Sometimes I sure wish that I was “normal” . . .

So I get up early as always to get out of the house before my kids wake up, and I was just gathering my things up to leave when my wife surprised me by coming down the stairs. I was kind of surprised at just how uncomfortable this made me. 

Years ago, when I first started going out into the big bad old world, she used to do my makeup for me, so it’s not like she has never seen me, but that was a long time ago, and to the best of my memory she hasn’t seen “Kim” in several years. The first thing she does when she hits the ground floor is to wave her hand in front of her nose.

“Too much perfume!” she said with a look of distaste on her face.

“Hey now! I used two spritz up into the air just like you taught me!” I laughed.

“Well maybe next time you should stick to one.” She said as she walked past me on the way to the coffee pot. That little interchange pretty much set the tone for the rest of my trip. . . .

So at 530AM, I am ready to head out, but since I know that my neighbor always goes to work at that time, I stood at the window waiting and watching his driveway.

“What are you waiting for?” my wife asked me.

“This is when Lee goes to work, so I’m waiting for him to leave.” I replied. She just kind of snickered her amusement at the situation. Ten minutes later I was still waiting though, and she spoke up again.

“You know, maybe he isn’t going to work today? If you are going to make your flight, you better just get on with it.”

“I guess you're right!” I told her, then gave her a hug and headed out to the truck with my bags. Of course the very second I got in my truck, my neighbor came out to leave, so I sat in the truck with the engine off and just waited until he headed out. I gave him a minute or two, then started my truck and headed off for the airport. That was when I realized that I had made another mistake – my route to the toll road is the same as his route to work, and I hadn’t thought about this until my truck was passing his truck. I drive an F150 – literally the most common vehicle on the road in Texas, so I doubt he would have realized that the “woman” driving by him was actually his neighbor, but I guess we’ll see when I get home!

As we were getting off of the plane in San Jose, I couldn’t help but notice that a guy sitting several seats ahead of me had a classic Mohawk, and the bare sides of his head was covered in blue/green tattoos shaped like scales. I tried to sneak a photo of him, but it just wasn’t feasible. 

Apparently seeing “Kim” again set my wife to thinking, because a few days into my trip she called and let me know how very unhappy she was about it all. She’s upset to see my things anywhere in the house or when she sees any of my clothes in the laundry, and she thinks that “Kim” is taking over our lives. By the end of the conversation I pretty much wanted to cry, because it seems that my choice is to either be miserable myself, or to make someone that I love miserable. On principles alone I will not go back into hiding myself or my things and I wont lie to her and tell her that I will stop when I know damned good and well that it is not something I can just give up. So I guess that I can try and give it all up, and pretty much hate my life, or I can keep making my wife of 24 years miserable.

Sometimes I sure wish that I was “normal” . . .

LOVE the bunny slippers

One of the first things that you learn when you move to central Texas is that allergy season here is pure hell. I’m not entirely sure why, I mean it’s not like the area is exactly covered in greenery and vegetation. Still, this time of the year it is not at all uncommon to walk out in the morning and find your car completely covered with a green coating of pollen and other allergens.  This was exactly the case when it came time to catch my flight to Detroit, and I was having a major allergy attack, with eyes bright red and swollen, tearing up, and my nose running like a faucet. Let’s just say that there was no way in hell that I was even gonna consider trying to fly there “pretty”. The trip home on the other hand . . . 

Given the unhappy results the last time that I took my bags up the escalator, I decided to use the elevators this time and try to avoid making a complete ass outta myself again. The first elevator was where the rental car bus drops you off, and then you walk across a bridge and take another elevator to get to the airline counters. When I entered the first elevator, a well-dressed man in a suit and tie followed me in. He took one look at me and started to grin.

“So, is this a weekend trip for you then?” he asked with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Not exactly!” I told him with a laugh.

After I crossed over the bridge and approached the next set of elevators, there were about five women standing there and discussing whether they should just take the escalator or wait for the elevator. I grinned, thinking of what had happened to me, and then entered the elevator when it arrived. In just a moment, the elevator was packed full as these women and their bags also entered.

“You made the right call in taking the elevator.” I told them all, and then proceeded to share the story of my little escalator mishap. As the elevator drew to a stop and the doors opened, all of the women were laughing as we exited.

It seems that Delta airlines is pretty much always a lot more expensive than US Airways, and so these days I am flying with US Airways a lot more than I used to. That kind of irritates me, because I really like Delta better – they have always been a lot friendlier, and unlike US Airways, Delta has never lost my luggage. In today’s economy though, I can’t possibly justify spending $600 more for flights just to use the airline that I prefer. I was pleasantly surprised as I checked in with the airline, because the woman behind the counter was genuinely friendly and helpful. Maybe it’s just the US Airways people in the Austin airport that are unfriendly? Tickets in hand, I made my way to a chair just outside of the TSA check point, where I stopped to take my laptop out of my bag and to remove my jewelry and stuff. While I was doing this, a young woman walked up to the chair next to me where she was also preparing for the security check point. I took one look at her shoes and busted out laughing, because she was wearing huge bunny slippers.

“LOVE your shoes!” I told her with a wink as she looked at me.

“Yeah, I didn’t get any sleep last night, so I figured I needed to be comfortable!” she told me with a frown.

“That’s cool! And here I thought that I was being brave!” I replied with a laugh.

Later on that afternoon I was sitting in the Charlotte airport waiting for my connecting flight when a tall woman came and sat down next to me. We sat there for a couple of hours because the plane was delayed, so she and I ended up chatting about this and that. Apparently we were both watching as an absolutely flawless woman was approaching the moving walkway wearing a tight and form fitting dress and four inch stiletto heels. She came to almost a complete stop at the entrance the walkway and then very carefully stepped onto it. I glanced at the woman next to me, who was about my own size and shape, and was gonna make a sarcastic comment about how it must be nice to be a perfect little size six, but she spoke first.

“I was just hoping that she was gonna bust her ass!” she told me with an evil grin.

I don’t know why we both thought this was hilarious, but we both laughed for quite a while about it . . .