i'm confused

so....is it hot or "hot"?

in other words...



hot or NOT hot?

more airport hijinks

5:35 am is not a good time to make a Junior Varsity move.

On the morning of 5/9/08, on my way to Playa de Carmen, I stood in front of the United Airlines self check in kiosk and swiped my credit card. The following words flashed across my screen: “Your flight is actually on US Airways, Dumbass.”

Frustration!!! My instinct in situations such as this (any situation, really), is to turn to the nearest Co2 emitting mammal for solace and comfort. Unfortunately, the small boy standing to my left started to cry as I approached him with outstretched arms and a worried look in my eyes. I ran outside to catch the employee airport bus instead.

Airport buses are strangely similar worldwide, aren’t they? I think they must be manufactured by the same company the world over. It wouldn’t even surprise me one bit if the airport shuttles on flippin' MARS bounced to the same bussy rhythm, and had the same sticky upholstery (blue with yellow and orange lightening bolts).

By this time, low grade panic was pulsing through my body. I was going to be late. So…I asked the only other breathing being on the bus for help and comfort (obviously…). Enter cantankerous driver with Tourette's Syndrome.

Irene: Excuse me. Hi. Are we close to US Airways?
Driver: Grunt. Issalastah (translation: Grunt. It’s the last stop.)
Irene: Ok, thank you.
Driver: Oil fire! Oil fire! Tire fire! Tire fire! SKAAAAA! (translation…???? NO idea. None whatsoever.)

Interlude: Doo doo doo…Irene listens to some music to sooth nerves. Takes a Vicodin and does breathing exercises.

Driver: Grrr, Geta hera wa!! (translation: girl, get out here and walk!)

Sigh. It’s only 5:53 am and it’s already been a long day.

OMG: I just saw something to add to my airport observation list: People who pre-wear their neck pillows and walk around with them on BEFORE THEY ARE IN THE PLANE!!!

why is it that i STILL press "9" whenever i make a phone call from my parent's home?

i'm at home hanging out with my family. turns out that it's a good time to be away from work with layoffs hitting the financial markets pretty hard.

it's a bad habit of mine, but i checked my blackberry during lunch with my mom yesterday.

me: wow. looks like there are going to be a lot of layoffs on wall street this week. even at lehmans.
mom: whaaaaaa? neimans? who's going to make sure their yearly sale happens?

it's so nice to be home.

Would you immediately chop off your arm or take your chances?

Something unfortunate happened to me the other day.

A co-worker walked over to my desk and wanted to talk to me about his upcoming wedding. I swiveled around in my twirly chair to face him. He was standing up (looking down at me), I was sitting down (looking up at him). Ok, everyone have a visual?

Right then and there, God pressed the "slow mo" button on life. A foamy chunk of spittle gracefully arced out of my co-worker's mouth and headed straight to my face. Despite my frantic ducking and dodging, there was no escaping this heat seeking missle. It implanted itself in the worst possible place EVER: IN.MY.EYE.

I immediately slapped both hands over my left eye and exclaimed, "YOU SPIT IN MY EYE!!" *sound of chuckles across the trading floor*

OK, NORMAL.

THEN, I said, "Do you have any diseases?" *sound of awkward silence across the trading floor*

NORMAL???

Ok, ok, so I know I'm a bit of a hypochondriac. But I think it's because I grew up in the 80's where my greatest fear was to contract a blood borne disease. Like that nurse who accidentally dropped test tubes of blood plateles on her face and got AIDS. Or the story where a kid was stuck in the arm with a dirty syringe by a maniacal crazy person and died. I replayed this scene many times over and over in my head. If this happened to me, would immediately chop off my arm or take my chances?