Thought of the Day - 1/26/2012

Don't sweat the petty things...

...and vice versa...

Being young and ignorant should be painful...

So - I make a simple post earlier today on FaceBook:

"I feel so damn old right now. Kayleigh's doing a report on "Wild Stallions", and she just doesn't get the "Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure" references that I keep throwing at her..."

Now, I expected a few laughs.

"Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure" was one of those Mid-80's comedies that made careers (Keanu Reeves) and was genuinely funny. Lot of stupid humor without being just DUMB (like the "Scary Movie" series).

Little did I know that my comment would bring out the "DUH FACTOR" in people.

Here's how it went...


******************************************************


Me: I feel so damn old right now. Kayleigh's doing a report on "Wild Stallions", and she just doesn't get the "Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure" references that I keep throwing at her...
Chris: What does bill and Ted have 2 do with it??
Me: *sigh* That's what I mean, folks...
Chris: What? I don't even understand what U mean???
Me: Exactly...you didn't get the reference, either.
Jim: WOW!
Chris: Well. perhaps U should explain it in English???
Jim: Wait till you have to do a report on So-Crates!
Me: @ Jim: I can't wait...
Jim: Or Sigmund Frood!
Me: @Chris: Go watch the movie
Jim: LOL!
Chris: I've seen bill and ted's movie,I've seen both..but I still don't understand what your saying.
Me: Forget the 2nd one - go watch the 1st one again.
Chris: Oh 4 the love of god man, would U just tell me???
Jim: I am Bill S. Preston, Esquire! And I am Ted Theodore Logan! Together, we are: WYLD STALLYNS!
Me: *air guitar riff*
Jim: I think that should clear things up a bit.
Me: I doubt it...
Jim: Rofl!
Chris: I remember them saying that,but what does that have 2 do with your daughter,and what does that mean 4 her???
Me: ...REALLY...?!?
Jim: OWW! My head hurts!
Chris: First? Why R y'all making fun of me,and Jim??? I was asking James not U.
Jim: I was trying to help you out.
Me: *looking for the bourbon*
Chris: Ok fine I understand that,BUT..what's that got 2 do with James's daughter???
Chris: Oh.is that what it is?? The bourbon???
Me: ...and I say again: REALLY?!?
Jim: The report is on wild stallions. The reason for the WYLD STALLYNS ref.
Me: Re-read my initial posting...
Chris: What is REF?? And James?? Your post tells me nothing??? Why is it do hard 4 U 2 just say it?????!?
Jim: Now I gotta go dig out the Billl And Ted DVD! Damn You Jim!
Me: No - that's a Star Trek reference, Jim...
Jim: LOL!
Jim: Ref = Reference
Chris: Look??? Why U can't just tell me??
Me: ‎*beating head against table*
Jim: ROFL.... Ooops... Think I Peed a little!
Chris: Is that what U have been trying 2 tell me James??? i hope not.
Me: ...help...
Chris: help? Just tell me what U mean?
Jim: James' daughter is doing a report on wild stallions, and WYLD STALLYNS was the name of the band that Bill And Ted were trying to form in the movie, though neither of them could play to save their lives.
Chris: I knew they were trying 2 form that band with that name..is that what it is??? GEE it only took 50 texts to tell me.
Me: *...god, it hurts...*


**************************************

Really - was it THAT hard, if one has seen the movie AND is explained the reference MULTIPLE TIMES, to just "get it"?

I swear - that just made my head hurt... I mean, to quote my best friend Kathryn:

"REALLY?!? I mean REALLY?!?"

(Say it to yourself with a NC dialect...the vocal inflection makes it all the more meaningful)

...and Chris (he's actually a good friend and a genuinely damn nice guy) is PUSHING 30.

I blame the education system.


*sigh*


I am going to bed and pray for humanity...

Explaining bodily functions to a 4 year old...

Erin comes into the office and asks me, "Dad...what's diarrhea?"

Like I've said before: this kid is way better than coffee...

Where the HELL did she come up with THAT question?!?



"Well - it's when...

...uh...

...your bowels...

...

...

...

...Erin, it's like peeing from your butt."



The horrified look of disgust on her angelic little face and the shriek of:

"EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

was utterly worth it.



OK - it REALLY was worth the future therapy bill...

...there went my good mood...

Started off with work.

I got to work nice & early this morning, just as the boss had asked.

I had already scanned & loaded half of my truck, when he comes over and tells me he's made some changes and that my route was being changed - forcing me to rescan the entire truck...

...he did this twice more in the next 25 minutes.

THEN, he started bitching at me about my speed - that I wasn't going fast enough...

(He already has me violating DOT regulations on "Hours of Service" - now he wants me to speed thru residential neighborhoods)

...but when I counter that I am still learning the new route area, he tells me that it's OK that I am taking my time...

(HUH?!? Make up your mind, you xaxtdamned idiot...)

OK - the route goes well - low load and traffic was generally agreeable...




...then my friend Paula texts me and tells me that she has cervical cancer.



***************************************


I've known Paula since 1994, when I bought my 1st house. Paula and her then husband lived right behind me, and we used to hang at the fence & bullshit, knock back a couple beers, or hop over the fence and just hang out.

(I was tempted to put just a gate there to save on the acrobatics)

When Paula & Anthony split, I was there & listened...

...when I went thru my 1st divorce, Paula was there and listened to me.

I'll never forget when my 1st wife put me thru a bad time - Paula needed a couch removed and couldn't get it out the door, and offered to let me use a sledgehammer to take it apart and to "work out the stress"...

...and then proceeded to watch me batter it into splinters.

(We had to shovel the remains into a garbage can)

Yeah - Paula's really good people.

Later, when my 2nd wife started screwing around on me, Paula was the first person to let me know...and again, listened...

Paula's a damn good friend.

So - her text hit me like a sledgehammer.

She's pretty upbeat about it...

(I LOVE her positive attitude)

...but is trying to figure out how to tell her kids.

(OUCH)

OK, Jim - she's upbeat...I'm going to just roll with that and still make a good day out of it...




...then Casey calls and lets me know that she's going to start moving into her new place...

...tonight.




***************************************


Casey is my oldest child. She's going to be 20 in March, but I lost a lot of time with her after my divorce - her mother having convinced her and her brother that I never wanted them and that I was (basically) evil incarnate.

We reconnected 15 months ago and she's been living with me since then. I've enjoyed the time we had, and we made up for a lot that we lost... but she's found a place with her boyfriend and they're moving in together.

They'll be about 40 minutes away...

(*pout*)

...up in the mountains...

(moonshine country)

...in a singlewide trailer.

(SHEEIT!!! I HEAR BANJOES!!!)



I have to trust that I did a good job as a father, and that she'll be OK...

...but it still hurts to watch your baby spread her wings and fly...



Yeah - I had a bad day.

Yeah - I'm sad.



Paula - I will say a prayer, and I will do my best to keep you upbeat...

...and good luck, Casey - know that your daddy loves you, and like I've always told you: wherever I am - you'll always have a place to come home to.

...in a rare good mood...

Yes, I admit it - I am in a good mood today.

• Got a solid night's sleep (although still in the lacking sleep department),
• Took the day off from working FedEx,
• Had a job interview (in a field I am fully versed in) that I think I aced,
• and got a phone call from my best friend (who I haven't heard from in ages, but is doing OK).
  

...so yes - in a good mood.

TOMORROW? Back to FedUp and stress...

*sigh*

...but I can enjoy today.

The American Education Experience

...so - I got this week's newsletter from Kayleigh's teacher today - she's covering from World War 1 thru the great depression in social studies this week.

That encompasses the era from 1914 to the end of 1941 - all to be taught in the space of 4 days (day 5 being a quiz), in 38 minute blocks.

Doing the math, that comes out to a whopping 2 hrs and 32 minutes of instruction time - to cover 27 years of some of the World's most conflicted and history-rich times...

Yeah - no wonder the educational system in this country is completely fucked...

Thought of the day...

...to be jobless and support Barack Obama is like being Jewish and support Iran's nuclear weapons program...

Teaching the kids about death - losing pets.

Yesterday morning, Erin woke up and - as part of her morning ritual - walked over to the cage on her dresser to say "Good morning!" to Chin-Chin - her pet chinchilla...

Chin-Chin however, had passed away during the night.

Now, this is not Erin's first experience with losing a pet - nor any of the girls.

Kayleigh & Bree both distinctly remember the passing of my beloved cat, Ozzy (almost 4 years ago now) - and the passing of our cat Zombie 2 years ago. Ozzy's passing was especially traumatic to them, as he was a very personable cat and "Daddy's Buddy", but it helped them understand loss and the grieving process.

Erin, on the other hand, has only lost goldfish (although she does have the "burial at the porcelain sea" ritual down pat).

Chin-Chin is bundled up in a shoebox and sequestered outside (sub-freezing temperatures helping the situation), with her funeral planned today.

Now - I hate to see my girls cry (Bubba being too young to understand), but I was passed this poem many years ago - it helped after the grieving process eased....

...and yes - looking for a new chinchilla. I think I'll name it "Q-Tip"...

The Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together...

...I need to be home more often...

It seems that Bubba is KINDA doing well with his potty training...

...he pees...

...but only in the litter box.

(and people wonder why I don't drink heavily...)

New York Style Italian comfort food... in the NE GA mountains...

As another crappy work week comes to a close, I decided I needed a proper meal to soothe my irritated soul.

In other words: "Comfort Food".

See - my definition of "comfort food" is a bit difficult to describe. I have lived all over the Eastern US, was married to a Scot, have been neighbors with Indo-Paks, Koreans, South Americans, and Eastern Europeans, have traveled extensively across the US, Canada, and Mexico, and have sampled various cuisines along the way - so I have a wide and expansive view of what "comfort food" is.

But - if I go all the way back to my childhood - that boy who was born in New York City and raised in New Jersey, good Italian food is truly comfort food.

Now, about a month ago, I was in no mood to cook (being late and after working hard during Christmas rush) - so I decided to get pizza on my way home for me & the tribe.

Holy crap - the local mass-market pizza joint (Papa John's) was CLOSED! What am I supposed to do?

So - driving along, looking for the "Golden Arches" in the distance, I was lucky enough to spot a local pizzaria across the road in a non-descript strip-mall...and decided to stop in.

Best "spur-of-the-moment" decision I have ever made - and since then, I have forever sworn off "mass-marketed" pizza.

De'Italia pizza (www.DeItaliaBuford.com) is a small pizza joint run by this short Italian guy from Brooklyn, New York... and damn, does he have pride in his work.

EVERY pizza is made to order - so don't expect to just drop in for a quick slice. It'll take you a few minutes.

The pizzas are HUGE. His medium is bigger than your standard "large"... and his large is 18" (500mm) across.

His meatballs - his calamari -all homemade, all handmade.

Garlic knots? Dripping in butter, fresh garlic, and parmesan.

Strombolis? God...so good.

Cannoli? Tiramisu? Yup... and to die for.

Enough to bring you in? Well - add to it, the cast of characters that hang out here:

• the Hawaiian surfer-type that moved to be near his kids.
• the NY/NJ expats looking for a "taste of home"
• and of course - the mobster's daughter and her teamster boss husband.

Everyone's got a thick New York/New Jersey accent, and all the conversations come at you with the rapid-fire staccato of a machine gun - with enough hand gesturing to negate the need of ceiling fans.

Yup - it's just like when I grew up... and truly both a comforting site, and a comforting bite.

SO - if you ever find yourself near Buford GA, do two things:

1. Come see me! I'm only 10 minutes away!
2. Get off I-985 at exit 4 and stop in for the best pizza you'll find outside New York City (and trust me - this place blows most of those off the charts too!).
   

Now let me go - I have a pepperoni/sausage/meatball pizza with peppers, mushrooms, black olives, and gobs of fresh garlic waiting for me...

*happy jim*

Public Schools aren't supposed to be an experiment in Social Collectivism...

I remember going out shopping for school supplies, the school having provided a list of all the things a child is supposed to need & use in my grubby little hands.

So, I'm going down these extensive lists, and asked redundantly: "What about the kids that can't afford all this crap?"

Both Kay AND Bree chimed up simultaneously with, "That's why we have so much - we put it all together and share..."

...

...

...oh HELL no!

I'm struggling as it is in this economy - I'm not subsidizing someone else's kids too! Since when did my kids HAVE to give up their property to other students because the teacher strong-arms them to?

In most trains of thought, that's called THEFT or RACKETEERING.

When did public school become a social collective? Didn't communist/socialist theory get proven a sham by the fall of the Berlin Wall & the implosion of the Soviet Union? Last I knew, this country was a democratic republic! Should I go up to the school teacher and say, "I don't have enough gas to get home, so I'm going to share some of yours!"

(Apologies to my teacher friends - I KNOW you're already underpaid AND put out your own $$ for supplies - but this pisses me off)

Well - one of the supplies on the list was a pencil box for each...

...did you know Target sells LOCKING pencil boxes? :-)

Social collectivism, my fat white ass...

Ring if I'm not here...

...just made a delivery at an office - sign on the unoccupied desk said: "If nobody's at the desk, hit the gong."

Yes - a gong.

A full-sized gong was next to the desk, with a striking hammer sitting there...

...and it's just sitting there, teasing me.

(You KNOW I can't resist...)

BHWONNNNGGGGG!!!!

(HOLY CRAP!!! I could've woken the dead with that!)

The receptionist comes out from around the corner with a calm, "Can I help you?"

(Yeah - I think distributing aspirin for the staff on the 4th floor sounds good...)

God - I want one. The possibilities for mayhem are ENDLESS...

Philosophy according to Jim

So - the boss comes up to me at 6:15 this morning and says to me, "You need to come in earlier..."

You have got to be fucking kidding me, right?

I get to work every day before 6am. They still have the packages rolling down the conveyor belts and my route will probably be resequenced at least 3 times before 6:45, so why bother, eh?

Therefore, I politely inform the boss of this, and ask him what his reasoning and logic is behind his request.

"It's good work ethic...

(Wait - is this schmuck trying to lecture me about work ethic?!?)

...it's the early bird that gets the worm!"

"Maybe so," I retort, "but it's the 2nd mouse that gets the cheese."

Yeah... the boss got a look on his face as if I had just informed him that I had just sodomized his cat... and HE WALKED AWAY!!!!

Even better - he didn't call to harass me once all day!

Gee - maybe I need to be philosophical more often...

...Blah day, part II...

Like I said before - took the day off to rest (missing out on a day's crappy pay) - but hey! I had a contract computer gig tonight, paying $200 for 5 hours worth of work!

Uh...no.

As I'm about to head out the door, loaded up with cold medicine, imodium, and tea - I get a phone call:

"Job's cancelled. You're not needed."

Fuck.

OK - how can I salvage the rest of the day?

(night now?)

I start cooking.

Got me a big ol' mess of gumbo simmering now, and to hell with the rest of the night.

...off today, and exercising futility...

Something I ate has been making it's way - PAINFULLY - thru my gut, so I called off from work today...

(Stuck in a truck all day? No bathroom? Yeah...not a pretty image)

...and was approached by Erin to play with her.

I'm in no mood to play Barbies, or "dress up", but she surprises me with:

"UNO!"

UNO?!? Uno is an easy game...match colors or numbers on your cards and have none left...

...but try teaching RULES to a 4½ year old! I ended up learning a few new things about my littlest girl in the process:

1. She's a cutthroat card player.
2. Completely stone-faced - she sits there, smiles, and STARES YOU DOWN the whole game.
3. She makes a lot of noise slamming cards down.
4. When I "took 5" to use the latrine, she not only slipped a couple of her cards into the discard pile, but she added a few to my hand!

Saddest part of all - when she finally started playing by the rules - SHE BEAT ME THREE HANDS IN A ROW!

Can't wait to teach her poker...

...So, I'm a "Hater"...?

So - a while ago, I made a comment on my FaceBook page describing my dislike for rap...

("music is like a box of chocolates - you throw away the rappers...")

...and I almost immediately get a text from my ex-sister-in-law, calling me a "hater".

Ummmm.... Duh? Is everyone so sensitive in this world now that being called a "hater" is a bad thing? Am I supposed to fall to my knees in utter disdain and repentance because I’ve been called a “hater”?

PUHLEEEZZZEEEEE…

Look - everyone has some form of hate in them.

Among the things I hate:

• Rap,
• Dogs,
• Basketball,
• the IRS,
• Socialist Government policies,
• runny eggs,
• the 1991-1993 Chevy Caprice,
• the Lifetime Network,
• Oprah Winfrey,
• the New York Rangers,
• "Reality Television",
• Oily fish (ie: Mackerel),
• Religious Extremists,
• Barney the Dinosaur,
• Dora the Explorer,
  
• Forced Multiculturalism,
• and the New York Yankees.

So - because I:

• have conscious thought,
• have formulated my own opinions,
• and decided after considering all options, that I hate certain items

...that labels me with a flaming "H" and makes me a "hater"?

So - call me a "hater".

I'm cool with that.

Living Down South and the Love of the Pig

I love pork products.

You can't live down south without being introduced to the joys of the pig.

I'm not talking your standard 3 strips of fried bacon you get with your fried egg at any Jersey Diner, or the Armour canned ham I used to eat as a kid during Christmas - but REAL pork products.

I was first introduced to them back when I was living in Raleigh, NC back in 1988 - went to the North Carolina State Farmer's Market and discovered their on-site restaurant...

• Country ham,
• Fresh sausage,
• Pork steaks,
• "Carolina" BBQ,
• Hash brown casserole with bits of sausage,
• and Sausage Gravy over Biscuits

It was an eye-opening experience...as well as a thrill to my palate.

I got to my next chapter of the joys of porcine indulgence when I retired from Law Enforcement - I moved to Florida.

Latin cuisine is HEAVY in the use of the pig... and my friends Carlos and Alfredo each introduced me to:

• Roast pork with garlic and citrus - the bits of attached fat and skin crispy and flavorful,
• "Cuban" sandwiches,
• and Paella, with chunks of ham.

Later, I learned more about the joys of not only cooking WITH pork, and just where to get it.

It was my dearest friend Kathryn (the biggest NC State fan I know - Go State!) who not only introduced me to the sinful pleasures of:

• Making pork loin in the slow cooker,
• Green beans with diced ham,
• Pulled pork sandwiches (with fried okra and slaw on the side),
• Keeping a container of "bacon drippins" in the fridge,
• and "Greens" with ham (which makes them palatable to my taste... but sorry, Robert - still not a huge fan of "greens")...

...but

• she introduced me to the "Nahunta Pork Center" (Google it - it's SO WORTH THE "ROAD TRIP").

So now - as I am older, one would think it would be hard on my system...but my TOTAL cholesterol is a whopping 92.

(My doctor swore I was a vegan - HAH!)

SO - I have shared the love of the pig with my kids:

• The juicy flavor of "heirloom pork" - not as lean as "factory pigs", but fattier and richer tasting,
• Holidays are always marked with a baked ham (except for Thanksgiving & St Patrick's Day),
• Sunday mornings are always filled with the smells of bacon in the pan and eggs fried in the drippins (and maybe a pot of rich, peppery sausage gravy simmering to reheat for breakfasts during the week).
• Pork loin - seasoned with rosemary and simmering nicely in the slow cooker,
• Breaded pork chops,
• Grits with bits of country ham and drizzled with red-eye gravy (tho Casey's still no fan of gritspies),
• and of course - green beans with diced ham.

Ahhh... pork...

...who's hungry...?

...Today's words of wisdumb from my 4½ y/o...

"Daddy! Bubba needs some cootchie!"

Those words were like ice water, snapping me out of malaise...

"Um....what?"

"My brudder! He needs some cootchie!"

Junior, AKA: "Bubba" - is 2½.

"I think Bubba's OK without getting some cootchie for a few years."

"...okay...

...can we get a new baby?"


I swear - this kid is better than coffee.


"...a WHAT?!?"

"A new baby! We can go to WalMart and the doctor, and get TWO new babies!"

"And WHAT would we name these babies?"

"...uhhh... Beavis and Butthead?"


Yeah... I'm ok - but tea burns when it comes out one's nose...

...sometimes, it's REALLY fun to look like a cop...

I've been working lately as a contractor for FedEx Ground.

(It SUCKS - but right now, it's money...)

WELL - this last Saturday I was making a delivery to an apartment in a rather "ethnic" area of town:

*Knock Knock*

While waiting, I hear the window shades behind me part...

...and the horrified voice of a young boy starts screaming out, "PAPI!!! PAPI!!! POLICIA!!! POLICIA!!!"

I hear a table crash over...

...the pounding of feet...



I knock again...and shout, "FED EX!"


*Dead silence*


The door cracks open, and a man peers out thru the slit.

"Hi! I have a package, and I need a signature."

He turns and shouts in the apartment, "YO, MANUEL! STOP FLUSHING IT! IT'S JUST FED EX!"

...Excuse me - your meth lab is burning...

...so I'm at the doctors - the house across the street has police cars, fire engines, ambulances, and a GBI (Georgia Bureau of Investigation) crime scene unit truck outside...

There's a BIG hole burned in the roof - yard surrounded by yellow crime scene tape.

OH - and the house is down the block from the Police Station.

Yup - welcome to life in the GA Mountains...

Rules of Etiquette for Air Travel

OK - I used to fly for my old job A LOT. After logging a few miles in our nation's skies, I have learned a thing or 3 about air travel.

Allow me to share a few tidbits to those that are not so versed in the subtleties of air travel...

Please get to the airport 2 hours before your flight. I am stuck waiting in line with the TSA along with you, and yes, it sucks. But no - I really don't care if you have got 14 minutes til your plane leaves - you can't push ahead of the entire line because you failed to plan on waiting in a security checkpoint. It's pretty common sense that you're going to be screened, and your being irate only makes you look more like a threat.

Plan out your meal the night before your flight. Remember your 7th grade science? When you put a full balloon in a glass case and lower the air pressure, the gas inside that balloon will expand until it just bursts. Remember that? WELL - apply that to your diet. Do NOT go on a binge of chili and beer the night before and go on the plane thinking that it's not going to be noticed. As soon as that pressure drops, your going to feel your own ass rupture violently, and airplanes are small, confined spaces.

Hygiene, Pt 1. For the love of god, take a shower before you go to the airport. Remember what I said before: airplanes are small, confined areas, and the odor of funk, unwashed armpits, and curry do not mingle well, let alone share nicely. Wash...use deodorant...maybe a bit of cologne...which leads to:

Hygiene, Pt 2. A little cologne/perfume can make a person smell wonderful. That doesn't mean that you have to marinate in it. I don't want to be sitting in the last row of coach, next to the damn toilet, and know that you're wearing Obsession in the 1st row of business class.

Oversized Baggage. Look - not everything is going to be "carry-on", so cough up the $15, you cheap bastard. I am not going to sacrifice my limited legroom because you want to hand-carry your prize putter on the plane.

Oversized Passengers. Now, I'm a big guy. I'll be the first to admit that I will never be a jeans model. I am cool with that - at least I can fit in an airline seat with the armrests down. I don't care if you consider yourself "husky", "pleasanly plump", or a "BBW" - I am not going to sit on one ass cheek, leaning out in the aisle because you've squeezed me out of my seat like a zit. Pay for a 2nd seat, fly business class, or take f'in Greyhound.

Class Appreciation. OK - I am going to come off like an elitist here for a second, but bear with me. I like flying "Business Class" if I can. With certain airlines, it costs the same to pay for 2 checked bags as it does to: fly business class, check 2 bags for free, get a bigger seat, first on-first off, free drinks, hear less engine noise, and use of the forward lavatory ("reserving the ones in the rear of the aircraft for our coach passengers"). A "Win-Win", don't you think?
So WHY do those in coach think the forward lavatory is anything special? Look - it's CLEANER. That's the one that the crew and the 12 people in business class use. THAT'S IT. But to me, that's important!
The flight I had the other day, this woman kept walking up from mid-plane, pushing back the business class curtain, and used the forward lavatory 5 times in a 2 hour flight. She had open sores on her legs and arms. She spattered feces on the toilet. They had to close it off. The Captain had to use the damn rear lavatory - always a fun thing - to have your flight crew at the wrong end of the plane. This beastly woman went for round SIX, but was told that we were landing soon (a white lie on the crew's part) and she'd just have to wait til we got to the airport.
Look -I've waited for a rear lav when I fly coach... be nice and let those that paid for the convenience enjoy it. You want it...cough up the extra bucks.

Packing Properly. Why...oh Lord, WHY - would one carry a loose bowling ball on an airplane AND THEN try to stow it in the overheads? We flew thru the beginnings of a Tropical Storm... and that 12 pound urethane cannonball was slamming around in the back - I was waiting for it to explode out and obliterate some poor passenger's skull. I may know First Aid - but even I can't put Humpty Dumpty's crushed eggshell back together again.

Gender/Racial Neutrality. I don't care what (fill in ethnic origin) or (fill in gender) you are. I am ticketed for this seat, I chose this seat (I personally prefer the aisle), and I kinda like this seat. But know that your race/gender does not entitle you any special treatment or for me to give up my seat. You're wearing a burqa and staring at me with hate in your eyes because I won't move to the middle seat? You dare "shoosh" your hands at me? Look, sister - you're going to get attitude right back at you. You're the same as you or me, and we're both in this plane. Deal with it. You don't like it? Go sit on the wing.

Now let's all sit back and enjoy our flight...

Giving in to Peer Pressure...

...a bunch of my friends on FaceBook have pestered me into blogging my exploits...

...guess I have to keep up with the blog I started 2 years ago and ignored, eh?

Welcome to my World - grab a drink, strap in, and hang on - it's going to be an interesting ride.