make my mutants grooooowww!!!!

yesterday i braved the journey from sunny los angeles to gray, disgusting, spokane washington. looovely. yesterday i did learn several things about myself however. now, allow me to enlighten you.

1. I LOVE WATCHING PEOPLE- airports provide an excellent venue for people watching. people are stressed, rushing for their flights, some are bored and trying to entertain themselves, some people are even sick. probably my most memorable airport experience occurred during senior year of high school when trying to go from atlanta to new york to visit NYU. all flights to la guardia and jfk were either cancelled or severely delayed so the airport was swarming with people. there were probably at least five school groups going to new york for some choir trip or something equally as bad ass. they all could be easily distinguished through their matching tshirts and complete disregard for their group aging southern baptist group leader. one of my faves was a drunk girl stumbling through the terminal on high heels looking like she was tits deep in margaritas. she also made a mexican friend to go with her mexican beverage. i think his name was carlos or juan or jose. either way. home girl slurred and stumbled her way after our south-of-the-border friend for hours and he was clearly not stoked on it. if only i could have seen the conclusion of this incongruent pairing. by far my favorite sight on that day was one of our aforementioned school group friends. he and a buddy were walking down the middle of the terminal when suddenly this guy stops, pauses for a second, bends over, pukes his guts out (looked like chicken pot pie or possibly fettuccine alfredo, either way-YUM), then he proceeds to straighten up, regain his composure, and continue on his way as if nothing happen. no effort to warn his fellow travelers, no move to get someone to clean it up, just carrying on with his day as if everyone pukes in the middle of an airport just for shits and giggles. that night i swear to god i was in a fun house, thankfully last night was not nearly as exciting. i did see some fat people discussing how delicious the 12 hour old chinese food smelled, a dude with a hot wife who looked relatively normal except for his killer lisp, and then there was the couple behind me from LA to salt lake city. wifey was maybe 5 feet. hubby was at least six feet 220 pounds, maybe even 235 and had a tuft of hair escaping from his shirt. seXXXy. the announcement comes on to turn off cell phones and the husband thinks he has to remove the battery from all electronic devices. wifey giggles and explains he shouldnt be so silly. then they have a chuckle and move on. after we land wifey gets her phone out and proceeds to call their pet sitter. normal right? hell to the no. first words out of her mouth "did you feed the tortoise?" WHO THE EFF OWNS A TORTOISE. after a brief discussion of the tortoise and various other less exotic creatures she hangs up and assures her husband that the tortoise has been fed, not to worry.
   
2. my next realization is that while i love watching people, i fucking hate talking to them. some people are just so stupid i just want to punch them in the face. some people just are strange to talk to. my first flight it was me in the middle in quite possibly the narrowest seat ever and two business men on my side. it was perfect because they had their business, i watched friends on the tv in the seat, no talking. great. however earlier upon arrival that the airport the guy who checked my bag had questions galore for me. trying to make polite small talk. F THAT. i dont want small talk. you are so wierd. he started saying something about UCLA and i dont even know where he was coming from. i then smiled and walked away. on my second flight the woman next to me was very nice. i answered a couple of her questions and then started reading my book, figuring that our relationship had run its course and we would exist in silent exit row harmony for the remainder of the flight. wrong again. she had more to say. the problem- my lovely sixty year old seat mate was a low talking. straight out of seinfeld low talker. i could hear the first word and then it would trail off in a stream of unintelligible mumbles. for the life of me i could not hear a single thing she said after word three. i reverted to my trusty old smile, nod, ignore. rude? yes. necessary? yes. problem solved
3. my final realization is that i am downright neurotic. whenever i go wheels up in a plane i think "this is it, i am never going to see terra firma again. the slightest bit of turbulence? an engine is out and we're going down. a tiny change in the constant whine of the engine? WE"RE GONNA DIE!!!!! its an issue really. i mean if i have several flights to get to where i'm going i make peace with my sins probably six times that day. its an issue. however, my neuroticism has is definitely not a new development. the first time i freaked the F out that i can vividly remember was when i was probably five. harrison was a little baby and it was the middle of summer. i was laying on my couch in my living room, absolutely hysterical , because i was convinced that the monsters from Mighty Morphin Power Rangers were going to attack my mother and my baby bro on the golf course and killing/maiming/ kidnapping them. i was inconsolable. i had images of goldar (see below) swooping down and taking harrisons car seat from the golf course. bad news bears. things just got worse from there. i played zelda ocarina of time when i was 11 and was so terrified i had to sleep in my parents room for a month. suffice it to say i am just a tad paranoid.
   

well i think thats about all i have to say about that. those are my words of wisdom for today. just for something to look forward to- i have a new BFF named marge. she is my new puppy and i will be posting pictures of how incredibly bad ass she is very soon. WOOOO