For instance, I can stand the fact that the flying experience has now been forever spoiled for the rest of us by the stupid terrorists. Flying USED to be fun. It USED to be an enjoyable, relaxing way to travel.
But now, it requires trying to remember all essential liquids have to be in teeny weeny containers in a quart size ziplock. It requires being at the airport WAY too early, in order to be forced to dump all my personal belongings into the bin they used to use to bus tables, and standing barefoot where all the other people with athlete's foot are standing barefoot, and walking through stupid machines that show my kibbles and bits, and being wanded and searched by people I do not even know, and frankly, some of whom I'm having a hard time working up the desire to want to know, especially when they stick their hand places I don't let other people stick their hands.
Yes, as much as I detest all those inconveniences, I can stand them, because I know they are for my protection. Because the blanketyblank terrorists are afoot among us. Well, at least a few are.
It nauseates me to think of the terrible losses suffered by many families due to 9/11, so if you think I'm making light of that, I'm not. It's heartrending. I can't even begin to know how to address that.
But the end result of the actions of a few jerks is that the whole world has to suffer these inconveniences whenever we travel, for the sake of safety.
And, I'm all for that. Better safe than sorry. I actually feel quite sorry for the TSA workers who have to do a difficult job, that is often unpleasant, as if people's lives depended on them doing their job well. Because the reality is, people's lives DO depend on them doing their job well. So, thank you to all the TSA workers out there.
In my narcissistic little world, things have just taken a terrible turn for the worse.
Osama Bin Laden had done gone and messed with my hair, and I'm none too happy about it.
My sweet hair stylist moved to Houston. (To be clear, this was not Osama Bin Laden's fault. As much as I'd like to blame him for this, but it's just not his fault). All her clients were despondent. Inconsolable. We looked around, but could not find her equal. As she received our emails, she was moved. Deeply touched. She felt our hair pain. Finally, she acquiesced. She caved to our cries. She started coming back to Nashville every 6 to 8 weeks to cut and color hair. The bells rang. The people sang. The earth rejoiced. And God saw that it was good. And so, for a while longer, my hair was happy.
And when Mama's hair is happy, everybody's happy, at least around this house.
|Me, on a good hair day.|
Cut to: yesterday.
If you will remember, on Sunday night it was announced that Osama Bin Laden met his end. On Monday morning, my hair stylist showed up at her airport to fly to Nashville to do hair, and was told that due to the heightened terror alert, she could not check her bag, which contained all her hair-doing stuff.
So, even in his departure from this earth, he has spoiled my life. THIS IS GETTING PERSONAL, BUDDY!!!
P. S. This post is totally tongue in cheek, and I am well aware that me having to find a new hairstylist is NOTHING on the scale of human tragedy and world events that we are actually talking about here.
Dang it. :-D