If not me, who? If not now, when?

Two days ago, actress/director Emma Watson (Hermione Granger of Harry Potter fame) delivered a speech at the UN to promote the #HeForShe campaign. If you haven't seen it, do yourself a favor and take 10 minutes to watch:

In her speech, she brought to light many truths, three of which particularly resonated with me. In a world where feminism is barely one second old on the calendar of humankind's time on Earth, with thousands of years to battle against, how do we change perceptions around a beautiful idea that has quickly turned ugly?

"Feminism" as a bad word
As a girl power-preaching, UC Berkeley-attending, equal rights-advocating, outspoken female athlete from a strong women-having household (hi mom!), even I am guilty of interpreting "feminism" and "feminist" with negative connotations. Man-hating. Hairy legs. Unwanted outspokenness. Feminism, as conveyed by the media and my immediate society growing up, meant anger, Birkenstocks and bra-burning.

Thankfully, I attended possibly the best university in the world for correcting my flatly wrong assumptions. As Watson points out, feminism, by definition, is "the belief that men and women should have equal opportunities." When taken literally, almost everyone I've ever met is a feminist. And my hope is some day (soon) feminism will be understood fully as all the great things for which it stands.

Feminists come in all forms
You don't have to attend rallies, lobby Congress, or speak at UN summits to be a feminist. Simply believing in the idea of gender equality and building up both women and men around you is a contribution. A movement needs leaders, but it also needs soldiers on the ground. Teach your daughters self-worth. Make it safe for your sons to show emotion. Little efforts can affect big change. Watson points out several examples of inadvertent feminists who made a large impact on her life:

My life is a sheer privilege because my parents didn’t love me less because I was born a daughter. My school did not limit me because I was a girl. My mentors didn't assume that I would go less far because I might give birth to a child one day. These influences are the gender equality ambassadors that made me who I am today. They may not know it but they are the inadvertent feminists needed in the world today. We need more of those.

Gender equality is a social norms movement. Right now it is widely believed, in most of the world's cultures, that women are second-class citizens. That men need to be tough. That a woman's sole purpose in life is to make babies and please her husband, and a man's is to be the breadwinner. That a woman's body belongs to her man. That boys should not like pink.

Changing perceptions is never quick nor easy, but it has to start with someone, somewhere.

If not me, who? If not now, when?

It goes both ways
Too often feminism is connected with double standards, that women want to have their cake and eat it too. For example, women want equal pay, yet still expect the man to pay the bill on a dinner date.

That's simply not feminism.

Feminism is equality for everyone, men too. Feminism means splitting the check, or paying next time. Do not mistake feminism for this unwanted mutation of the idea. Feminists want to have their cake, but they want to bake it, in equal partnership, and split it fifty-fifty with someone of the opposite sex.

[Feminism] is the theory of political, economic and social equality of the sexes.

Unless you live under a rock, you're probably aware of the recent domestic violence scandal involving the NFL right now. Ray Rice, Ray McDonald, Jonathan Dwyer and others have been charged or indicted within the past two months for some form of domestic violence, against women. Should they be punished? Yes. Should the NFL be under fire for not handling these (and many previous) cases more seriously? Absolutely. Is there a major problem of criminal culture alive and well in the NFL? You betcha.

But what about female soccer standout Hope Solo? She was arrested in June for allegedly beating up her sister and nephew.* After about two days making back page news, the matter was quietly forgotten. She was suspended for one NWSL game and paid a measly $2,500 fine, never missing a game for the USWNT.

Yesterday was the first time I've seen Hope Solo brought up in the same context as the NFL cases. U.S. Soccer is standing by its decision to allow her to continue playing and hardly anyone is giving it a second look. It's not headlining SportsCenter. It's not opening every local evening news tonight.

So what gives? How can we achieve full equality if we don't advocate for the bad along with the good? Equal means equal.

Let's forget the Birkenstocks, allow our boys to wear pink and suspend Hope Solo. Let's make feminism synonymous with its true meaning: equality.

*Every incidence of domestic violence is different in action, context, and circumstance. I am in no way equating or comparing in specificity any case mentioned in this post, only pointing out the similar legal charges.

Dear Ann Coulter,

It has recently come to my attention that you felt the need to explain to the country and to the world that our nation's increasing interest in soccer can only be a sign of America's moral decay.

Well, I'd like to respond. And I won't even go for the painfully obvious fact that almost everything you stand for is the real moral decay of this country.

But let's talk soccer.

You cite Ted Kennedy's Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 as the only reason Americans have an increasing interest in The Beautiful Game, and that no American whose great grandfather was born in America watches soccer.

My great grandparents were born here and I love watching soccer. In fact, I even played it for 19 years. Guess what? I've never even been to Mexico. And I bet I could circulate a petition that would garner thousands of signatures of people who watch and/or play soccer whose great grandparents didn't come here on a ship or by crossing the Rio Grande. I'm sorry that your parents kept you from any sort of diversity-driven life experiences while you enjoyed your clam bakes and Cotillion classes growing up in Connecticut. And by the way, have you ever driven by a field in Fenwick or Darien? Pleeenty of little white kids running around kicking soccer balls.

To address your next point, individual achievement (and failure) is a huge part of soccer. Ever heard of the Maradona's Hand of God? How about Roberto Baggio's missed PK in '94? Brandi Chastain and that black sports bra? Oh yeah, of course you haven't. You've been too busy with your head in the ground to ever open your mind to anything beyond the NRA and scheming ways to block women's right to the vote.

You say "No child's self-esteem has ever been bruised" in soccer. As a child who spent her formative years playing the game, I can tell you that some of the lowest points in my life came from soccer experiences. Missing PKs, blowing tap-ins over the cross bar, scoring own-goals, losing in a national championship, not getting selected for the ODP Regional Team... some days you were the absolute goat on the pitch and never wanted to show your face again. But you did. You always came back. And how you responded to those self-esteem bruising moments formed the resiliency and never-say-die character that has made a lot of ex-soccer players who they are today.

I'm not even sure what you mean when you say liberal moms like soccer because the girls can play with the boys, unlike in serious sports. Hundreds of little girls play hardball and basketball on boys' teams. Oh, and remember that little girl who plays football? Samantha Gordon? She makes her opposition look like toddlers trying to tackle Marshawn Lynch.

I'll keep my next point short. Your distaste for the fact that soccer matches can end up in 0-0 draws is a clear reflection of your ignorance of the drama and progression of a tactical duel. If this is your stance, don't you think our wars in the Middle East are just so darn boring? Who's winning? Why isn't there more action? Yawn. Those seem long and never-ending too. But wait... you support those... I'm confused.

I'll keep my next point even shorter. There's no prospect of major injury in soccer? First of all, the fact that you think that is a BAD thing (even if it was reality) is disturbing. Secondly, other than rugby, soccer players wear the least amount of protection of any sport. Thirdly, watch this.

Furthermore, congratulations for realizing that soccer is foreign! You got one thing right! It originated in England in the early 1800s. Guess what else originated in England centuries ago? The founders of the United States. Ann, unless you're a full-blooded Native American, I've got some news that will break your heart -- you're foreign too. Please try not to take that too hard.

Maybe the reason Americans have a newfound interest in soccer is that they're just discovering the beauty, grace, passion and tactical masterfulness of the game. And yes, it lasts a *whole* 90 minutes. How do we ever stay awake?! All us soccer fans should be thankful that we won't end up like Michael Jackson, right Ann? Too soon, by the way.

I have more for you, but in the off chance I ever get to meet you face to face, I'll save it for that. I'll just end this by saying I can tell you where you can stick your opposable thumbs... you know, the ones that separate you from all of us foreign, unevolved, soccer-loving beasts.

Sincerely,

Ex-soccer player, current soccer fan and future soccer mom,

Lisa K. Daiss

Facebook: A Study of Demographics

If Facebook were a country, it would have the third largest population in the world. With over a billion users, it stands to reason that nearly everyone we know or have known at some time uses the social network.

It's been around for 10 years and, chances are, you've probably cultivated a lot of "friends" on your own personal account. And, just as there are plenty of differences in personality among these people, so too are there for the way they use Facebook.

I'd like to take a moment to identify and describe the several types of Facebook users I've noticed among my 881 "friends" on Facebook.

The Oversharer

Often the most annoying Facebooker, The Oversharer feels the need to give you play-by-play updates on every mundane, minute detail of their lives. They use Facebook as an interactive journal, hoping to gain approval from their peers for going to the gym or cooking pasta for dinner. Because of their constant flooding of your homepage, they're usually quick to earn a spot on your "Hide From My Newsfeed" list.

The Stalker

The Stalker will ask for your friendship, then will be brought to mind only sparingly or never at all again. On rare occasion you will see them Like something or, during an even bluer moon, comment, but for the most part these are the silent snoops of Facebook. Their last non-passive action recorded on their wall is from two or more years ago. Fear The Stalker- their mysterious browsing habits may be cause for concern, especially if you are an Oversharer.

The Braggart

The Braggart will only post the positive to Facebook, usually about cool/fun/happy things happening in their personal lives. They paint a rose-colored pictured of their life and often, intentionally or not, make you constantly reevaluate your own. Do not be fooled by The Braggart- just because they choose to only post the good doesn't make their life so; Facebook just happens to be a great way to closely filter how they present themselves to others.

The Newscaster

Hear ye, hear ye! The Newscaster has taken it upon themselves to be the first to post any headline they deem even slightly important, as soon as it happens. They feel a civil responsibility to let you know, via your Facebook Newsfeed, of any and every event being reported in real time. Thank your lucky stars for these virtual Walter Cronkites and Diane Sawyerses- without them, you might have to actually seek a news source to know what's going on.

The Politicker

Ah, finally, a place to broadcast your political views to the masses with the safety of a screen intermediary. We all know the universal rule of never discussing religion and politics unless you want to pick a fight, but The Politicker has no reservations here- because Facebook provides a confrontation safety net. Also helpful to the Politicker is the plethora of (credible or not) political .gifs, memes and propaganda that can be transferred from one webpage to their status in the blink of an eye.

The Therapy Patient

This person uses Facebook as a means of emotional release, often airing their dirty laundry to everyone in their social circles. To them, Facebook is a free, collective psychiatrist. They post their deepest, darkest feelings and secrets with abandon- often making you internally question, "Why would they put that on Facebook?" as you peruse your Newsfeed. Interestingly, their Facebook friends will often act as a support group to provide deep emotional support, usually in the form of Likes or consoling comments such as, "So sry. Hope u feel better!"


Are there any Facebook types I missed? Tell me by giving me a description and a playful name for a demographic you regularly notice in your Facebook world!

The College Degree Myth

Growing up, there are few universal truths agreed upon and echoed by nearly everyone. The sun will rise, the grass is green, and you need to go to college.

Whether you are a spawn of the 1% or a child living below the poverty line, getting into college is a shared goal that spans every socioeconomic level in the U.S. Why? Because if you go to college, you'll graduate and land a good job and have a house with a white picket fence and be able to provide for your spouse and 2.5 kids. That notion has been ingrained in all of us since we were first able to comprehend language. While that may have been true for our parents and maybe even our older siblings, for Gen Y-ers and Millenials- brace yourself- it's bogus.

When our parents were graduating high school, getting into college was less competitive, attending it was more affordable, and there were a plethora of jobs waiting for them once they graduated. My, how things have changed. The self-perpetuated myth that everyone needs to go to college to have even a chance of success in this world has made for plummeting acceptance rates, rising tuition costs (classic supply and demand) and a nearly impenetrable job market.

In 1964, just a few years before my parents began college, 15% of California high school graduates alone were invited to attend UC Berkeley- and they admitted everyone who met the academic requirements. In 2012, two years after I graduated, the combined national and international acceptance rate was 18%. In the 1960s, Berkeley's yearly tuition cost less than $600. For a California resident in 2012, yearly tuition (just tuition) was $13,000. Non-residents paid close to $22,000/year. I'm no mathematician or economist, but I'd say that more than accounts for inflation.

Those who are not lucky enough to have parents able to pay for their tuition or earn scholarships need to take out student loans- and that's nearly 60% of us, according to American Student Assistance. With interest rates just below 10%, by the time my peers graduated college a good number of them were close to $100K in debt. The current total student loan debt in the U.S. is close to $1,000,000,000,000 (never seen a number that high? It's trillion).

But that's OK- now that you've graduated and have a college degree, you'll be able to get a job and make lots of money to pay it off lickity-split, right? WRONG.

Unless you landed a sweet gig in engineering, computer science or consulting, you'll either a) still be working toward some specialized field like law or medicine where you'll need to spend five more years and another $100K+ or b) have some humanities degree that will get you three unpaid internships and a job at Hot Dog on a Stick, with your debt building and building thanks to that 8% interest rate. Debt increases, credit worsens. Grab a shovel, it's going to be a long dig.

I'm not going to bore you with any more stats, but that's where the majority of Gen Y-ers and Millenials stand. The numbers don't lie and we all have plenty of qualitative data that's unfortunately very close to home.

So why encourage your kids to go to college? Unless they are extremely bright in a field that will pay very well in the long run, or you as a parent can afford to send them, or they have a talent that will be awarded a scholarship- why would you set your child up for lifelong financial failure and woe?

Maybe these alternatives make more sense:

• Learn a trade. Apprentice with an electrician, plumber or contractor right out of high school and soon you'll be making a decent $40K-$60K salary. Without college debt, you can save a good portion of that and who knows... maybe go to college someday when you can pay for it.

• Join the military. It's always a gamble, but right now we are in a time of relative peace and enlisting in the military for a few years will give you great life skills, look dynamite on your resume, and give you money to pay for college via your GI Bill.

I'm not saying that no one should go to college, I'm just saying college isn't for everyone. This myth that having a college degree will automatically make you successful is alive and well in our society and it's directly contributing to the financial ailment of America.

Guess What I Did Today!

We all have those "friends" on Facebook, Twitter, etc. etc. who update us on all the minutia of their everyday lives. "Havin pork chops for dinner. Yummm lol" and "Just did laundry and one of my socks is missing!" aren't uncommon snippets I come across when I scroll through my newsfeed. Do I get annoyed sometimes when I have to sift through the "Going to the gym"s and "It's only Tuesday :("s? Sure. Do I sometimes do the same thing? Probably. At first, being the Luddite I am, I blamed it on computers and the Internet and this new-fangled-technology-centric society, but then it dawned on me...

This is not a new phenomenon. People have been recording the inane details of their lives since the beginning of recorded history, starting with cave paintings of how the earliest Homo Sapiens killed their dinner- ancient versions of "Havin pork chops for dinner. Yummm lol."

These early cave paintings are spread across the continents and span oceans, before people traveled very far from home. They have been found in the dusty Australian deserts and the highest mountains in Mongolia. The need to record life events is almost as instinctual as breathing. Throughout the years, the mediums through which people etched their goings-on have evolved with technology; paintings and storytelling before writing, journal and letter writing for the affluent before widespread literacy, then journal and letter writing on a wider level. All were similar in one important aspect: they were personal and not widespread.

Then the Internet came along and changed everything. (I wonder how many subjects you can say THAT about).

Facebook, Twitter, and other social media sites that allow one person to display anything to the masses are really just instantaneous, widespread cave paintings and journals. Technology has evolved and so has the character of the "recording" instinct. Instead of writing down every single detail of your day in a journal, you write them down and publish them to a mass audience.

The repercussions of this "new" phenomenon come with negative and positive effects- sometimes to the extreme. On one hand, knowing what people in your networks are doing all the time makes you feel part of a closer community (this sense of community is not only the subject of another post, but serious study in the field of media effects academia). On the other hand, statuses and Tweets based on what you did last Saturday night have been known to be the cause of firings and divorces.

There are two factors we have not really figured out as they relate to this personal diarrhea-of-the-Internet: the instantaneousness and false sense of privacy. It might be in our best interest to take some time before we post anything to really think about 1. If we should post it and 2. Who might see it. Everyone, with the right resources, can see everything you have ever done on the Internet. Technology is evolving faster than our social commonsense.

So, the next time you're scanning through your newsfeeds and see a bunch crap you don't really care to read about regarding your "friends'" lives, just remember- our earliest cavemen ancestors did the same thing. We can't help it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go pick up Grant from the airport, make fish tacos, and watch some Golden Girls before going to sleep.

White. Middle Class. Boy.

If an alien landed on earth and spent one day soaking up all of the information, statistics, knowledge and pop culture it possibly could, its view of the world probably wouldn't be much different than our own.  Our economy is failing. Asians are good at math. Fire is hot. Only minorities go around killing each other.

Wait. What was that last one? Yeah, only minorities go around killing each other. Just take a look at the racial makeup in our state and federal penitentiaries. Duh. And haven't you ever heard Tupac rap? All the killing goes on in the ghetto. Everyone knows that.

That poor, misguided alien. Oh, and us.

Let's review the five most notable mass killings on American soil since Columbine in 1999 and a profile of the perpetrators. One caveat- I will neither publish any names nor photos. The reason? I think the Morgan Freeman hoax writer said it best:

You want to know why people [commit heinous mass killings]? This may sound cynical, but here's why. It's because of the way the media reports it. Flip on the news and watch how we treat the Batman theater shooter and the Oregon mall shooter like celebrities. Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris are household names, but do you know the name of a single victim of Columbine?

Disturbed people who would otherwise just off themselves in their basement see the news and want to top it by doing something worse and going out in a memorable way. Why a grade school? Why children? Because he'll be remembered as a horrible monster instead of a sad nobody. So congratulations, sensationalist media, you’ve just lit the fire for someone to top this and knock off a day care center or maternity ward next.

Couldn't agree more, Fake Morgan. The media has indeed created a sick culture of one-upmanship that needs a serious overhaul. Now back to the profiles:

1999: Columbine shooting. 39 total injured and killed

· Perp(s): White middle class boy, 18, and white middle class boy, 17

2007: Virginia Tech shooting. 57 total injured and killed

· Perp(s): Asian middle class college student, 23

2011: Tuscon shooting. 19 total injured and killed

· Perp(s): White middle class boy, 22

2012: Aurora movie theater shooting. 70 total injured and killed

· Perp(s): White middle class PhD student, 25

2012: Newtown shooting. 2 injured, 27 killed

· Perp(s): White middle class boy, 20

Aside from the Asian outlier, do we see a pattern here? White. Middle class. Boy (25 and under). OK, we've got that part down, but the question remains... WHY?

My theory is an oversimplified answer to a much more complex question, but I think it has valid roots. White, middle class folks perhaps lead the blandest lives of anyone else in the U.S. Add a little testosterone and youthful lack of judgment and, voila.

White, middle class boys are in a unique situation. They fall into the socioeconomic category wherein their parents have just enough money to give them their own rooms, providing an isolation factor; to be able to afford weapons and other ammo (thanks for the allowance, mom and dad); computers and internet through which to buy said weapons on their middle class parents' credit cards (or their own if they’re old enough); and video game systems and other informational resources (again, internet) to cultivate sick ideas and desires related to killing.

And, unless they have an outstanding skill or personality, they lack identity in this colorful nation of ours. Let’s face it- from colonization until 1975-ish, being a white male with money was the best case scenario for anyone in the U.S. Now, it’s arguably the worst (at the very least in terms of identity).

The easiest way to gain notoriety? Make international news! The easiest way to do that? Kill a bunch of people!

These kids have just enough means to afford everything with the capacity to mold them into mass killers, feel just ordinary enough to want to stand out, and have just enough isolation to carry out the task without any suspicion.

The truth is that there is no magic formula we can conjure to solve the profile puzzle of these perps and future ones. Violent video games don’t make everyone who plays them feel the need to off everyone in their neighborhood. Not everyone who was ever bullied at school buys a machete and plays butcher with their schoolmates. Wearing a big trench coat and combat boots is not required garb to acquire homemade explosives materials.

But there are a few similarities in traits that should not be ignored:

White. Middle Class. Boy.

Ohio Odyssey

It all started after a perfect autumn day in the Midwest with my best friend- a hike through fiery foliage, indulgence in Cincinnati signature chili and, of course, pumpkin spice lattes.

My flights to and from Ohio were: San Diego--> Denver--> Dayton, and vice versa.

The week leading up to my trip, I had been vigilant in monitoring the weather in both Denver and Dayton, late season thunderstorms and early snowstorms being threats in mid-October. This weekend, flying in and out of Dayton and Denver both ways offered clear blue skies and ideal flying conditions. No one could have guessed that San Diego, where the weather never strays outside of a twenty-degree spectrum, would be my travel kryptonite.

I should have known everything was running too smoothly to be true. In terms of air travel, I wouldn't even call my luck "decent." The first three legs of my journey had gone off without a hitch- no delays, and we even arrived early in Denver. When the plane's wheels left the ground on the fourth and final leg of my trip, Denver--> San Diego, I let my ever-present cynical shield down, exhaled a sigh of contentment, and nestled in to enjoy the cinematic magnificence of Lord of the Rings.

Big mistake.

Two hours into the flight, just prior to our initial descent, a message from the cockpit: the fog in San Diego is too thick to land and we're making a U-turn back to Denver.

Close to four hours on an airplane and I'm back to where I started, at 11:30 PM, with no flights until morning and work at 8 AM a thousand miles away. Is Southwest going to pay for my hotel? Is Southwest going to tip my hotel shuttle driver? Is Southwest going to pay me for tomorrow's lost wages? Is Southwest going to explain to my boss that I never miss work without giving notice like this? Is Southwest going to find me and pay for food at 2 AM when nothing in the airport is open? Negative.

Luckily, I'm sitting in the fifth row, so there's only 20-ish people that will be ahead of me for rebooking once we deplane. I figure I'll be on a flight first thing in the morning and get to work less than an hour late. Not too terrible.

Wrong.

Southwest sends two measly customer service reps to help 150 people figure out every aspect of their lives for the next 12 hours in a strange city. Twentieth in line, it takes me over an hour to reach the front. I ask for the first flight available to San Diego in the morning. They tell me 12:55 PM.

Wait a second. You have a Southwest plane here in Denver that is supposed to be in San Diego tomorrow, which means it will be empty in the morning. Why don't you just pile everyone back on that plane and fly us out to San Diego at 6 AM? I know there are a lot of logistics involved in running an airport, but stuff like this happens all the time- you're telling me there's not even a little flexibility? My customer service rep had no rebuttal to my logic. He actually agreed.

OK, fine. Work's scrubbed tomorrow... nothing I can do there. It looks really bad for someone whose only been there for a few months to not show up for work, but there was nothing I could geographically do.

Sleeping arrangements. If I had an early flight I would just sleep on the airport floor, but it's an afternoon flight- may as well find a hotel and get some shut-eye.

Grant the Great works on the hotel situation and finds me a decent deal at the airport La Quinta, one of the few hotels with a 24-hour free shuttle (remember, by the time I got my new flight it was 1 AM). Cabbing anywhere in Denver would land me in the poor house, everything's so spread out. So I call the La Quinta, make a reservation and ask for the shuttle to pick me up. This is an "airport La Quinta," but if you've ever been to the Denver Airport, you know how massive it is. The La Quinta was about 10 miles away from my terminal.

Ray, the desk attendant at the La Quinta, tells me the shuttle got in an accident earlier and they need to get a new one from their base. I ask how long that's going to take and he says the shuttle will pick me up in 15 minutes. Doable.

Twenty minutes later I call Ray back. He tells me 10 minutes, it'll be there.

Fifteen minutes later, Grant calls Ray. Ray tells Grant 10 more minutes.

And on.... and on.... for an hour and fifteen minutes. And the best part? The midnight airport construction. Nonstop jackhammering right next to where I'm supposed to be picked up.

2:30 AM rolls around and a janky, unmarked rapist van pulls up to the curb. A little foreign man rolls the window down and attempts to yell over the jackhammering to me.

"LA KWEENTAH?!" he shouts.

I sigh, survey the van, and give him my best "Why the hell not." I'm too tired/agitated for good sense.

Riding shotgun in the supposed "La Kweentah" shuttle, I throw a little prayer upstairs in hopes that I'm not about to be raped and murdered in Denver.

We actually pull up to a La Quinta. Phew. I check in, get my room on the smoking floor and on the way see a cockroach scuttle next to the wall. Yum.

I finally get to my room at 2:45 AM, take a shower, and watch Married with Children in vain hopes to fall asleep. I hadn't eaten since the chili in Cincinnati (which wasn't exactly agreeing with my stomach) because I was planning on coming home to a cereal feast in San Diego that night. Literally too pissed off and hungry to sleep, I toss and turn all night. Not a wink was had.

I won't go into too much detail about this next part but... of course, right on schedule... Aunt Flo decides to come visit first thing in the morning. It's not that I didn't know about its imminence- I just planned to be in San Diego when it happened. 31:1 odds the red river would runneth on this of all days... I have to scour five neighboring hotels before I finally return victorious from my tampon hunt. Do people not menstruate in Denver?

Finally, with some continental breakfast in my system, a fresh tampon and a brand new day to tackle, I head to the airport for what would turn out to be a (thankfully) much less eventful last leg.

Dayton--> Denver--> San Diego in 23 hours.