I think I have allergies. Ever since I came home from my mini-vaca I’ve been sneezing and snotty. While in Utah – not so much. In fact, it was on the drive home from the Burbank airport that it started up. Every mile we drove closer to home, the snottier and sneezier I got. I’ve been thinking for months that I just keep getting sick every other week. Dude. What if it’s just allergies? What if it’s not my body but instead the flora and the fauna?
The flight home was awesome, by the way. In the security line directly in front of me there was a woman that wanted to discuss with anyone that would listen, and mostly those that didn’t want to, how she was still loaded from her party last night. Visibly weaving and slurring, and this is at 2pm in the afternoon, she wanted to touch your arm and talk into your face. She made the metal detector go off. Repeatedly. And then she would remove one item of jewelry and then try again. This went on for, oh, twenty tries, before the guy asked her to step to the side so he could do it manually. She started crying and shaking and starting to panic. I’ve never seen the security people have to remove someone before. They were so On It. Finally, all that 9/11 training going to good use. It was odd and slightly disturbing. But good in that 3rd grade recess monitor kind of way when the mean kid gets taken to the office. It’s drama. But you’re glad it happened.
And Southwest? Your plan of not assigning seats and making people sit in line at the gate for 2 hours before a flight on the floor, claiming your 4 foot square plot of carpet and setting up the Dutch oven and putting on the coffee, since if you want to sit in the waiting room in an actual seat, like, with back support, then hey, you suck and have to sit in the very back in the middle seat and hate your life while the person on your left sleeps on your shoulder and the person on your right has to get up and climb over you to use the lavatory 4 times? Sucks. I know, I know – your flight price when I bought the non-refundable ticket 2 months ago of $120 dollars round trip can’t be beat. But next time? I’m going to drive for 12 hours since that is less painful and has more legroom and less drunken people in the security line. News flash – you aren’t a rock concert ticket line. You are an airplane flight. Get over yourself.
Since money is super tight, I’m glad I bought the ticket so long ago (and it was non-refundable) or I wouldn’t have been able to go. And since I’m not really much of a shopper, and we spent most of the time at the house, the entire trip was pretty cost-effective, as trip-taking goes. However, I did buy a pair of shoes. On Sale. And I love them.
The best part of being home? Conversations with Joe.
“They put a tampon under this roast.”
“A what?”
“A tampon.”
“A tampon?”
“Well, I don’t know what else you would call it.
I blink. More blinking.
“Are you sure? That might be a health code issue. I don’t think we want to eat that roast.”
“I’m not unfamiliar with female anatomy. I know what it is.”
“Uh, you aren’t talking about female anatomy. You’re talking about something that goes into it.”
“Except I just call it ‘gear’.”
I had to go in the kitchen to see.
“I think that is probably best since what you are looking at looks like a sanitary napkin, not a tampon. But it isn’t one.”
“Well, I’ve never made love to ‘gear’ so I know less about it.”
“Either way, that’s gross that you said that.”
“Leah. A roast bleeds. You -”
“Enough!”
