actually pretty great - filled with moving walkways and over priced massage chairs.
But I still probably shouldn't wander into the men's restroom.
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