Friday, September 11, 2009

Here, kvetch!

The last coupla days, I've had about as much energy and giddy-up as a 3 toed sloth. And I've had a hankering for the white cake with buttercream icing that my local Stater Bros supermarket sells by the slice. And I'm getting my panties in a twist over a rule change for work points in the racing series I'm involved in. What this all means is that Auntie Flo from Redlands should be arriving any day now via the Red Ball Express and the Crimson Tide is rolling in. How many more euphemisms can I use to say that I've got a raging case of PMS?

I suppose I should be thankful that I haven't started menopause yet but every time I hear that commercial where they tell you to "Have a Happy Period" I want to pop a cap into whoever came up with that slogan. The only time someone should be happy to get their period is when it shows up after having drunken unprotected sex with some random nameless hook-up. You know the fucknuckle who came up with THAT slogan is a man who has NEVER experienced the cramps, bloating, 'roid-like rage and all the other fun stuff that comes with it. It's not called, "The Curse" because it makes women feel happy. Unless of course it comes after having the unprotected drunken sex in which case we aren't so much as "happy" as we are thinking, "Oh, thank GOD I'm not knocked up!"

So. Anyways. Today is the anniversary of 9-11. A day that will live on in infamy. Just like when JFK was shot and when Michael Jackson died, everyone remembers where they were on September 11, 2001. I was sound asleep in bed when the phone rang. A friend was babbling that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center so I got up and turned on the TV, just in time to see the second jetliner hit. I was glued to the TV, watching in horror as people started jumping to their deaths instead of waiting to burn to death when they realized they weren't getting out alive. I'm getting goosebumps just remembering.

One of the things that made the most impression on me during that awful time was when all flights were grounded. Living in the flight path of LAX, Long Beach airport and the military air station in Los Alamitos, I'm used to hearing every aircraft from small private planes to helicopters to 747's to F-18's. The silence was deafening.

Eight years later, I just noticed that I haven't heard any aircraft for the last couple of hours. I don't know if this is because there just aren't any flights at the moment heading into Long Beach which is a FABULOUS airport to fly in and out of by the way or if I just tune them out or what. It just seems kind of weird I don't hear any of the billion JetBlue flights that fly past my house daily. Huh. Odd.

Ok, I gotta go get some Stater Bros supermarket white cake with buttercream icing.

God Bless America!

1 comment:

  1. Note to self: DO NOT poke the bear this weekend. Bring sugar.