Picture me sitting in the back row of a packed faculty workshop. Every time I tilt my head to see the speaker, the guy in the front row leans directly into my line of vision.

On a flight from Houston to Salt Lake City, I felt lucky to have been assigned an aisle seat on an exit row after a harrowing travel schedule.  As I was about to be seated, the young woman on the inside seat said, "Would you be willing to trade seats

Thirteen hours in a car with an old friend, from Houston to Mission, Texas. And back. Our lives have taken us in such different directions since we grew up like two peas in a pod.