Since I can't seem to put together a coherent thought that doesn't have anything to do with Ironman (at this point, there is not one minute of my day that doesn't include some type of thought about this race and even I am getting sick of hearing myself talk about it), I give to you a smattering of my daily rambles.
How I forgot to relay this juicy nugget of airport adventure, I will never know – must have been the jelly bean crash messin’ with me head.
But while during supervision with one of my screeners today, I was talking about traveling (because he is also going to Arizona at the same time as I but he leaves before the race, not that he would have attended anyways, cause that would be kinda weird).
Anyway, he told me that, if you have the right papers, you can bring a machine gun on the airplane. First off, I don’t know if this is true. But whatever. I was stunned at this because…wait for it…I was pulled aside at the lovely O’Hare, had my bag searched, and had my paint pens confiscated.
Oh yeah. You read that right.
Like, the kind that are as long as an index finger and about as wide, with a sponge at the end.
Um, and what kind of security threat, exactly, did I pose with my pens? I mean, what’s the worst I would have done? Paint a mustache on the pilot?
Now, I am all for airport security – believe me, that is a line I will actually stand in if it means that my 737 won’t drop from the sky in a fiery catastrophe because of some shampoo bomb or some shit. I’ll take off my jacket, my shoes – hell, even my underwire bra if it makes life safer for that crying baby in row 5F.
But I file this one under “Uber-Ridiculous.”
I was riding the trainer this afternoon and flipping the channels for something to occupy my mind, and I landed on a re-run of the season premiere of The Hills.
Is this show for serious?
Ashamed as I am to admit this, I know the main premise, because I did watch some of the Laguna Beach crap. But The Hills reaches a new low - the acting is beyond disgusting, and the plot is so over done. And then the worst is when the characters make these cliché proclamations, and then look longingly into the distance (could they be seeing their fame out there, dying a slow death? We can only hope. Sigh.) And this is what we call entertainment - what our bright, young teenagers are spending their time watching. I almost fell off the bike due to the lack of brain cells that were killed off during that time.
So then I watched another episode.
What ever happened to that show “Workout” on Bravo? Man, I loved that show. That Jackie was one hot badass. I think every girl I know, gay or straight, had a mad girl-crush on her. Even my married-with-child sister Ellen said she would cross the hetero line for her. Do we know if it’s still on?
Been in it for two days, and already I have eaten a week’s worth of groceries. I mean, I am literally in the scavenging-my-one-cabinet-for-a-packet-of-soy-sauce phase. I’ve started eating GUs for snacks at this point. Not to mention that I feel like I am crawling out of my skin with the cut-backs on the workouts (today was a 2000 yard swim, 45 minute bike). This week is DRAGGING, people.
Best Line of the Day:
On the Biggest Loser tonight, they did a triathlon (weee!!!) in Australia. So they jump in the water, and flash to an interview with Kelly, who says:
"It was wet, and I got water in my mouth!"
WHAT?!?!? Water in her mouth?!?!?! What kind of water do they have down in Australia? It's wet, AND it got in her mouth when she swam?
Australia really is upside down.