What a trip

Take off your shoes.  Take off your jacket.  Take out your computer.  Take out your liquids.  Everyone has his or her own story about the security line at the airport.  I have a few of my favorites.

One

In college, for some reason, we liked to take silverware from restaurants.  On a particularly nice evening, Jeanice was able to slip a fat steak knife into her purse.  This was the day before Thanksgiving break in 2001 – two months after 9/11. 

Of course, when she shows up at security (forgetful Jeanice – never taking anything out of her purse) the “friendly” TSA agent finds the knife.  Her Arab last name did not help the situation.  As the agent began searching through her purse.  He opened her wallet and pulled out her multiple fake ID’s. 

It’s a miracle she made her flight on time.  Or did she?  I can’t remember.

Two

The day after Thanksgiving 2008.  No liquids are allowed through security.  I’m flying back to Emory from Thanksgiving with my family – leftover turkey sandwich and fixings in tow.

I slide my bag into the scanner and when it emerges on the other side, a man reaches in and swiftly pulls out my Tupperware of cranberry sauce.  “No liquids.”  He says as he tosses it into the garbage before I could argue.  I stand there with my mouth open.  Then I begin to cry.

I definitely would have stood there and finished off all the cranberry.  I have been known to open a can of jellied cranberry and finish it off as a snack.  Oh the injustice by the TSA!

Three

Spring 2006.  My mom is carrying seven bags through the airport.  Why doesn’t she just use one big bag?  We’ll never know.  She has a purse, a pilot case, her franklin organizer (yep, 2006), multiple shopping bags, and 3 coats and sweaters (even though she’s traveling from Miami to Hawaii via Houston).

Since she clearly looks suspicious, she is pulled over for a more thorough search.  Does this bother her?  No.  “Sir, since you’re looking, I have a chocolate bar in one of these bags, can you find it for me?”  Right, TSA has time to look for your chocolate bar.  They’re not busy keeping our air safe or anything.

Four

Leaving the most wonderful vacation with my whole family, Mike, and the beach, I was planning on catching the 6am flight back to New York.  This flight requires me to get off the airplane, finagle my way onto the $12 bus, and show up at work around 10:40 – hoping that no one notices.  I figured after a week away, no one would remember that I worked there anyway.  Nevertheless, I had no option to stop at home and drop off my suitcase – it was definitely straight to the office.

Mike, being the wonderful man that he is, offered to help me because he was going back a day early.  I excitedly took him up on his offer before he could take it back.  I packed up my only-technically-carry-on sized, bright pink suitcase and sent him on his way. 

I didn’t think twice about the potential security problems until I got a text, “A cheese grater, really?!”  Oops.  Yeah, I guess my mom gave me one of those to bring back.  Oh, and my ankle weights look like bombs?  Yeah, sorry about that. 

Dentist!

Some people can’t open their mouth very wide.  Some people hate the sound of drills.  Some people hate fresh breath (you know who you are).  I have none of these problems – I love the dentist!

Since I was a kid, I loved the feeling of getting my teeth cleaned.  The grit of the flavored polish (strawberry or coconut… anything but bubblegum) between my teeth left me giddy for days.  The burning sensation of the fluoride rinse – even after 45 seconds of swishing – was the part I most looked forward to.  As I left the dentist, I would always grab as many toys as I could out of the kangaroo pouch (usually about three, which frequently included a bouncy ball, stickers, and one of those gummy spiders you could throw against the wall and it would slowly fall down.  Those things are so cool!  Anyone know where I can find one?).

Perhaps my love for the dentist is only because I am fortunate enough to have never needed braces, have had only one cavity (when I was 17 and old enough not to be traumatized), and went to a dentist with bird and fish mobiles hanging from the ceiling.  It might also be that I just prefer strange things and always have – spinach over chocolate; tofu over hamburgers; and the Disney channel over something more age appropriate (for a 30 year old). 

Needless to say, when I made my first dentist appointment in New York, I couldn’t wait.  Since everything in New York is more expensive than anywhere else, I have been holding off on the dentist.  A Groupon came out and for $36 I bought a cleaning, exam, and x-rays.  The second I bought it – before the deal was even closed – I called and booked the next appointment.  I waited for a week, and yesterday was the day I finally got to go!

I arrived anticipating running my tongue over completely plaque-free pearly-whites.  The office was small and cramped, but most places in New York are.  After waiting nearly 30 min (don’t they know I bill every 6 min of my time?) I got to sit down in the chair!  I put up with the x-rays until the dentist finally came in.  She was young and was happy to answer all of my questions.  I was shocked when she said she would be doing my cleaning herself – I’m used to a hygienist.  I opened my mouth and looked up at the flat screen on the ceiling playing Judge Joe Brown.  This was very different from the fish mobiles in the large glass building surrounded by Palm Trees that I was used to.

She started the cleaning and immediately I felt like it was not what I was used to.  The sharp pick that squirted water was moving much faster and much harder than I was used to.  I winced and held my breath for a while.  When I opened my eyes, I saw the dentist shaking her head.  “ooooaat?”  I asked.  No response.  “Oooaaay yooo aaaaiinnn oorrr eeeaad?”  I asked louder.  “Too much blood,” she mumbled.  Keeping my head still, I darted my eyes to her gloved hands that were moving in and out of my mouth.  They were covered in blood and more was spraying on them every second.

I began to panic.  This is bad.  A little blood is normal but this isn’t.  What if the instruments aren’t clean?  What if I don’t stop bleeding?  What if this hurts?  She finally stopped with the pick axe and began the polishing.  That was only slightly more comfortable.  Fortunately, it was the fastest cleaning I ever had.  “There you go, all done.”  She said, “See you in 6 months.”  She had left the room.  I was feeling empty inside.  That’s all?  I wasn’t expecting a toy at my age, but where was my free toothbrush?  Or my floss?  I sighed and walked back to work.

On the street outside, I ran my tongue across the front of my no longer bloody teeth.  I crunched down on a bit of grit leftover from the polish.  I smiled.

Camp Anawanna

Two weekends ago we went camping for likely the last time this season!  After months of sweltering heat, of course, a cold front comes through on our camping weekend so we're stuck in sweat shirts huddled over night in 40 degree weather!

Nevertheless, it's nice to go camping with the group because everyone else is prepared with things like food and fire.  All I have to do is show up with my two bedroom 10' x 15' luxury tent and queen sized air mattress.

It's usually nice to have a bedroom and a living room in the middle of the woods.  Our luxurious digs felt even better when we set up on the edge of a stream.  Our campground was likely flooded a few weeks earlier with the hurricane, but now, the stream was just a little trickle - it didn't even overflow when the boys on our trip put an extra little trickle in it.

When we arrived, our camping buddies already had the fire going so we were free to go play frisbee and explore.

This campground was slightly different because apparently people actually lived there!  Double wide trailers with tacky lawn ornaments dominated the area.  I didn't understand.  You live in a trailer in the woods!  Why would you ruin that with plastic flamingos and rainbow pinwheels?!

An old boat (we were many miles from the ocean) laid in the middle of a clearing.  "Where do you think that boat travels?"  I asked.  "Where do you think that  boat travels?"  Mike responds pointing to a wooden pirate ship with a life sized Jesus cross.  I immediately declared myself captain!

The fun started at night when we strung christmas lights and turned on a strobe light.  Pink Floyd began playing in the background.  That's when I realized that Pink Floyd is basically the same as the "halloween" soundtrack that people play at haunted houses.  There was only slightly less moaning.  I gobbled my spicy hot dogs and chili.  Then we got to make s'mores (or shmores as my mom calls them).

I slept very well listening to the sounds of the stream with 4 blankets piled on top of me.