So the recent events have not so much rendered me fearful of flying but prematurely exhausted at the thought of six hours in an arid cabin without water, book or laptop. So many have said that the days of carry-on luggage are coming to an end, and I just keep thinking to myself that, no matter how much we take away, if someone really wants to take down a plane, they will figure out a way.
These flutterings about airlines now charging for water and kids having to board the plane in the UK without the safety of their favorite teddy-bear in hand seem relatively inhuman to me, despite the fact that I understand these huge reactions to try and make travel safe.
Travel has never been safe. There is always a bit of danger in leaving your roots and home and going to places unknown. It seems that terrorists are trying very hard to kill my wanderlust; they have not yet succeeded.
In a completely unrelated realm, I am happily (and busily) at work in the town where I live for the first time in a year. I am just finishing up the La Jolla Playhouse Conservatory and overlapping a bit by helping out my fiance as he shoots a dance film in conjunction with San Diego Dance Theater. The film is about AIDS awareness and is directed towards teeneagers. I am only a P.A., but pleased as punch to have very little responsibility on this project seeing as I have so many other projects going up that require me to be somehow in charge.
This was the first dance-for-camera that many of these dancers (including Jean Isaacs) have done. They were agog at the catered lunch and craft services set up by the front door. I forgot how amazed we all were during "Soul Of Saturday Night" when we first walked onto the set. Dancers aren't used to such thoughtful treatment. We really do get kicked around quite a bit. Perhaps this is why my interests are turning elsewhere; I'm sick of getting no respect for what I do.
Today I got respect solely for touching up makeup on the dancers. I love good working environments. They are truly few and far between.
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