Monthly Archives: May 2010

Hello from Denmark!


They say traveling will really teach you a lot about yourself.  So far I’m learned that going 60 hours with no sleep and adding two cocktails to the mix will create a very interesting VJ.

Other things I’ve learned include:

87% of this planet’s attractive men are currently in the Brussels airport right now.  In a suit.  Just standing around.  I had to sprint through to make my connection, and I’ve never wanted to stay and improve international relations anyplace more.

60% of those men appear to have been on their way to Copenhagen.  I think I’m going to like it here.

Also?  Danish nachos are AWESOME.

Danish nachos are delicious

Poor me.


Here’s a picture of me waiting to pick up my passport.  As you might be able to see, I was full of The Whine.  This was day two of getting up at an hour that I’m not I’m not exaggerating when I call ungodly.  I actually think God disapproves of four am.  And driving to LA.  LA, the only place on earth you can hit traffic before the sun rises.  Two days of the most creative arrangement of lines, and one very persistant and well-dressed crazy man who kept wanting to lay hands on me and pray.  (I told him only men significantly more or significantly less religious are allowed to do that.)  Airport-like security checks at a door I was required to go in and out of repeatedly to find the next line to stand in.

Bethany came home from work to find me sprawled out on the couch, and as she set down her briefcase and gym bag she listened to my tale of first world woe.  She offered to get me a beer and then made me mac and cheese.  And it struck me how fucking spoiled I am.

There are people waiting days in line for food, instead of a passport, and arguably one of the most coveted types of passports.  There are so many people without the time or resources to travel.  And very few people have a sister in law who’d baby them after a long day at work.

I feel so old.


You know what I just did?

I had to tell the teenage neighbor kids that they couldn’t skateboard in our driveway. I had to use phrases like “homeowner’s insurance” and “liability in case of injury.” I acknowledged that these words probably meant nothing to them and that I was sorry.

But does it matter?

I’m the crochety old lady who won’t let them skate, man.

I knew as I said the words that I’d become the sort of square they were going to make fun of as soon as I walked away. And since I had to play my role, I decided to do it well. I decided to give ’em something to really work with when they mocked me later, because honestly? In my heart I’m still on their side.

“And you’re scaring my cat, with all the noise.”

*sigh* You’re welcome, kiddos. Keep fightin’t The Man.