Yeefuckinghaw!!! Coming to you live from exciting Lufkin, Texas…
Clearly, no posting yesterday. After my thrilling day of airports, four-hour flights, and two-hour drives across east Texas, I just didn’t have the chutzpah to connect the laptop and thrown down the mad postage I usually bless teh Internets with.
Oh, and I’m sick again, too. Or was, rather. Mostly over that now.
That’s getting a little on my nerves, by the way. The being sick thing. I’ve caught more passing bugs this year than in the past 10 combined. I’m sure the stress of the past week probably kicked my immune system in the nuts and set me up for this one, but I don’t have any real explanation for the other 50 illnesses this year.
Except that I’m getting old. I’ll turn 34 a week from tomorrow (and I wear a size 10.5/11 shoe and love liquor and shiny things, in case you were wondering).
Thankfully, I’m almost over this bug, though. Just coughing up that last fun bit of phlegm now.
I’m thinking that might be why I don’t have much of an appetite while I’m sick. All the phlegm. Just looks and tastes nasty. Totally unappetizing.
Then again, maybe that’s just the ignorant American in me. Maybe there’s some culture in Asia or Africa that cherishes phlegm-like delicacies precisely for that taste and texture, and here I am bad-mouthing their phlegmy epicurean culture.
Maybe I’m missing out on a goldmine here… Maybe I should bottle this stuff up, throw a fancy French name on the label, and ship it overseas. Surely I’ve generated enough of it to put the kids through college already.
So, non-phlegm-related highlights of the trip so far…
- I learned that “Code Blue!” is one of those things you probably shouldn’t yell for comedic effect anywhere near the security checkpoint at PDX. The guy in front of me decided not to stop when he set off the metal detector. TSA didn’t appreciate it.
- I remembered how much fun it is to sit in the window seat of a four-hour flight while wearing jeans that bunch up the wrong way, especially when there’s really no room for you to tug/shift/adjust anything without drawing undo attention from the old woman sitting next to you.
- It’s fucking hot. And humid. The 93ish degree heat waiting after I stepped out of the airport in Houston was like the atomic leg drop from God. And if I ever forgot about the humidity, I’d quickly remember each time my glasses fogged up after stepping out of the car.
- Even if the CIA knocked me unconscious, threw me in the back of a black ops chopper, pumped me full of hallucinogens for a month, then dumped me in the middle of Texas, I could immediately figure out where I was just by the all the way-too-high-and-far-too-tight-in-all-the-wrong-places jeans. The fact that every older woman looks like she’d easily take second place in an Ann Richards lookalike contest would settle any remaining doubts.
- I missed the Monster Truck show at the Lufkin Expo Center by three days. God must surely hate me.
