Well, That Was Unexpected

Real life is stranger than fiction...depending on which authors you read, of course.

Monday, April 19, 2010

To know me is to fly with me

I'm on week 2 of 6 straight on the road and there is a baby screaming behind me. I am trying to remember, with that sort of practical, survival-of-the-species mentality that I think women can tap into more easily than men, that we do in fact need to transport our children across the country with us and that it really isn’t okay to sedate them and put them in dog carriers with the luggage.

The woman next to me is confidently fatter than I am, and by that I mean that she is splayed all about as if it is perfectly fine to be all up in surrounding passengers’ business. I am both impressed and impaired. I usually try to sort of diminish myself ashamedly and nearly every week when I travel, I think, “I will exercise. I will eat very little this week so that I can melt into my apportioned seat size posthaste.” I feel sort of bad because she is definitely getting the short stick in our mountain of softness. Her velour track suit is like a warm blanket, where I have started wearing only semi-comfortable, stiff, professional clothing on flights ever since my luggage was lost and had to buy clothes at a Super Wal-mart. So now I always travel wearing something in which I could potentially present.

So I enjoy turbulence. I was discussing with a seatmate that despite the statistical safety of flight, I figure if we’re staying up we’re staying up and if we’re going down we’re going down and turbulence is fun, like a rollercoaster. So why not enjoy it.










Connected through Houston to get to Brownsville/South Padre Island. Had my favorite brie, chicken apple crepe and made a long stop in the beauty lounge. Those ladies will rue the day they left the Lancôme area alone like it was my own private anti-aging boudoir. Of course my face is now like a shiny beacon of expensive products. It’s really not attractive. But on flight days I could sort of care less. I also experimented with an unfortunate bouquet of perfumes and I think I smell like rotten alcohol. By the way, what is this whole DNA-related beauty trend about?