Keely Copeland

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Guest Post: Thor on Visiting Keely

After I ruined Thor’s Christmas, he graciously agreed to keep me company in Florida. During his seven hours of mandatory morning journaling, he opted into the family tradition of morning musings. The results are below, with my favorite parts bolded. Highlights: my general stinginess, Thor’s disgust over having to invite Shrek to parties at Shrek’s house, and Thor’s views on how I spend my time. I encourage you to linger over the daily agenda, which I plan to print and frame.

Hello World! 

It’s me ya boi (Cornelius Rutherford Carney III (the third)) coming to you live from the beautiful, sunny, sandy shores of Boynton Beach International Trailerpark adjacent to the Boyton City Dump and Nuclear Waste Plant. Very worldly I know…how could a poverty-stricken, malnourished, garbage boy make it to such a prestigious location you ask? Well my dear sweet sister Keely canceled a beautiful family Christmas weekend that had been planned for months and was subsequently flabbergasted to learn she would be spending Christmas Day alone. Upon her discovery, she took action and invited down the greatest person she knows who has nothing going on and no prospects in their life that could immediately fly to Florida on 7-hour notice (me). Eager to escape the arctic temperatures of SE Michigan, I happily accepted the invitation excited for some sun, fun, and hopefully a warm meal. So here I am, in Florida doing my favorite thing of all time……….journaling. Surprised? Me too.

After getting to the AirBnB at 1 AM following my release from the Fort Lauderdale International Airport Police Holding Facility I was excited to fall asleep and maybe sleep in to try to forget the stressors of my flight to Florida alas I was mistaken. After a brief sleep riddled with night terrors from the flight in I awake to the startling whir of an electric motor starting up and grinding through what could only be described as a sack of nuts and bolts being blended together with a rhinoceros femur, and a pterodactyl egg for 15 minutes at 5:45 AM. Finally the shrill, ear splitting noise comes to an end and I desperately close my eyes hoping to drift back off to sleep when I hear the noise. Soft foot steps slowly approach the boiler room where my sleeping mat has been placed. I squeeze my eyes tightly and pray for the first time in my life to make her turn, go into the next room and let me rest. But alas no. The footsteps came to a rest outside of the windowless hovel that contained my newspaper bed and burlap potato sack blanket. I knew she had come for me. Despite knowing she was there the sharp rap on my door still made me jump near 10 feet high in terror. The door swung open I was handed a mug of the bolt and pterodactyl juice “WAKE UP THOR!!!!” She bellowed with a deep voice that filled the space and was accentuated by thunder and lightning.  “It’s 6 AM it’s time to journal!!!!”

Terrified of this omnipotent being that could summon lightning and thunder just to accentuate her morning well wishes and apparently had enough resources to make pterodactyl egg smoothies every day, I scrambled from my potato sack and quickly obeyed. As I rushed to brush my teeth I paused with a smile on my face looking at the toothpaste “Gluten free” it said. How kind of them to remember my 14-year struggle with celiac disease, odd that their remembrance only spread to the toothpaste as the rest of the house is filled with bread, pasta, and somehow extra gluten potato chips but I’ll take what I can get. My musings were cut short by Keely rattling off our schedule for the day.

6 AM- 1PM: Journaling

105 PM - 305 PM Searching nature for crystals and other cool rocks

3:19- 4:21 Our first yoga session of the day

4:22-4:37 Drink tea or ayahuasca (my choice) 

4:40-5:03 Second Yoga

5:07-5:45 Recovery Meeting (show up fashionably late and leave rudely early)

6-7 Yoga

7-8 Grounding 

8-9 Watch all Harry Potter Movies at once on 4x speed

9-10 Meditation 

10-6 AM Beauty sleep

That brings us to now. The start of my journal. Although you all know me to be a very enlightened and well-adjusted individual you may be surprised to find this is my first time ever journaling so I got some tips from Keely. Some of the most useful were to use a recent experience to tell a story, use a metaphor or simile, let people know you are crazy and embrace it, and use horrendous pictures sure to embarrass your loved ones. So I decided to write about my flight down to beautiful Florida. 

As previously mentioned it all began with Keely canceling Christmas which was due to be celebrated on Sunday December 18th because Shrek works actual Christmas Day and my mom said we had to include him this year if we were planning on using his house for the party. Ugh. Moms. So with our fake Christmas date picked out we all make our arrangements everyone will spend the whole weekend at Shrek’s house in Philly which will be a rare get-together with Keely in China, me in Michigan, and everyone else somewhere in between. Although in school I was hounded to arrive as early as possible to get as much family time as possible because we never see each other. So I wake up at 6 on Friday take 2 exams and scramble out the door to embark on the 9-hour drive from Michigan to Philly. Happy for a reprieve from the stressors of my medical education I am floating on air eager to spend a weekend playing cards and verbally assaulting my family members. After 2 exams, 1 speeding ticket, and a 9-hour drive  I arrive to Shrek’s house and see not a single light on. Odd…..I was supposed to be the last one in where was everyone? I stumble through the doorway of his unfamiliar house and find a light switch to turn on. No suitcases, no coats or extra shoes….it doesn’t look like anyone has traveled here for fake Christmas. I call my Mom worried something happened. Ring ring ring….no answer. My concerns growing I rapidly dial Sam….he always picks up, he’ll explain where everyone is ring ring ring….no answer. I work my way through everyone in the family before finally calling Shrek he answers on the first ring desperate for any human interaction the disgusting barnyard animal that he is. I explain that I am sitting in his living room waiting for fake Christmas after my 9 hr drive and 2 exams and 1 speeding ticket to which he replies “Oh yeah that was canceled, didn’t anyone tell you?”

I sit dumbfounded. No one had told me. Driving my 2016 civic with 150k miles on it I blazed through a blizzard, rush hour traffic, and 3 police barricades all to make it on time. All for naught. I sit there for the rest of the night in the blistering cold of Shrek’s new home because he hasn’t figured out how to work the heat. I wake up to a text on my frost-covered phone. I use the fog emanating from my breath to try to clear the screen. Who could it be from what could it say?

It was from Keely “Hello Thor, after canceling fake Christmas I just realized I will be alone for real Christmas on the 25th, lets's see if we can get you down here to keep me company.”

First it was suggested I drive but that’s a 20-hour road trip after driving 9 hrs and, as discussed, my car would likely not make it. I suggested she could use her frequent flyer miles to get me a flight to which she was outraged. She worked hard to accumulate those miles…how dare I try to steal them. We finally settled on me finding an industrial-looking train hopping on and seeing where the tracks take me and then re-evaluating. I scoped out a good spot in the woods with the right terrain that would allow me to jump onto the high-speed locomotive and catch a ride to god knows where if I timed it correctly.  Right as I am building up my speed for my leap onto the train, my phone rings, it’s Keely. “WAIT DON’T JUMP……I found a $29 flight on Spirit Airlines it leaves at 4 AM and gets in at 9 PM do you want it?” You bet your ass I did. 

You may not know this but TSA doesn’t open until 5 AM so with a 4 AM flight the reason the ticket is so inexpensive is because you have to figure out how to get into the locked-down airport without being arrested. I’d pass along how I accomplished this but don’t want anyone else to take advantage of it and get the loophole closed down. ANYWAY. I arrive at my gate and finally pull up my boarding pass. To my delight, I look at the seat and it just says. “FIRST.” Wow, first class for only $29?!? Spirit is the best. They call the first boarding group and oddly I am the only person to stand up….I thought for $29 dollars more people would spring for first class but hey to each their own. I walk down the ramp, greet the crew and turn to see there are no first-class seats and all of the seats do indeed have letters and numbers designating they belong to people. My stomach drops fearing what this could mean. Concerned I show my pass to the crew bewildered as to where I could sit for this flight. The kindly Stewardess points to the aisle…not an aisle seat….no the 18-inch hallway that passengers walk through to find their seats. I sit down in the aisle bewildered that I had to get on first my concern building with each second. Now as I sit there the other passengers are lined up and ready to board….how will they get past me….why am I sitting here? At this point, the kindly stewardess approaches me and says “It’s time” as she slowly but powerfully forces my shoulders down and straightens my legs so I am lying face up on the aisle floor at the very front of the Spirit Airlines 4 AM flight to Fort Lauderdale Florida. Apparently, the $29 ticket is for the floor mat seat as Spirit wants to keep their planes as tidy as possible, all customers must wipe their musty feet over my decrepit body and walk over me to find their seats. It was hell. We all know how many people Spirit tries to cram on a plane. There were 120 passengers on a 75-seat plane. I have internal bleeding. Finally, everyone is seated, the captain taxi’s to the runway with minimal parts falling off of the plane and we take off. 

“This may not be so bad,” I think to myself as we are reaching cruising altitude WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN EVERY LIGHT IN THE DARK PLANE TURNS ON AT ONCE. “If there is a doctor on board please come to the back of the plane as we have a medical emergency.” I look back and see no one get up wait a few seconds and figure well I am only 65 days away from becoming a doctor I guess I could see what’s wrong. I scramble to the back only to be looked at in disgust….I can see it in all of their faces…what is the floor mat doing here? I reply to their non-verbal question by saying I work in medicine and am here to help. The crew, the man having the emergency, and a toddler in the back row all burst out laughing and tell me they don’t need help from a floor mat. 

At this point, my normally calm demeanor has had enough. I could handle being a floor mat, but to disregard my medical knowledge is a line I will not tolerate being crossed. So I figured if they were going to try to do my job I would just have to take someone else’s job. I decided then and there for the remainder of the flight I would be an Air Marshall——a secret government operative waiting for crimes to happen and springing into action at the last second to prevent tragedy. Unfortunately, this job was much more boring than I anticipated so I decided to lower the bar for what constituted an air crime. 

Listening to audio on your phone without headphones? Ejecto-Seato bitch you’re going out the emergency exit at 30,000 feet.

Taking one of the middle armrests when in an aisle or window seat? Dismemberment.

Crying baby? SHUT THAT BABY UP THIS IS SPIRIT AIRLINES FOR PETE’S SAKE NOT SOME TRASH LIKE FRONTIER.  

I was fairly confident I became a hero on that plane. My efforts to clean up the flight were like Achilles fighting the Trojans or Hercules crushing Hades. Awe-inspiring. Similar to how a janitor cleans up a school I cleaned up that flight with reckless public behavior. However, APPARENTLY, SOCIETY DISAGREES and upon landing, I was met with the full force of the Fort Lauderdale Police Department and detained. Fortunately, Keely bailed me out and now we have time for journaling, chanting to Mother Earth, and doing yoga. This is quickly shaping up to be the best transition from fake Christmas to real Christmas yet.