Thursday


Got flown in one of these little guys today.
Rest assured; I am alive.
Not going to lie, I had a mental (perhaps partially physical) anxiety attack.
We were met by some unexpected paparazzi upon landing: true story.
Not sure exactly what that was about.
I guess that's what you get for being privately flown into one of the wealthiest parts of California.
Alas, I am safe and sound on the sandy beaches of Newport.
We took a night stroll down to the beach, parked our rears in the sand, and listened to the crashing waves.
It's chilly. But beautiful. There's something humbling about looking out into the dark ocean.
It's intimidating, yet enticing.
I'm now giving Mother Nature the silent treatment for her 47% humidity. Some form of sick retaliation for not recycling, I'm assuming.

Karma.


2 comments:

Sarah Eileen said...

Im glad you are alive, and want to see more pictures of the beach, shoot those cuties you are babysitting. Love you see you when you get home!

Taylor said...

That, my friend, is a Cessna Chancellor. It has a saftey record that rivals many commercial jets. Pretty jealous though, not gonna lie!