It's 7:05 on a Saturday Morning -- Why Am I Up?

Because I just took my friend Amanda to the airport. Amanda used to live in Atlanta, but now she lives in Phoenix. I miss her. A lot.

We have fun chatting on our airport travels, though -- I usually pick her up and drop her off, since I'm so conveniently close to Hartsfield-Jackson International. We talk about all kinds of stuff -- church stuff, boy stuff, music stuff, fashion stuff. She's one of those people I will definitely look up in heaven when we're all dead . . . I know she'll have done incredible things in her life, and I'll want to ask her all about it.

ANYWAY, I felt like writing this post because I thought, "Oh, man -- how am I going to get up so early and drive to and from the airport?" Well, I discovered something about myself: I love early-morning driving as well as night-driving. There's really something invigorating about driving on an empty interstate. My mind seems to work best during these solitary driving moments when I feel like I'm one of the only people awake in the world. I cherish that time.

Airports have always been fascinating to me, anyway, and I remember loving to see people off or welcome them home. I wonder if seeing and hearing planes or watching the bustle of people run like mad to catch their plane incites some kind of adventurous spirit in me. I go to the airport, and I want to see the world!

So what am I saying? I dunno, really. But if you ever fly into or out of Altanta at a very odd hour, I'll pick you up or drop you off, whichever it happens to be.


Thing I'm thankful for: milk chocolate chip oatmeal cookies.