February 10, 2005

This time, I Go Up

I spent the last week con-less in Connecticut, broken-cabled in Boston, and un-internetted in NYC, so obviously I have a LOT to tell you. I met some really fantastic people and have BOOK RECS for you and I ate my body weight in seafood, but the BOOK part of the trip aside, I made a very important discovery which I will now share with you. Ready? Okay! Here it is:
Nature---you know, the green parts of earth with all the trees and mountains in it and the rivers and all---is actually rather pretty.

I KNOW! If you have been reading this blog for a long time, you may remember that whole thing about me Not Liking Songs and remaining pitifully unmoved by The Wondrous Beauty of the Earth and how among my inner circle it is Universally Acknowledged that I am Dead Inside? (If you are new, run read this before continuing.)

You're back? And no doubt thinking less of me. BUT, tree fans and stream lovers everywhere will be pleased to know that I MAY have have taken three tiny, baby steps toward experiencing a conversion. Yes, indeedy! Something happened this trip that made my wizened wisp of ectoplasmic fluff gasp and stretch itself a little toward the sun --- just like a REAL SOUL!

Before I ever left, my publicist sent me an e-mail and asked if I wanted to take the train from CT to Boston, because otherwise I would have to fly on an 8 seater turbo-prop. I replied, "I ain't afraid a' no little tiny planes." So after a SMASHINGLY FUN dinner (the CT Indie-bookstore-folks were a REALLY fun crowd, and my editor came along too and my agent and a couple of my ALL TIME FAVORITE PEOPLE from Warner and we ate at possibly the second best restaurant on the planet --I had this swordfish and it came with BUTTERNUT SQUASH RISOTTO so subtle and evocative that the Lord must have been personally guiding the hand of an already preternaturally gifted chef) BUT AFTER ALL THAT....pause to inhale...I went to the airport and climbed onto the Smallest Plane in the Universe. There was NO CO PILOT. There was just a guy named ERIC with a MAP and a COMPASS.

No, really.

But ERIC IS VERY COOL -- he let me SIT UP IN THE CO-PILOT'S chair. I was terrified of TWITCHING and swiping some vital control and sending us all plummeting forthwith to our spectacular doom, so I folded myself up into the smallest possible wad and sat there barely daring to breath while Eric clicked around 6 zillion incomprehensible levers. I saw I had two PEDALS under my feet and I said to him, "SO that's the gas the that's the brake, but where is the GEAR SHIFT?" and he looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted a thick purple forked tongue and waggled it at him until he realized I WAS KIDDING.

Then we took off. Magical, magical, magical---literally. Science did not have anythign to do with it. Physics was distant and uninvolved. I feel very certain that a fleet of teeny medicine men was secreted in the wing storage compartment, flogging the air with the bodies of freshly killed sparrows to create massive amounts of "lift Juju." Because we just took off and flew straight up into the sky. I wanted so badly to lift my hands up but I was too scared of that whole "Whanging an instrument panel and causing us all to die" thing.

Once we were up, I couldn't stop GOOGLING AROUND like the world's biggest airborne tourist. I spent the whole flight just LOOKING AT NATURE even though I was HALFWAY through a fantastic book I was dying to get back to (BROKEN FOR YOU, by Stephanie Kallos). We stayed at about 700 feet, flying near the river, over gorgeous fields of frozen woods.

I saw the cape off to my right, watched Boston grow on the horizon, and we flew over it and then turned back and approached from the other side. Eric angled us downwards and I watched the ground coming up to meet us, and I wasn't scared at all, it seemed PERFECT, and when we touched, it was like the plane was a Jesus Bug and the runway was water, we SKIMMED our way back onto the earth, lightly, lightly, and I, Princess Dead Inside, was crying like a GREAT. BIG. DORK.

Then I was in BOSTON, but I have to tell you about that tomorrow.

Posted by joshilyn at February 10, 2005 2:19 PM

I'm from CT, so curious to know where you went to eat that had the best Butternut Squash Risotto (sounds delish!)

Sounds like a great plane flight.

Posted by: dee at February 10, 2005 4:44 PM

Lovely . . . I have goosebumps. I went to New York City March of 2004. It was my first trip on a commercial airplane. EVERYTHING was so new and fantastic and I gawked out the window the whole time. Anyway, as we departed from Newark, the plane banked and I was looking back at the NYC skyline and the Statue of Liberty. I was completely overcome and began to weep. You just brought all that back to me. Thank you. I'm glad you had such a beautiful moment.

Posted by: Dana at February 10, 2005 5:33 PM

In other words, having fueled your ectoplasmic fluff with heavenly (and therefore more bouyant)foods, you broke your earthly bonds and lo, thou didst actually SEE the forest for the trees? Hot diggity! Now, you KNOW that the next time up, you will be inexplicably compelled to actually reach out with your trembly writer's fingers and STEER. You will SO be hooked for life. *big ol' grin*

Posted by: David at February 10, 2005 6:50 PM