Terrorist name: Gusher

Sorry I've been away so long! I got a few good scoldings this week for not posting, but I've been away recovering from Deena's snub. I have many things to post about, but first let's talk about Texas. I have never seen a state more proud of itself than Texas.

Seriously, all the local businesses have "Texas" in the name and use the star or outline of the state in their logo. Even the waffles at our hotel were Texased.


See? Texans also have a penchant for using the letter K where it does not belong, ie Ken's Kwik Stop and Kammy's Kountry Kitchen. One of my pet peeves. But I digress.

One thing that Texas does have going for it is that my sister and her husband (and soon to be niece) live there. So I made the trek a few weeks ago to visit. We had a great time, but that's not what this post is really about.

The truth is that I think I might be on a government watch list. I guess I was kind of suspicious looking, showing up at an airport without any carry on luggage. I mulled this over while packing for my trip. I knew I had a layover in Houston both ways, and I really didn't want to be lugging any extra stuff around between flights. All I really needed was a book, and that would fit in my purse.

I've been on a few flights before, and no airline has ever lost my luggage. Plus, I was flying Southwest, and they love bags! They would be the last people to lose my luggage. So I decided against a carry on bag. A decision that would come to haunt me a few hours later.

At the airport, I was waiting in line to board the plane when I noticed a security officer looking me up and down from across the waiting area. He spoke into his walkie talkie and then headed my way. Of course I was nervous. He asked me to step out of line and come with him. He then asked if he could look in my purse. There was a lot of stuff in there. He helped himself to all of it. I guess he finally decided I didn't have any bombs in there and reluctantly allowed me to board the airplane. It was kinda embarrassing. After they let me get back in line, the guy who was standing behind me remarked, "I didn't think you looked like a terrorist."

I thanked him for his vote of confidence.

I made it safely to Houston, and after my layover and another bag inspection while waiting to board (I kid you not) I was on the plane waiting to take off for Midland. I had a window seat this time, interestingly enough sitting next to a woman wearing one of those white masks. You know the kind you see people wearing while they mow their grass? I don't know if she had been doing yard work earlier that day or just didn't want to breathe any of my recycled air, but either way we didn't speak. Which gave me ample time to gaze out the window and watch the man toss our bags into the plane.

It was reminiscent of the Southwest commercial where the guys load up the bags and then wave goodbye while wiping away tears. "I'm really gonna miss those bags." I halfway expected him to wave after he finished loading, but he didn't. I know because I was watching him drive away. I didn't see him wave, but I did notice two lonely bags pushed to the side of a cart left on the runway next to our plane. He forgot to load two bags. And one of them was suspiciously similar to mine.





I realize it's hard to see in this photo, but that is a red suitcase with a hot pink tag on the handle. I had a very clear view of it from my window seat. I began to panic. The baggage man was gone, and we were cleared for takeoff. I snapped this photo for evidence and emailed it to Meredith with this message, "On my way to Midland. God help Southwest if that is my bag sitting on the runway."

I didn't know what to do. I thought about flagging down a stewardess and mentioning it to her. How much trouble would it be to page a baggage worker to just double check that bag and make sure it wasn't mine? What if I held up the already delayed flight for them to look at that bag and then they determined it wasn't mine? Then I would really be embarrassed. After my terrorist scare, I wasn't up for any more attention. A lot of bags look like mine. It's a very common suitcase. And all of the transfer bags have hot pink tags on them. Right? I decided to keep my mouth shut.

And then we started moving. I was sure I would arrive in Midland sans luggage, and I was kicking myself for not saying anything AND for not at least packing a change of clothes in a carry on bag.

Wow I have told a long story, and now I'm tempted to lie and say that it was indeed my bag on the runway. It was not. My luggage was waiting for me in Midland, and I took back all the bad things I said to myself on the flight about Southwest not really loving bags.

The return trip was almost as eventful and began when Meredith dropped me off at the Midland airport Sunday afternoon. Meredith had packed me all sorts of goodies for my long trip back to Mississippi: fruit roll up, fruit by the foot and Gushers, the delicious candy with a liquid center! I was looking forward to enjoying something other than peanuts on my flights that night.

I went through security without setting off the metal detectors, but my purse did not pass the xray scan. The lady examining the bags frowned and pointed at the screen to something suspicious. So the security man took me aside and looked disapprovingly at my purse.

Security Man: Do you have any weapons in here?

I resisted the urge to make a joke about how I usually carried a grenade launcher because he didn't look like the type of person who enjoyed laughing.

Me: No sir.

Security Man: Nothing in there that's going to hurt me if I go through it?

Seriously? Again, no.

So he begins the process of inspecting every item in my purse and finally pulls out a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer.

"WHAT'S THIS????"

Hand sanitizer, sir.

He scrutinized it for a while, then let me slide on that one, surprisingly enough. Then he hit paydirt. The packet of Gushers. He pulled them out and slowly inspected the packaging.

Security Man: "Gushers, huh?"

My face turned red. What was I, five?? Foiled by the delicious liquid center. I tried to explain that my sister had packed them for me but ended up feeling even more foolish for trying to defend the gushers.

Security Man: "That must've been what she spotted on the screen."

He actually smiled at this point, obviously feeling my pain.

"Well, it looks like everything is in order here, and you got your gushers, so have a nice flight."

He winked at me, threw the gushers back into my purse, and let me go on my way. I was sorry I passed on the grenade launcher joke.

On the flight, a steward asked me if I would like a drink. I asked for a Long Island, because I really felt like I needed one, and he looked first confused, then concerned, then apologetic. "I don't think we have that, ma'am. I'm sorry. Can I get you something else?"

"That's ok," I told him. "I got my gushers." And I enjoyed every last drop of my liquid contraband.

ATTENTION DEENA

If your name is not Deena Shelton, this post is not for you. I know this is kind of unorthodox, but it's my blog and I'll do what I want to.

Deena! I saw your comment on my last post, and I was thrilled to hear from you! However, when I clicked your name, I was dismayed to see that I could not contact you unless I had a facebook page.

I'm a total loser and therefore do not have a facebook page. So can we compromise with email? I'd love to catch up with you. What has it been? 8 years? I'm at redwoodemily@hotmail.com

For the rest of you who are still reading, shame on you, reading another person's personal message. While you should definitely be ashamed of yourself, you are also excited, because now you have my email address. Exciting, isn't it? But you should know that this particular email address is my spam catcher.

I have another, super secretive email address that I will give to you if you can prove yourself real. I will only need your name, address, social security number, mother's maiden name, a copy of your passport and the name of your favorite childhood pet. Also a credit card number. Email me with those few items, and I will send you my non-spam catching email address.

Looking forward to hearing from you!

SB said:

We went to the bank a few weeks ago, and SB has learned that the tellers will often give her a sucker if they notice her in the backseat. She was of course yelling for a sucker, and the kind man behind the glass was happy to oblige. He asked which color she would like, and SB said "blue." Dum Dums make blue raspberry and cotton candy suckers, both of which are blue. So he sent her one of each. As we were driving away, Jack made the discovery and said,

"SB! He sent you TWO suckers!"

SB said, "Two suckers??? He's a good man!"


A few days ago, I was getting dressed, and SB was anxiously waiting as she hopped back and forth on each leg. She knew we were going to Wal Mart, and that usually involves a ride on the horsey. I finally finished getting ready, and SB exclaimed,

"Looking goooooood, mama. Looking GOOD! Now let's rock and roll!"

She has also been telling us that she wants a baby brother and a baby sister. If she gets a baby brother, she will name him Tiny Tim. We have been talking a lot about my sister's pregnancy and how baby Madeleine lives in Aunt Meredith's tummy. SB has been taking it all in. When Jack arrived home from work last night, SB met him at the door and announced,

"Daddy! I have a baby in my tummy!"

Jack paused and then said to me, "Well, I've been wondering how I would react if SB ever told me that. I think I handled it quite well."

SB also likes to tell people that she is "getting a baby."

I have one more story, and although it didn't come from SB, I think it is still worth sharing. This one is from my six-year-old niece, Mary. Her grandmother asked her if she knew what Easter was, and after much thought she answered, "I think so. Isn't that when God created the Easter Bunny?"

And finally, I have a quick update on my recent post about my experience with the county clerk while trying to get a new license plate sticker. In case you missed it, you can read it here:

http://emilyredwood.blogspot.com/2010/02/ill-be-helpful-when-im-dead.html

Last week, someone from that office called BOTH of my parents SEPARATELY in order to verify MY recent address change.

What's a girl gotta do to get a banana popsicle in this town?

We are officially sick of being sick. For the last 2 weeks we have had fever and colds, a double ear infection and 2 rounds of the stomach bug. Also I accidentally got SB high off children's cold medicine in a minor misread of the dosage instructions. I plead sleeplessness.

It all started 2 Sundays ago when SB started running fever at bedtime. Not a big deal, except with it came some serious sinus congestion that was so severe, she couldn't even breathe while sleeping. When given the choice between taking in air and taking in Z's, she chose the former. So between giving her fever medication and sucking out her nose, wiping it clean and coating it with vaseline, I didn't get much sleep either. By Thursday, she was so pitiful and I was so exhausted, I finally caved and took her to the doctor.

I absolutely love SB's pediatrician, but I would rather have forks jabbed in my ear while watching reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond than spend the day in the doc's waiting room with a room full of snotty kids and oblivious parents who are too busy tuning out the same old Barney episode that is blaring from the grainy television to notice their kids dripping mucus all over my kid, who I am desperately trying to protect from everyone else's germs. So I tried to make an appointment.

My one o'clock appointment turned into a three hour wait to see the LPN, who told me that the swab they so savagely dug out of SB's nasal cavities were negative for the flu virus, but she still thought SB might have the flu. I was so glad they subjected us to (and charged us for) that useless test. I was too worn out to put up much of a fight when she also told me after a quick peek in SB's ears that a double ear infection was also on the menu for the day and maybe a shot might be in order.

First of all, how do these people even diagnose an ear infection? They look in her ears and say, "Oh, it's red in there. Must be infected. Here is an antibiotic." Secondly, if she already has the flu, why are we getting a shot now? I wasn't convinced she had the flu, neither was I totally sold on the idea of a double ear infection, but I'm not the MD here. I'm sorry, I mean LPN. I also was not totally coherent at the time, and I probably would have bought magic beans from the lady had she told me they would make everything all right. So we did what they told us to do and bought all the medicine they prescribed and gave everything according to the dosage.

Well, almost according to the dosage. I accidentally quadrupled her cold medicine, resulting in a long night of worrying about brain damage while I tried to tame my drunken 2-year-old. In a panic, I called my pharmacist brother and probably woke him up to tell him what I'd done. After he laughed at me and called me an idiot (he loves me so very much) he told me not to worry but not to do anything so stupid ever again. We survived the night, in case you are wondering. She slept off her buzz and was able to recite her ABC's close enough the next morning to assure me that she had no permanent brain damage.

I'm not sure if it was the antibiotic or the stomach bug that had been passing through the families of all of our friends, but just as the congestion was clearing up, SB got a bad case of diarrhea that lasted for about 4 days. Thank the Lord that by that time, I had caught SB's cold. I have never been so thankful for a clogged sniffer.

We finally cleared the diarrhea stage, and my cold finally seemed to be subsiding. We were feeling better for the weekend and were looking forward to the sunshine that had been forecasted. My cousin and her husband were planning to come take in some baseball with us, and my brother was kind enough to share some tickets for the Saturday game.

We had dinner Friday night with Jack's grandparents, and I promptly left my purse at their house. We were halfway home on the 30 minute drive when I realized the error. Did I mention the baseball tickets for the next day were in there? We decided against turning around since SB was already way past her bedtime and already whining about something. Thank God we didn't turn around because as we turned into our neighborhood, SB let loose with a geyser of vomit that would have made Old Faithful spew green with envy.

I think that night was the longest of my life. Jack and I split cleaning duties. Between the car, the carseat, SB's clothes, blanket, bunny and SB herself, we spent a good hour cleaning the first burst before the second one came. On a related note, if anyone has any tips on how to rid a car of vomity smell, please email me at redwoodemily@hotmail.com.

I offered to take the night shift, since one of us was going to have to get some sleep in order to take care of SB the next day. I sat up in the hallway outside her room until midnight and was able to figure out that SB started coughing just a few seconds before each puke was coming. She threw up every hour like clockwork until about 2 am, then about every 30 minutes until 4. Jack mercifully took over after that.

After cleaning up throw up all night, I felt like I was ready to heave ho myself the next day. I stayed in bed and took an anti-nausea pill that knocked me out. I never did Benock (throw up), but I wished all day that I could so I would feel better.

Jack spent the whole day taking care of me and SB. After we went to bed, Jack cleaned the whole upstairs: dusting, vacuuming, dishes, laundry. He is the best. Also, Mary Beth brought me a banana popsicle, and her kindness healed me. She had to scour the town and almost gave up when she spotted a box of variety popsicles that included banana. Why doesn't anyone sell banana pops anymore??

Anyway, we are all better over here now. At least, we seem to be that way. Hang out with us at your own risk.

Jeffrey Osbourne and his Wings of Love

Ok I wouldn't normally post about this, but I have to admit I got sucked in by ABC's sensitive pilot "good guy," and I have been flying high on the wings of love all season. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, just stop reading now. For the rest of you who were with me glued to the tv screen every Monday night (or Tuesday morning for the tivo fans), let's talk bachelor.

I'm not going to recap the whole season, but let's face it, Jake was quite a disappointment. Sure, who wouldn't want a sensitive, caring pilot who could whisk you away to some exotic Caribbean island on a whim? He's nice looking, sweet, and he "leads with his heart," as he told us oh so many times. Oh wait, did I mention that he has tear ducts that rival Niagara Falls? Yeah. Not cool, Jake. Not cool. No woman wants a man that cries more than she does. Also, he's a pilot, but he is afraid of heights. (Remember the sob fest that ensued when he was about to bungee jump?)

All that aside, I was still engrossed for the entire season. And last night was the first time I watched in real time. I typically let the DVR record it for me, then I can fast forward through all the recaps, commercials and crying. But Jack was gone last night, and I had nothing else to do from 7-10, so I suffered through the entire episode.

After his parents fell in love with Tenley, Jake brought in Vienna, and boy were they unimpressed. He has not been very good at hiding his emotions (cue the tears), and his feelings toward both the finalists were no exception. He obviously liked V way more than Ten. But his family's opinion is everything to him!!! Also, we now get to find out where Jake gets his tear ducts from, as his father was crying most of the time.

After V's extremely awkward visit with the folks, during which she insulted Jake's sister in law by telling her she was a little it fat, and told them that Jake was ok but not that great, the producers wrote out a script for his family to read: "After getting to know her, I like Vienna." They all said that to the camera, and Jake was relieved that since he had his family's approval, he could now choose Vienna to join him on the wings of love.

However, he was under contract to act like he was torn between both girls until the final rose ceremony, so ABC ramped up the drama.

Jake picked out two rings, named them, spent some time with them and let them speak to him.

Jake: I just don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know if my heart can live with the decision I have to make. This is just so hard. Journey and connections. I've made my decision, and I KNOW that I've made the right choice.

That was quick. So he dumps Ten (no surprise there, unless you are Tenley), and then she makes it really hard for him to get rid of her so he can make out with V. Oh yeah, and he cries. His heart is just hurting bc he loves Ten so much, but he really wants to make out with V some more. He finally extricates himself from Ten's grasp, with a little help from the producers and the ABC bouncer, then runs for the balcony for the agony shot. As the helicoptered camera zooms away from Jake's distraught face, he hangs over the balcony for the contract-required 15 seconds and covers his face with his hands. And he cries (which he was not under contract to do).

Five minutes after the heartbreak of his life.........well, second heartbreak of his life, he is ready to propose to the woman of his dreams: A cross-eyed hooters waitress with a bad bleach job and fake you know whats, who has an extremely uncomfortable relationship with her father. First Jake gives her back the "I promise not to elope again" ring that her father gave her after she ran off with and then divorced her teenaged boyfriend, and then a close up of the Neil Lane engagement ring, and then together they fly high on the wings of love, a la Jeffrey Osbourne. Haven't we heard this song somewhere before? And Jake cries.

Immediately after the teary proposal, ABC takes us to the studio where Jake and V are finally reunited. But first Jake has to confront Ten, the poor sweet girl he shoved off his wings of love. She didn't make it easy for him (again) and wouldn't let go of the fact that he just wasn't attracted to her. She really wanted him to say it, but he skirted around it pretty well. With a few well-placed tears. Again, the producers and the ABC bouncer were called in during the commercial break to extricate Tenley from the set so V could come out and show off her ring and show how funny and sweet she was. Jake and V talked about how happy they were and then ABC had a big surprise for them:

A special guest was in the studio! And he was going to sing just for them! How romantical.

So ABC brought out Jeffrey Osbourne to sing "On the Wings of Love" to Jake and V while they danced on the stage and the audience quietly reached for their studio provided barf bags. Turns out Jeffrey Osbourne is a skinny old black man, not the pudgy teenage son of Sharon and Ozzy. Who knew?

After the song, they went back to commercial so the audience could clean the vomit off their shirts and Jake could clean the Vienna off his face.

Then they announced the new Bachelorette. Shocker alert: it's Ali. And she wants 50 guys instead of 25. Chris Harrison told her not to be so greedy. She made a pouty face.

It's gonna be a good season. Who wants to help me keep a pouty face count??

Also, I missed Jake on Good Morning America today, but he is definitely a Dancing with the Stars contestant this season. I've never cared about that show, and I certainly won't start now. I did, however, catch Kate Gosselin on the segment right after Jake, and she is going to be on Dancing also. She was live via satellite with her hot dancing partner, and it looks like she's over John! They were goo goo eyes all over each other and it was weird. Until the hot dancing partner gave a shout out to his wife. Then it was more weird.

But I digress. That's all I have for today. I hope you've enjoyed the wings of love as much as I have.

In an effort to prevent spam...

You will now have to complete the word verification process to leave a comment on my blog. Don't worry. It is quick and painless!

I've made a huge mistake

Apparently by blasting the investing scam people two posts below, I have opened myself up to a whole host of blog comment spam. Anyone know how to stop this? Do I just have to disallow anonymous comments? I really don't want to have to verify each comment before it appears on here. Any tips?

I'll be helpful when I'm dead

Ahhh, the industrious nature of city workers. Just puts a smile on my face and a page on my blog.

I recently made a jaunt to the local courthouse to update my expired license plate sticker. A few jaunts, to be exact. On the fourth attempt, I was finally successful.

The following excerpt is a transcript of an actual encounter between myself and a city employee, hereafter referred to as CE. It has been edited for time, content and obscene language.

ME: Hi, I'd like to get a new sticker for my license plate please.
CE: License plate number.
ME: My license plate number, yes. Here it is.
CE: This be expired.
ME: Yes, ma'am. I'd like to renew it.

At this point, she verifies my address. She gives me the address we had 3 years ago. I have updated it every year since we moved, because obviously I have renewed my license plate every year. But they still haven't gotten it right. So we fixed that (again).

Then she says the car is registered under my dad's name and is that correct? Again, the car has been in my name since 2006, when we finished paying it off. But whatever, they've been busy. I tell her the car is mine and should be in my name, and I guess I look like a dirty, rotten liar and thief, because she says she needs to see the title before she can make that change and renew my license plate. Whatever. The next day I return with the title.

We run through the license plate number, and again she makes the startling yet flat declaration, "This be expired."
ME: Yes, ma'am. I need a new sticker.
CE: Address?

I give her our address. She frowns as she studies the screen.

CE: That ain't what this says.
ME: Really? That's interesting because I just gave it to you yesterday. What do your records say?

She reads me our old address and looks at me as if to say, "quit playin'. who you tryin' to fool?"

ME: That is our OLD address. Our NEW address, the one I gave you yesterday is the correct one. Would you mind changing it in your records please?
CE: Ok, Ms. Murphy--

At this point, we almost get into an argument about what my name is NOW versus what is used to be before I was married. I present the car title, which is in MY name, my current name, signed over to me by my father. She studies it for a minute and frowns while tapping her extra long neon orange fingernail on the counter.

CE: This say 2006.
ME: Yes, it does.

Very good, she can read.

CE: It 2010.
ME: Yes it is.

Very good, she knows what year it be.

CE: Well, then you behind.

I'm very confused at this point. She proceeds to explain to me that since the car has been mine since 2006, I owe a lot of back payments or taxes or renewal fees or whatever from 2006 to 2010. I should have registered the car as mine in 2006, when it became mine. I told her that I had indeed done that and remembered bringing the title to her office in previous years due to similar situations to the one we were in now. She didn't believe me.

Funny, I asked her, if I never registered the car as mine, how the heck did she think I got a renewal sticker on my license plate every year since then until now? She didn't know. I had a pretty good idea and wanted to tell her so, but I managed to somehow keep my tongue in check.

It was going to cost a lot more than I was prepared to pay in order to get the fees up to date, and I certainly didn't think that their incompetence should cost me any more than I had already paid. So I left before the situation escalated.

I needed some time to cool off and a stiff drink to help me unwind.

Thankfully, the stars aligned for me and someone else was on duty when I went back the next day. I can only assume that the woman I had spoken with previously was either having her nails relaquered or had been promoted. However, God smiled on me this day and a nice, cheerful, well-dressed woman made a helpful suggestion: Change the date on the car title to today's date. No late payments necessary! But of course I would have to get some paperwork notorized in order to change the date.

SO a quick trip to my dad's office to pick him up, then to the bank to get our signatures notarized, then back to the courthouse to present all the necessary documents. Just one last thing that she needed before we could finalize the process....my current address. Which still wasn't correct in their computer system. Lord have mercy.