The Denim Shirt Phenomenon

OK... notes on Dallas, Texas...
1. DO NOT DRIVE HERE. EVER. No kidding- whoever planned the interstate system clearly had a severe drug problem. The general rule of thumb seems to be if that if you can SEE the building you're going to, it must take at least 25 minutes, four flyovers, and five street name changes to get there. And the 25 minutes travel time is at 90 mph.
2. The denim shirt is alive and well in Texas! On the plane, there were no less than four women in denim shirts embroidered with various forms of wildlife. (Horses, cats, etc. etc.) Men, too, are apparently no match for the siren song of the denim shirt, as I have seen four passed off as "dress shirts" in this office building.
3. Despite being challenged in the fashion and urban planning departments, Texans are lovely, hospitable people. They love to talk about the weather in Texas. It is a subject of endless discussion. But hey, they're nice, so I can talk climate.

More later... must go investigate the margaritas which are the subject of all other conversation in this state.

SportsCenter, here I come! (And Thanksgiving.)

Watching NFL highlights…

Me: That was horsecollaring! That was that horsecollaring thing!

Husband: It was! Good eye, Honey!

Me: It’s hot when I call football penalties, isn’t it?

Husband: Yes. Yes, it is.

So I take off for Texas in the morning. It will be lovely and warm while I’m there. And then next week I’ll go to Maryland just in time for highs in the upper 30s. Nice.

Had a marvelous Thanksgiving at Elder Sister’s house. It was a small crowd for our family- just seven at us at the table. But it was laid back and fun. The food was fantastic. I think I have lured my brother-in-law into helping with our laminate floor installation… with the promise of his very own pan of cornbread stuffing. Yeah. I’m that good. The only down side was desperately missing my sweet Baby Sister. (Baby Sister, for the record, has been unceremoniously dumped by an heinous little girl who has incurred the sisterly wrath. We wish her pubic lice for Christmas.) But back to Thanksgiving! It was great and a good time was had by all.

Speaking of a good time… my poor Mother will tell you that she is made fun of mercilessly by her children. It’s true. And I’d feel bad about it, except that a) it’s all good natured and b) she really does bring it on herself sometimes. Case in point: the recliner incident. My Mom is short and round. It’s an adorable, grandmotherly look, but it doesn’t make for the most agile of bodies. She went to war with my sister’s recliner this weekend while trying to get out of the @#$@#%# chair (as she called it). It was sort of like watching an overturned beetle trying to right itself. This went on for several minutes and of course, rather than try to HELP her, I sat on the couch and giggled. By the time she got out of the chair, she was furious and I was hysterical. To add insult to injury, the leg rest popped back out and clocked her in the butt as she was walking away. I mean… does it GET any better than that? She’s like a cartoon, but totally unintentionally! Ma, I love ya… and remember that I’m laughing WITH you. OK, so you’re not laughing… but aren’t you just happy that you can bring such joy to your sweet baby girl??? No?

I am off to bed. I need my rest- they tell me Texas is exhausting what with everything being bigger there, blah, blah, blah…

Business Class Gives Me The Business Every Time

I won’t horrify my family with the preceding conversation to this statement, but it’s hilarious on its own:

Me (to Husband): Thank you so much for ruining this tender moment with the use of the word ‘splooged’.*

*(MOM- DO NOT ask my sisters what “splooged” means. You don’t want to know. Trust me. Do you remember the “what’s double penetration?” and “what’s a fluffer?” conversations? I do. So does my therapist.)

In other more family-friendly news, WORK SUCKS IT FOR CRACK ON A STREET CORNER! Oh shit… sorry, not so family friendly. Um… what I meant was…. WORK HAS BEEN QUITE CHALLENGING AND I’M QUITE FRAZZLED!

Riiiighhhht…. ‘cause that felt just as good. NOT. I return to my original assessment.

Yeah, I’m about to embark on a four state tour in which I will attempt to teach professional writing to a group of people that’s about 50% prima donnas who believe themselves capable of writing polished Supreme Court opinions in one draft. (The other 50% are great!) Truth be told, most of the prima donnas wouldn’t have earned better than a B- in my freshman comp class, but they’re very touchy sorts. I am going to get eaten for lunch. And that’s fine. I’ll just drink awfully heavily on the plane back home.

Traveling for business is always interesting for me. It’s a guarantee that a few things will happen:
1. I will get selected for more stringent security screening. There is something about a 5’2” blonde woman in professional attire that screams Al-Qaeda bomber. I should note that on my last trip, I got pulled for the extra special security screening. This was shortly after they banned all gels, liquids, etc. on aircraft. Guess that big ol’ bag of makeup just didn’t count ‘cause that sucker went right onto the plane with me. But hey, I got to go through the residue-detecting machine and they made damn sure that was powder on my face and not the activating agent for biological weapon I had cleverly concealed as my lip gloss.

2. A random traveling business guy about 20-25 years older than me will attempt to strike up a “friendly” conversation. On the plane, waiting at the gate, sitting in the airport bar. I have nothing against friendly conversation, per se, but I have learned that these men are usually looking for more than just a pleasant chat with another human enduring the woes of business travel. It’s best to pretend you’re deaf or a lesbian or that you do not speak a word of English. (Deaf is most effective. And makes them look like an ass when they start shouting. At a supposedly deaf person. Nice.)

3. My flight will board on time and give all appearances of being on schedule. I will stow my approved carry-on in the overhead without incident and settle in with my brainless reading material. Smiling flight attendants will welcome me on board Lying Bastards Flight 666 to NO WHERE BUT THE DAMN TAXIWAY. They will demonstrate the seat-belt and dutifully point their index/middle finger combo at the exits. And then we will sit. We will taxi out a very short distance and SIT in the hellish limbo that is a plane not yet in flight. Without air conditioning or beverage service, we will cling with naive hope to the radio-announcer-smooth voice of Captain Assface assuring us that we should be in the air “very shortly.” (This is about the time that the toddler three rows in front of me will weary of being contained and begin a full scale meltdown.)

The good news about this trip is that I can now legally carry a quart-sized bag with 3 oz. containers of liquid or gel in it. Even better news is that I am completely confident the ace- minded security screeners will not be able to discern clarifying shampoo from vodka.

And now, a musical interlude!

(With apologies to Louis Armstrong)

What a Wonderful World
new lyrics by ME

I see Dems in control
GOP strife
Haggert is gay
Rumsfeld took flight
And I think to myself… what a wonderful world!

I see the Senate in Blue
House that way too
Speaker Pelosi
We love you
And I think to myself… what a wonderful world!

I hear fundies cryin’, I watched them go,
To the polls so sure, but it didn’t show.

I see stem cell studies
Troops comin’ home
Marriage for all
W off his throne
And I think to myself… what a wonderful world!

Election Day Sarcasm

My fabulous South Florida aunt sent this to me today and I got a good giggle from it. Nothing like an entire party philosophy built on hypocrisy, hatred, and a complete lack of logic! Get out and vote- FIGHT THE RIGHT!!!!
Liberal Love,
L.

To be a Republican, you need to believe:
1. Jesus loves you, and shares your hatred of homosexuals and Hillary Clinton.
2. Saddam was a good guy when Reagan armed him, a bad guy when Bush's daddy made war on him, a good guy when Cheney did business with him, and a bad guy when Bush needed a "we can't find Bin Laden" diversion.
3. Trade with Cuba is wrong because the country is Communist, but trade with China and Vietnam is vital to a spirit of international harmony.
4. The United States should get out of the United Nations, and our highest national priority is enforcing U.N. resolutions against Iraq.
5. A woman can't be trusted with decisions about her own body, but multi-national drug corporations can make decisions affecting allmankind without regulation.
6. The best way to improve military morale is to praise the troops inspeeches, while slashing veterans' benefit and combat pay.
7. If prophylactics are kept out of schools, adolescents won't have sex.
8. A good way to fight terrorism is to belittle our long-time allies, then demand their cooperation and money.
9. Providing health care to all Iraqis is sound policy, but providing health care to all Americans is socialism. HMO's and insurance companies have the best interests of the public at heart.
10. Global warming and tobacco's link to cancer are junk science, but creationism should be taught in schools.
11. A president lying about an extramarital affair is a impeachable offense, but a president lying to enlist support for a war in which thousands die is solid defense policy.
12. Government should limit itself to the powers named in the Constitution, which include banning gay marriages and censoring the Internet.
13. The public has a right to know about Hillary's cattle trades, but George Bush's driving record is none of our business.
14. Being a drug addict is a moral failing and a crime, unless you're a conservative radio host. Then it's an illness and you need our prayers for your recovery.
15. Supporting "Executive Privilege" for every Republican ever born, who will be born or who might be born (in perpetuity.)
16. What Bill Clinton did in the 1960's is of vital national interest, but what Bush did in the '80's is irrelevant.
17. We should support hunters who shoot their friends and blame them for wearing orange vests similar to those worn by the quail.