Now that the election is over, I just wanted to share some of my feelings.
I have a difficult time putting into words how strongly I felt about electing Barack Obama. I have to go back to when I was a little girl, and watched much of the Civil Rights struggles on TV. I can remember watching news reports of people being blasted with fire hoses. I remember seeing images of big white men standing in schoolhouse doorways blocking black students from entering. I couldn't understand how one person could treat another person in that way. Those images had a profound impact on me.
I grew up in the north. I went to an all white school. My parents worked with people of color, and there were times we would have company picnics and I would play with the other children. I never thought anything about it. They were just other kids.
As I grew older I began hearing things people would say. I am horrified to recall my dad saying nasty things, and I would often stand up to him about it. To his credit, he encouraged my thinking for myself.
The summer between 9th and 10th grade, a family from Mexico moved into the neighborhood across the street from my high school. One would have thought the world was coming to an end! Parents were up in arms. Some of the kids were terrified to think they would have to be in class with one of "those" kids. Many of us thought nothing of it. In fact, the kids in that family became very popular. I tended to be one of the quiet ones, and I watched how others behaved and listened to what they said.
In my senior year we had a class called American Problems. It was a great class, and the teacher encouraged us to think. Just before Thanksgiving break, he gave us an assignment in class; make a list of the 5 things we were most grateful for. My answers were pretty common as I recall, along the lines of family. Quite a few kids actually wrote "I am thankful I am white." That astonished me. I had not included in my identity the fact that I am white. It just wasn't part of my concept. A wonderful discussion ensued in class about racial issues. I began thinking more about the topic again, remembering the images I saw as a young girl.
When I went to college I made friends with a widely diverse group. I was a complete flower child, full of hope for the future, protesting the war, demanding an end to nuclear weapons, demanding equal rights for women, demanding justice for everyone, and making friends with people quite different from those I had been associated with in high school. I read voraciously and watched the news every night. One of my best friends was a black student, a male black student. When my dad found out he hit the roof. I found that very disturbing, yet I loved my dad and didn't want to disappoint him. My friend understood that our friendship had to remain a classroom friendship. We didn't associate outside the classroom, not even in the student union. As I look back on that, I feel ashamed. He was my friend, and I feel as though I abandoned his friendship. (And when I say friend, I do mean FRIEND.....nothing else----I shouldn't even need to say that, but I know that some of you reading this will wonder!) (and why should that even matter to me???)
As time went on I became more vocal about my outlook on the world. I stood up more for my beliefs. I would debate more. (and I was EXTREMELY shy!) I more fully developed my belief that all of us, every single person on this planet, is deserving of respect just for being a human being. We all are born, we breathe, we bleed, we hurt, we feel, we cry, we laugh, we get angry, we get sad, we get happy, we love, we are all the same...............yet we are also so very different, unique. I believe that just by virtue of being alive we deserve shelter, food, water, clothing, health care.....all those things that keep us alive. Is that radical? If so, then call me a radical. I no longer care what labels others put on me. That's one of the wonderful things about aging.
The election of Barack Obama means so many things to me. I never thought I would see the day when a black person was elected to be president of the United States. I voted for him in the primary. People I love told me, "he'll never win because he's black. America isn't ready for a black president." I kept saying yes we can and yes we are. I saw in him the hope I felt with Bobby Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King. I saw in him a strength and leadership that doesn't come along very often. I saw an intelligence that was beyond that of most anyone I can think of.
I would get emails from people full of the hate-mongering and fear-mongering permeating our country. I would usually respond back with factual information, and implore them to seek out the truth. It probably didn't do any good, but I felt better for doing it.
When the announcement came Tuesday night that Barack Obama won, I was so full of joy and pride. I was happy my candidate won (which hasn't happened often!), but I was happier that our country got past the racial barrier! What a glorious time to be alive!
And I still, to this day, do not have as part of my concept of myself the fact that I am white. I don't consider it important.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
wtf?
Sheesh, I never remember to come here. The only reason I did now was due to reading the blog of somebody I work with. EGADS.....she can write!
I had knee surgery on June 4, still not back to normal....whatever that is. Off work for about 7 weeks and go back to a mess. Hardly anything was taken care of, other than the absolute vital stuff. Still trying to catch up. No light at the end of the tunnel yet.
The economy sux and am stuck in a dead-end job I hate.
But hey, got Tuesday off thanks to tropical storm Fay. Went down to the beach to check out the waves. It was great.
I had knee surgery on June 4, still not back to normal....whatever that is. Off work for about 7 weeks and go back to a mess. Hardly anything was taken care of, other than the absolute vital stuff. Still trying to catch up. No light at the end of the tunnel yet.
The economy sux and am stuck in a dead-end job I hate.
But hey, got Tuesday off thanks to tropical storm Fay. Went down to the beach to check out the waves. It was great.
Friday, November 02, 2007
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Travel Tribulations
I've always enjoyed traveling. There's something about it that speaks to my soul. So when my supervisor said she wanted me to travel to Atlanta for a workshop I was elated!
Monday, June 11, I catch a flight from PBI to Atlanta. The flight was unremarkable until we were about 20 minutes from landing. The turbulence hit. As I grabbed hold of the armrests and looked around at my fellow passengers, I could see the looks of concern. I actually became nauseous, and flying has never been an issue for me.
We finally land, (15 minutes early at 5:15 p.m.) then sit, and sit, and sit. Looking out the windows several other planes were also sitting. After an hour we were finally allowed to deplane. I placed a call to my son asking him to check online for delays in Atlanta. Evidently there were strong storms in New Jersey and New York that delayed departures, resulting in delayed landings. A quick stop at the restroom for relief, then another quick stop in the smoking lounge.
Walking through the concourse, finding the signs leading to baggage claim. Walking, walking, walking, continuing to follow the signs pointing to baggage claim. This was my first time at Atlanta's airport, and I was already feeling not quite fond of it. There are trains along side the walkway, but the signs for the trains aren't quite clear. At some point, I determined that I was able to take the train to baggage claim.
I get to baggage claim. No big signs indicating which carousels were for which airlines. So, I start going along the different ones, peering at the small signs looking for my airline. The last carousel was mine (something about Murphy's Law runs through my mind).
Next step was to find the shuttle I needed to take to my hotel. Ground transportation, aha, I think, that's the direction I need to go. Cute images of shuttles in different colors to indicate which type of shuttle for each area. The one for hotels were pink. I make it there, after walking for quite a bit, and scan the shuttles in the area looking for my hotel. No luck. I light another cigarette and wait for more shuttles to appear. After about 15 minutes, I find a friendly looking flight attendant and inquire about the shuttle for my hotel. She informed me that the one I needed had left a little bit ago after boarding soldiers, but another one ought to be along shortly. So, I wait, and wait. I finally asked one of the shuttle drivers about my particular shuttle. He informed me I needed to go to the next area over, as the area I was in was only for hotels around the airport. (I was headed for downtown Atlanta)
Off I go to head to the other area. Walking along there I noticed all those shuttles appeared to be for parking areas. I ask a porter how I might find the shuttle I needed, he didn't know. I find a driver and he tells me I needed to go to the pink shuttle area. Needless to say, by this time I was starting to feel extremely frustrated. I called the hotel, asked them where I would find the shuttle for the hotel. Ground transportation was the answer I received, which was where I was at. By this point my face must have shown some concern, as drivers for several shuttles began asking me if I needed some assistance. After being told by a few that they didn't know where I needed to go, one driver pointed me in the direction of the airport where I exited baggage claim and said I needed to go there alongside the building and find "Link."
So, I headed back looking for something called Link. Aha, I saw a couple shuttles labeled Link. I found my shuttle!
I purchase my ticket and get aboard. We sit there for about 15 minutes, then off we go. My hotel was the first stop. Yea, I think. Finally I can get to my room, get some food, take a shower and get to bed!
I go to the registration desk armed with my confirmation papers, and am informed that "We're sorry, but we are all filled up. We don't have a room for you." I was dumbstruck!! My reservation had been made 6 weeks previously! Well, it seemed that one company decided they were going to stay for another night, resulting in many people showing up not having rooms!!! I was informed they were going to send me to another hotel and would pick me up in the morning to return from my conference. I was not happy, to say the least, but there was nothing I could do other than go to the other hotel.
At 10:50 p.m. I was finally in my room! Four and 1/2 hours since I had landed in Atlanta!!
In the morning I awoke to find a bill under my door. I had been told that the cost of my stay there would be covered by the hotel where I was supposed to have stayed! I get on the phone to the original hotel and was informed that my reservation was only for one night. Uh, no, I tell her, my reservation was for 2 nights! She gave me the number for customer service and I called them. The woman I spoke with was very nice. She listened to my saga, then promised she would call me within an hour. Less than 5 minutes later I get a phone call from the night manager of the original hotel. He informs me that yes, I do have a room for the night, and that I should not have received a bill, and he said he would contact the hotel where I was and make sure they knew the bill was to be charged to them. He said that in order to help make up for the inconvenience he would set me up in a suite. When I inquired as to whether it was a smoking room or not, he said he would make a notation that I would be allowed to smoke in the room. He also told me that if I wished I could take a taxi back to the hotel and they would pay the driver once we arrived.
So, I get ready, go through my morning routine, and go downstairs to check out. Yes, the manager from the original hotel had called and I was given a corrected bill indicating no charge. I go outside, get in a taxi, and end up back at my original hotel.
The conference was great. Entertaining and educational, well worth my time.
When I went to the registration desk I was set up with my room and informed it was a no smoking room Uh huh, I was promised a smoking room. The clerk said yes, there was a notation that I was to be allowed to smoke, and a bell hop would bring up an ashtray. I finally get to my room (if that was a suite, I would hate to see a "regular" room!!)
The ashtray wasn't delivered, so I went down to the gift shop, found an ashtray, and returned to my room.
Ok, so now I had my ashtray (guess one needs to be a smoker to understand). After relaxing for awhile, I decided I was off to the Hard Rock for dinner and souvenir shopping. After a glorious and sunny day, the rain decided to come down just as I was leaving the hotel. Never being one to let a little rain bother me, I grabbed my umbrella from my purse and off I went. (I carry my life in my purse!) Up a hill. I hate walking up hills!
I have very little cartilage in my knees, and they were already burning from my trek through the airport from the day before. But, I was not to be deterred from my destination.
The Hard Rock carries Pepsi products. Seeing as how I don't like Pepsi, I ordered a Dr. Pepper. The server brought my soda, I took a sip and practically gagged! I don't know what it was, but it certainly wasn't Dr. Pepper. She insisted it was, but offered to get me something else. I opted for root beer. I enjoyed my dinner, watching videos of AC/DC, U2, the Police, Hoobestank, and soaking up the atmosphere. I got my obligatory Hard Rock T-Shirt to add to my collection and traipsed back to my room. Downhill this time. (I'm glad it wasn't the other way around) LOL
Those who know me are aware that I collect Coca-Cola memorabilia. May 24 of this year marked the opening of World of Coca-Cola in Atlanta, very near the Underground. I was planning on taking a taxi there and peruse the goodies. I called them and found out they closed at 6:00. I was disappointed, but figured I'd just stay in and watch TV, something I rarely do. The hotel didn't carry my favorite channel (MSNBC), and regardless of how often I flipped through the stations, I could find nothing of interest. I did find out, on my TV surfing, there was a severe thunderstorm warning for the Atlanta area.
My room, while not a suite (by my definition), was a corner room and had large windows on two sides. I watched as the storm rolled in and saw some amazing lightning as a backdrop to the lit skyline of Atlanta. After awhile I snuggled in bed and dozed off and on while the history channel ran stories of the destruction of the earth.
Morning came and it was time to get ready for my trip home. Given the few items I purchased and the materials from the conference, I had more to take home than I had brought. One medium size suitcase, a backpack, and my purse. I had to get creative and figure out a way to get everything packed. After several times of packing, unpacking, and packing again; I finally managed to get all the liquid things that wouldn't fit in a small baggie into my suitcase. I checked out and went to wait for the Link.
The trip to the airport was quick, and the line to check in was long. The woman standing at the entrance to the line told me I needed to get my boarding pass at the kiosk. I began entering the information when the screen told me I needed to enter my confirmation number. I pulled out the paperwork I had gotten from work.....no confirmation number could be found. I went through that paperwork several times, while precariously steadying my suitcase, protecting my open purse, and balancing my now open backpack looking for that number. After several frustrating minutes, and trying not to let any semblance of panic set in, I thought that possibly the confirmation number could be found on my ticket to Atlanta. I dug through my purse and voila! There was my confirmation number. I entered it, and the message on the screen informed me there was no information to be found to match that number. Surely I entered the number incorrectly. So, I entered it again, double checking each letter and number. Same thing, no information to be found to match that number.
I returned to the woman at the entrance to the line, which thankfully had shrunk, and she let me enter and told me to just let the agent know.
When it was my turn to check my bag the agent asked for my boarding pass. I explained what happened, he rolled his eyes and was visibly irritated. (whatever, I thought to myself) He did his thing, and stamped my boarding pass with the dreaded words "See check-in agent." I groaned inside, figuring I was not going to enjoy the experience. I then headed inside the airport.
I thought about having a quick smoke prior to entering, but remembering there were smoking lounges inside, I decided my best bet was to get checked in at the gate first. When I entered the airport I could not believe my eyes. The line for security was twisting and turning throughout the entire baggage area!! There were news crews there reporting on the mess. I'm sure I ended up being a blip on the evening news in Atlanta.
The line wasn't moving, and I began worrying that I wouldn't make my flight. The woman in front of me voiced her worry about missing her flight, which was 20 minutes after mine. She and I began talking. She lived just outside Atlanta, was a frequent flyer, and told me she had never seen the line even close to this long.
The airport employees were herding us like cattle, this way and that, through one aisle then another. What a wonderful way to promote camaraderie amongst travelers!
Finally, I could see daylight! There were the little buckets to place items in for screening. I placed my things in the buckets, walked through the scanner and went to gather my things. A TSA agent held up my purse and asked me, "Ma'am, is this your bag?" My heart sank! What could I have forgotten??? He pulled out my zippo lighter. (which, I might add, has been in my purse for a few years and has gone through several airport screenings-it didn't even cross my mind!) I have a small collection of zippo lighters, and that particular lighter is the only one I have ever used. I haven't used it in a few years, and just keep it with me for sentimental reasons. So, we get a supervisor over, because I am not willing to relinquish my zippo.
I know a TSA agent, and I know I was told by him that one zippo lighter could make it through. However, as you can imagine, that didn't fly with them. The supervisor informed me I had 3 options. One, I could give it to someone to hold for me. (I told him there wasn't anyone there since I was there on business and was on my way home) Two, I could send it to myself. (I told him I had no way to get to a post office, and if I could I would not be able to get back in time to make my flight) Three, I could contribute it to the TSA lighters. (I won't say what my response was to that!) I must admit, I did give him a bit of a difficult time, but not too much because I didn't want to get hauled away!! Finally, he told me there was a post office in the airport. So, he walked me back through different points in security, and instructing the agents at the points to let me through to the beginning of the line when I returned.
I got to the post office, got an envelope, and posted my lighter to me. I go back through security and hustle to get to my flight. When I finally get to my concourse, I discover that my gate is at the end of the concourse. My knees are burning (that darn cartilage), I need to use the restroom, I need to get something to drink, and I really wanted a smoke! The line at my gate was long, so I ran quickly to the restroom. I stopped at a vending machine and got a bottle of coke. I go up to the desk with my boarding pass and ID. Hardly anyone is left outside the entrance, and the ticket agent doesn't even acknowledge my presence. She is calling out names and assigning seats. When she finally calls my name off I go to get on the plane. Four minutes before departure time.
I sit down, grab a xanax, buckle up, and take a deep breath. The woman sitting next to me starts talking about crashing into the ocean and getting eaten by sharks. Once we're in the air, I just close my eyes and doze off.
I think I'll just avoid Atlanta in the future.
Monday, June 11, I catch a flight from PBI to Atlanta. The flight was unremarkable until we were about 20 minutes from landing. The turbulence hit. As I grabbed hold of the armrests and looked around at my fellow passengers, I could see the looks of concern. I actually became nauseous, and flying has never been an issue for me.
We finally land, (15 minutes early at 5:15 p.m.) then sit, and sit, and sit. Looking out the windows several other planes were also sitting. After an hour we were finally allowed to deplane. I placed a call to my son asking him to check online for delays in Atlanta. Evidently there were strong storms in New Jersey and New York that delayed departures, resulting in delayed landings. A quick stop at the restroom for relief, then another quick stop in the smoking lounge.
Walking through the concourse, finding the signs leading to baggage claim. Walking, walking, walking, continuing to follow the signs pointing to baggage claim. This was my first time at Atlanta's airport, and I was already feeling not quite fond of it. There are trains along side the walkway, but the signs for the trains aren't quite clear. At some point, I determined that I was able to take the train to baggage claim.
I get to baggage claim. No big signs indicating which carousels were for which airlines. So, I start going along the different ones, peering at the small signs looking for my airline. The last carousel was mine (something about Murphy's Law runs through my mind).
Next step was to find the shuttle I needed to take to my hotel. Ground transportation, aha, I think, that's the direction I need to go. Cute images of shuttles in different colors to indicate which type of shuttle for each area. The one for hotels were pink. I make it there, after walking for quite a bit, and scan the shuttles in the area looking for my hotel. No luck. I light another cigarette and wait for more shuttles to appear. After about 15 minutes, I find a friendly looking flight attendant and inquire about the shuttle for my hotel. She informed me that the one I needed had left a little bit ago after boarding soldiers, but another one ought to be along shortly. So, I wait, and wait. I finally asked one of the shuttle drivers about my particular shuttle. He informed me I needed to go to the next area over, as the area I was in was only for hotels around the airport. (I was headed for downtown Atlanta)
Off I go to head to the other area. Walking along there I noticed all those shuttles appeared to be for parking areas. I ask a porter how I might find the shuttle I needed, he didn't know. I find a driver and he tells me I needed to go to the pink shuttle area. Needless to say, by this time I was starting to feel extremely frustrated. I called the hotel, asked them where I would find the shuttle for the hotel. Ground transportation was the answer I received, which was where I was at. By this point my face must have shown some concern, as drivers for several shuttles began asking me if I needed some assistance. After being told by a few that they didn't know where I needed to go, one driver pointed me in the direction of the airport where I exited baggage claim and said I needed to go there alongside the building and find "Link."
So, I headed back looking for something called Link. Aha, I saw a couple shuttles labeled Link. I found my shuttle!
I purchase my ticket and get aboard. We sit there for about 15 minutes, then off we go. My hotel was the first stop. Yea, I think. Finally I can get to my room, get some food, take a shower and get to bed!
I go to the registration desk armed with my confirmation papers, and am informed that "We're sorry, but we are all filled up. We don't have a room for you." I was dumbstruck!! My reservation had been made 6 weeks previously! Well, it seemed that one company decided they were going to stay for another night, resulting in many people showing up not having rooms!!! I was informed they were going to send me to another hotel and would pick me up in the morning to return from my conference. I was not happy, to say the least, but there was nothing I could do other than go to the other hotel.
At 10:50 p.m. I was finally in my room! Four and 1/2 hours since I had landed in Atlanta!!
In the morning I awoke to find a bill under my door. I had been told that the cost of my stay there would be covered by the hotel where I was supposed to have stayed! I get on the phone to the original hotel and was informed that my reservation was only for one night. Uh, no, I tell her, my reservation was for 2 nights! She gave me the number for customer service and I called them. The woman I spoke with was very nice. She listened to my saga, then promised she would call me within an hour. Less than 5 minutes later I get a phone call from the night manager of the original hotel. He informs me that yes, I do have a room for the night, and that I should not have received a bill, and he said he would contact the hotel where I was and make sure they knew the bill was to be charged to them. He said that in order to help make up for the inconvenience he would set me up in a suite. When I inquired as to whether it was a smoking room or not, he said he would make a notation that I would be allowed to smoke in the room. He also told me that if I wished I could take a taxi back to the hotel and they would pay the driver once we arrived.
So, I get ready, go through my morning routine, and go downstairs to check out. Yes, the manager from the original hotel had called and I was given a corrected bill indicating no charge. I go outside, get in a taxi, and end up back at my original hotel.
The conference was great. Entertaining and educational, well worth my time.
When I went to the registration desk I was set up with my room and informed it was a no smoking room Uh huh, I was promised a smoking room. The clerk said yes, there was a notation that I was to be allowed to smoke, and a bell hop would bring up an ashtray. I finally get to my room (if that was a suite, I would hate to see a "regular" room!!)
The ashtray wasn't delivered, so I went down to the gift shop, found an ashtray, and returned to my room.
Ok, so now I had my ashtray (guess one needs to be a smoker to understand). After relaxing for awhile, I decided I was off to the Hard Rock for dinner and souvenir shopping. After a glorious and sunny day, the rain decided to come down just as I was leaving the hotel. Never being one to let a little rain bother me, I grabbed my umbrella from my purse and off I went. (I carry my life in my purse!) Up a hill. I hate walking up hills!
I have very little cartilage in my knees, and they were already burning from my trek through the airport from the day before. But, I was not to be deterred from my destination.
The Hard Rock carries Pepsi products. Seeing as how I don't like Pepsi, I ordered a Dr. Pepper. The server brought my soda, I took a sip and practically gagged! I don't know what it was, but it certainly wasn't Dr. Pepper. She insisted it was, but offered to get me something else. I opted for root beer. I enjoyed my dinner, watching videos of AC/DC, U2, the Police, Hoobestank, and soaking up the atmosphere. I got my obligatory Hard Rock T-Shirt to add to my collection and traipsed back to my room. Downhill this time. (I'm glad it wasn't the other way around) LOL
Those who know me are aware that I collect Coca-Cola memorabilia. May 24 of this year marked the opening of World of Coca-Cola in Atlanta, very near the Underground. I was planning on taking a taxi there and peruse the goodies. I called them and found out they closed at 6:00. I was disappointed, but figured I'd just stay in and watch TV, something I rarely do. The hotel didn't carry my favorite channel (MSNBC), and regardless of how often I flipped through the stations, I could find nothing of interest. I did find out, on my TV surfing, there was a severe thunderstorm warning for the Atlanta area.
My room, while not a suite (by my definition), was a corner room and had large windows on two sides. I watched as the storm rolled in and saw some amazing lightning as a backdrop to the lit skyline of Atlanta. After awhile I snuggled in bed and dozed off and on while the history channel ran stories of the destruction of the earth.
Morning came and it was time to get ready for my trip home. Given the few items I purchased and the materials from the conference, I had more to take home than I had brought. One medium size suitcase, a backpack, and my purse. I had to get creative and figure out a way to get everything packed. After several times of packing, unpacking, and packing again; I finally managed to get all the liquid things that wouldn't fit in a small baggie into my suitcase. I checked out and went to wait for the Link.
The trip to the airport was quick, and the line to check in was long. The woman standing at the entrance to the line told me I needed to get my boarding pass at the kiosk. I began entering the information when the screen told me I needed to enter my confirmation number. I pulled out the paperwork I had gotten from work.....no confirmation number could be found. I went through that paperwork several times, while precariously steadying my suitcase, protecting my open purse, and balancing my now open backpack looking for that number. After several frustrating minutes, and trying not to let any semblance of panic set in, I thought that possibly the confirmation number could be found on my ticket to Atlanta. I dug through my purse and voila! There was my confirmation number. I entered it, and the message on the screen informed me there was no information to be found to match that number. Surely I entered the number incorrectly. So, I entered it again, double checking each letter and number. Same thing, no information to be found to match that number.
I returned to the woman at the entrance to the line, which thankfully had shrunk, and she let me enter and told me to just let the agent know.
When it was my turn to check my bag the agent asked for my boarding pass. I explained what happened, he rolled his eyes and was visibly irritated. (whatever, I thought to myself) He did his thing, and stamped my boarding pass with the dreaded words "See check-in agent." I groaned inside, figuring I was not going to enjoy the experience. I then headed inside the airport.
I thought about having a quick smoke prior to entering, but remembering there were smoking lounges inside, I decided my best bet was to get checked in at the gate first. When I entered the airport I could not believe my eyes. The line for security was twisting and turning throughout the entire baggage area!! There were news crews there reporting on the mess. I'm sure I ended up being a blip on the evening news in Atlanta.
The line wasn't moving, and I began worrying that I wouldn't make my flight. The woman in front of me voiced her worry about missing her flight, which was 20 minutes after mine. She and I began talking. She lived just outside Atlanta, was a frequent flyer, and told me she had never seen the line even close to this long.
The airport employees were herding us like cattle, this way and that, through one aisle then another. What a wonderful way to promote camaraderie amongst travelers!
Finally, I could see daylight! There were the little buckets to place items in for screening. I placed my things in the buckets, walked through the scanner and went to gather my things. A TSA agent held up my purse and asked me, "Ma'am, is this your bag?" My heart sank! What could I have forgotten??? He pulled out my zippo lighter. (which, I might add, has been in my purse for a few years and has gone through several airport screenings-it didn't even cross my mind!) I have a small collection of zippo lighters, and that particular lighter is the only one I have ever used. I haven't used it in a few years, and just keep it with me for sentimental reasons. So, we get a supervisor over, because I am not willing to relinquish my zippo.
I know a TSA agent, and I know I was told by him that one zippo lighter could make it through. However, as you can imagine, that didn't fly with them. The supervisor informed me I had 3 options. One, I could give it to someone to hold for me. (I told him there wasn't anyone there since I was there on business and was on my way home) Two, I could send it to myself. (I told him I had no way to get to a post office, and if I could I would not be able to get back in time to make my flight) Three, I could contribute it to the TSA lighters. (I won't say what my response was to that!) I must admit, I did give him a bit of a difficult time, but not too much because I didn't want to get hauled away!! Finally, he told me there was a post office in the airport. So, he walked me back through different points in security, and instructing the agents at the points to let me through to the beginning of the line when I returned.
I got to the post office, got an envelope, and posted my lighter to me. I go back through security and hustle to get to my flight. When I finally get to my concourse, I discover that my gate is at the end of the concourse. My knees are burning (that darn cartilage), I need to use the restroom, I need to get something to drink, and I really wanted a smoke! The line at my gate was long, so I ran quickly to the restroom. I stopped at a vending machine and got a bottle of coke. I go up to the desk with my boarding pass and ID. Hardly anyone is left outside the entrance, and the ticket agent doesn't even acknowledge my presence. She is calling out names and assigning seats. When she finally calls my name off I go to get on the plane. Four minutes before departure time.
I sit down, grab a xanax, buckle up, and take a deep breath. The woman sitting next to me starts talking about crashing into the ocean and getting eaten by sharks. Once we're in the air, I just close my eyes and doze off.
I think I'll just avoid Atlanta in the future.
Catching Up
Ok, I'm going to try to start doing this on a fairly regular basis. What's fairly regular? For me, who knows?? I suppose when the urge strikes.
I am going to try to import things I've posted elsewhere. Here's to hoping I'll be successful.
I am going to try to import things I've posted elsewhere. Here's to hoping I'll be successful.
Olbermann comments......Bu$h and Chainy should resign!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NN-eGOtBGbg
Keith Olbermann......definitely someone who I can classify as one I greatly admire!!
Keith Olbermann......definitely someone who I can classify as one I greatly admire!!
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
egads!
I've just totally neglected all this! Bad, bad, bad! Now if I could figure out a way to be independently wealthy I wouldn't have this time difficulty.
The world has gone crazy. Bush was re-elected....and I still cannot believe it! I have been in mourning since 11/3/04 and will continue to be until things improve. I don't understand how it could have happened. His approval rating was way down. Some say it was because people don't want to change the administration during a time of war. What ridiculous nonsense! We shouldn't be in the war in the FIRST PLACE! Bush should be impeached and prosecuted for war crimes. And just to prove what an idiot he is, he can't be bothered while on vacation to respond to the worst catastrophe in our known history! I cannot be proud to be an American anymore until he is out of office!
The world has gone crazy. Bush was re-elected....and I still cannot believe it! I have been in mourning since 11/3/04 and will continue to be until things improve. I don't understand how it could have happened. His approval rating was way down. Some say it was because people don't want to change the administration during a time of war. What ridiculous nonsense! We shouldn't be in the war in the FIRST PLACE! Bush should be impeached and prosecuted for war crimes. And just to prove what an idiot he is, he can't be bothered while on vacation to respond to the worst catastrophe in our known history! I cannot be proud to be an American anymore until he is out of office!
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