A city girl's search for paradise at home and around the world.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
At 33,000 Feet
The last time I was at an airport, I ended up in a corner near Gate 30 attempting to breathe through my first-ever panic attack. I leave for San Francisco next week and the thought of flying isn't a concern. In fact, it's the tranquility when my day gets chaotic.
There's something serene about being 33,000 feet in the air. Near the clouds. Away from the worries on the ground.
Whether you travel to another part of the world, or to your next door neighbor's house, there's always something worthwhile waiting. The search for paradise - personal, spiritual and experimental - can be exhausting, but if you have a little fun in your search you never know what you might find. This blog is about those experiences.
"Frogger" is a nickname I got after my first trip to Paris, when my overeager self dashed through traffic across a 4-lane rotary, narrowly escaping death in a way that reminded my girlfriends of the quintessential Atari game. I'd like to think I earned a 100-point bonus. I'm a journalist who savors different countries, cultures and life experiences on my path to personal paradise, and I invite you to join me. I promise we won't get run over.
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