one hundred & ninety five: fly

  • fly me to the moon…the frank sinatra song
  • how, like so many kids, i often dreamed about sprouting a pair of wings and being able to fly – how magical that would be
    • in that vein, how i tried, so very often, to fly as a little girl – jumping off roofs, fences, sheds – and how one attempt (from a fence; i believe i was trying to be mary poppins?) ended in fairly significant scrapes, bruises, and a decent head knock when my foot got caught in between the fence boards and instead of flying, i flopped headfirst, suspended upside down by my pinched, bloodied leg
  • how much i love taking off in planes…how the roaring, and the gentle gravity pinning your body to the seat, is like a lullaby, a hug
  • how running, when i was younger, fit, and a significant number of pounds lighter, felt like flying
  • seeing jeff goldblum in the movie ‘the fly’ as a little girl and being simultaneously disgusted and intrigued at the scenes where he puked on things before consuming them (i don’t know why i was allowed to watch this as a small kid)
  • the satisfying, palm-smacking arrival of a really high, pop fly ball in my glove
  • how so many people, including two people really close to me, are quite terrified of flying, and whose nightmares feature plane crashes regularly
  • the frequency with which i have fantasized about jumping on a plane and showing up on pocketbrit’s doorstep (which i wouldn’t do, not really, coz it would freak her out totally and that’s not how i want us to meet)
  • how simultaneously liberating and frustrating it is to fly a kite
written april 12/19; backdated