“You know why late flights are good? Because we cease to be earthbound and burdened with practicality. Ask the impertinent question. Talk about the idea that nobody has thought about yet…Be Poets.”

-Jeremiah Bartlet on The West Wing

That whole flying at night thing is superbly underrated, as far as I’m concerned. If I have my way, all of my future flights will be under the blanket of moonlight, surrounded by infinite flowing clouds and radiant stars.

I had always thought the above quote was incredibly romantic but never had the chance to understand the meaning firsthand until my recent connecting flight from Denver back to San Antonio. As the plane picked up off the ground, I decided on watching a movie, even though it would cost an unreasonable eight dollars. “Watching a cute movie at night is one of my favorite things anyway and it would be cool to see one on an airplane” I justified to myself as I searched for the needed earpiece in my polka-dot carry-on bag. After an unexpectedly strenuous search through the contents – which included, but was in no way limited to, my lip gloss, gum, books, ticket stubs, digital camera and iPod – my hands finally fingered the slippery headphones, tangled together and buried deep beneath the rest of the airport necessities. Just as I triumphantly plugged them into the armrest, the plane made a slight turn which caused me to absentmindedly glance out of the circular window and into the vast, moonlit sky. At that moment my eyes were met with the fullest, most inconceivably beautiful moon I have ever known. Without realizing I was doing it, I heard myself audibly gasp and let out a very dreamy, very loud sigh. Immediately becoming aware other people might think I was a nut job for making those noises while longingly gazing out of an airplane window, I timidly turned my head to face the others in the cabin. Feeling a wave of relief, I observed that I was not the only one taken aback by the awe-inspiring sight that was the righteous hunk of reflective rock before us. Reassured my unspeakably high social status on the plane filled with strangers indeed remained intact, I turned my attention back to the alluring nighttime vision right outside of my window seat.

The minutes that followed were the kind that a person does not easily forget. You see, there is something about being that close to the starry sky that seduces the senses to a point of no return. Casting the thought of the eight dollar movie purchase out of my mind, I unplugged the earphones from my armrest and returned them to their true home, my iPod.

After a few decision-making seconds of scrolling through the song options, my mind was dancing to the melodies of Let Go by Frou Frou, Delicate by Damien Rice and Death and All His Friends by Coldplay, to name a few. It took only a couple of chords into the first song to begin day-dreaming extraordinary dreams; I was completely lost in the shimmering abyss before me, and the moment was perfect. As the minutes went by and the dreams revealed their entire selves, I started to recognize these fanciful dreams as familiar remnants of my imaginings from the past. This got me wondering…why is it that I ever stopped dreaming these dreams to begin with? They are obviously things I still want, things still deeply planted in my heart, so how did I lose sight of them without even realizing I was doing it? I don’t know if I lost hope or hunger for those dreams therefore they gradually tapered off into the world where all of those lost dreams go, but I do know this dreamy late night flight brought desire to have them back, which was a magical happening all on its own.

As we were soaring near our destination and the end of our flight, the pilot relayed the weather conditions and time in my sweet San Antonio. After he seemingly finished by offering his thanks for choosing their airline, he added:

“Don’t let the reality of being stuck on the ground stop you from dreaming big. Take care everyone.”

My heart jumped as the West Wing quote flashed by my mind. I walked off the plane, feeling the cool air hit my face and sweep up in my hair. I took a deep breath and smiled knowing my enchanted nighttime flight home inspired more desire than I could ever have expected...and I haven’t really stopped smiling since.

Why is it that most of us women are so damned catty? Why are we so often irritated by women who “have everything”? Why is it that when faced by a fellow female with a flawless face, bangin’ body, hot hairstyle, sun-kissed skin, faultless fashion sense, estimable education and a vast vocabulary it’s often cause for any “regular” girl to become poised to attack? And my God if you add fluency in multiple languages and a successful career with a twist of modest integrity, chances are you will have a full-fledged jealous rage brimming right under the surface. (Sometimes not quite under the surface.)

While I can relate to the almost instinct-like negative response, e.g., “wish I would have been born into HER family”, “why didn’t God give me genes like those”, “I bet she’s a stuck-up bleep”, these days I find that I have a very different reaction when first becoming acquainted with such a woman. Instead of “hating”, I admire. I am almost drawn to them in the sense that I want to know their secrets! I want to learn about how they view the world, how they view life. I want to know what is it that helps them to set themselves apart. To put it bluntly, I want to know how I can be like that too. Because who says I cannot be? Moreover, who says you cannot be? Do you not desire to be in great health, have a killer wardrobe and haircut all while perhaps having a high-paying job that you love? Because who ever told you that you cannot, lied.

What's that you say? Stop the presses! You mean no one other than yourself told you those things?

Well quit lying and get a grip, because darling you can have it all.

You may find that it would serve you well to stop “hating” on those women who seem to have all their shit together, and start taking note of just how possible it is for you to achieve every similar goal, and more.

I wish I could just scream this from the rooftops, but for now my blog will have to do: You can do, have, or be anything the girl next to you can do, have, or be. No matter who that girl is, what she is wearing, what man is holding open the door for whatever car she drives. You can have it all. The real question is: Will you even try?