Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Post Holiday Breakdown: Migration of the Crazies

Went home over Thanksgiving weekend, and, as I was flying, got to have the requisite ‘freaky airline people’ experiences. The problem was exacerbated as the fact that NoSchool’s airport is the crown jewel in the Annoying Airports of the World tiara, and was full of what could only be termed ‘a crush of humanity.’ The volume and concentration of stupid nearly knocked my socks off.

Resolved: I don’t like people much.

Had I been quicker with my hands, I might have snapped a photo of:

The man with the Extremely Pissed Off Cat, running amok in security. E-POC was resistant to the idea of ‘cat carriers,’ ‘baggage handlers,’ and ‘TSA Officers.’ Luckily, E-POC’s fury allowed me to restrain my own, and instead giggle madly at the bedlam. Somebody needs a Darvocet!

The Lady in Pink: Clearly sneaking up upon menopause with thundering footsteps. Despite this fact, clad in a hot-pink sweatsuit (unzipped), white crop-top, and white platform Keds. In November, which made the problem all the more vexing (Hello, Labor Day? Hello, really unbelievably cold?).

Naturally, my flight was delayed because of weather/karma/fury of the gods, so I got to sit in the airport and restrain myself from temper tantrums for a while. Drank an overpriced beer, ate some wings (new token travel food, yum), sat around and people-watched for a while, and then finally hopped a plane home to turkey.

In the airport, met a flight attendant who told me that when she was in law school, her favorite subject was Torts, too. It’s good to know there’s a contingency plan. Either way, I’m consorting with lunatics.

In reaction to impending identity crisis, ate an entire block of bleu cheese last night. It was a good choice.

New identity may be a very, very, fat one.


All rights reserved to my snotty and generally self-deprecating writing. And if your comments bother me, I'll delete them. That's right, pumpkin.
...How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one's name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
-- Emily Dickinson