Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Yea, yea, thank you and crap

I seem to be behind the curve on this Thanksgiving stuff. Neglecting to write a long and heartfelt post before the scheduled holiday, spilling adoration and gratitude for have's and shelving the have not's. Peeling off my crusty exterior to expose raw, pink flesh of tenderness and veneration. Oops, guess I fucked that one up.

This does not mean however that I am not eternally grateful for many things and more importantly, certain people in my life. Therefore, I will mention some of them now. Not everything, but a few that are at the forefront of my mind and warrant attention. But not before I spew a little venom about my travels last weekend because this shit builds up you know? So just hold your horses.

I had the pleasure of wonderful company in San Francisco over the Thanksgiving weekend and still have a perma-smile on my face for being the luckiest Princess on the planet. I spent some quality time with my best friend in the gayborhood and, not enough for my liking, stupendous snogging with the sexiest man in the hemisphere. (These are 2 different people by the way). Unfortunately, the best way to get to Northern Cal from my home in Southern Cal is to fly. Flying is bad. Bad flying, bad.

I hate, loath, detest with a burning passion to the bottom of my bitter little soul, airplanes. As far as I'm concerned, all airliners are flying tubes of death. Scares the living piss out of me. And please spare me your condescending lectures of how flying in a plane is safer then driving in a car, yada yada, blah blah, suck me. Being trapped in a germ-infested metal tomb hurtling at 500 blinding miles an hour, 40 thousand feet above the earth, is not my idea of a good time. I'd rather have a pap smear by Edward Scissorhands. And can pilots please spare me these fucking details so I can pretend to have a grip over my panic-attack ass? Just put that microphone down Slappy, I DON'T WANT TO KNOW.

And I was so ready to get frisked coming and going and not a boob bounced by anyone! I have the current terrorist-list warning of huge boobs and everything. I was so robbed.

If the entire airport experience these days isn't a bucket-o-fun enough, you have to share close, intimate space with a large percentage of the world's circus freaks. It's like a constant Ringling Brother's convention in these places. Mouth breathers, screaming babies, drooling perverts, snobs, and IQ challenged chatter boxes.

My baby mentioned recently that a certain vernacular is quite popular in his area south of Frisco and he's had to restrain himself from planting a well-worn shoe up many an ass as it drives him nuts. I was perplexed at this phenomenon since it hasn't infiltrated San Diego, or else it passed through years ago without notice. I could hardly believe that there were throngs of people still using the phrase "hella", but damn if he wasn't right.

While waiting for my flight home in Oakland, and after a gaggle of travelers hauled their tryptophan laden butts to our "new" gate assignment, I found myself sitting next to two young San Diego State students from the bay area returning to school. Both of them had spent the weekend being spoiled by their rich parents and I was forced to listen to, I shit you not, Katherine Mary Gallagher OMG-My-Name-Is-Almost-Exactly-Like-That-Saturday-Night -Live-Character, talk shop and dating with her big studly has-no-interest-in-ever-fucking-you-Katherine friend-boy Ashley, named after some character in Gone With The Wind but neither were very sure if it was true because they had no idea if there really was someone in that movie with that name but it was HELLA COOL ANYWAY.

And it would be HELLA cool to party back at school although people in San Diego aren't "real" and the bay area is HELLA better and the shopping over the weekend was HELLA cool and their parents bought them a HELLA lotta shit at the mall and the food was HELLA good and they ate HELLA too much sugar and his new girlfriend is HELLA alright and Katherine thought that was HELLA cool too. And they bragged incessantly about putting their luggage at the front of the HELLA lines while sitting their lazy asses in the chairs and it was a HELLA good idea and everyone else who didn't do that was HELLA stupid and that's when I almost told them to shut their fucking pieholes or I'd HELLA kick their illiterate HELLA self-important asses or at least smash my HELLA big swollen foot over the top of her bejeweled pedicured exposed-in-flip-flops-in-50-degree weather toes. Now that would be HELLA cool.

Just when I thought I could kick her and nail apathetic stud-boy in the head with my backpack, they called for our flight and I was absolved of their HELLA presence for ever more. It was a sad day when I realized I couldn't stomach teenagers, and now I apparently can't share personal space with those under 25. I'm not excluding entire generations, but jesus, some of these young people. And you kids get off my lawn!!

Despite my wayfaring woes, I had a fan-fucking-tastic weekend. It was, as they always are, too short, but I spent Turkey Day with new friends who fed me like the Princess I am and showered me with compliments. If I wasn't such a bitch I would have blushed. Instead it made me feel great, which is always nice. And I shared a bajillion laughs with my best friend who loves me and I love him and he calms my stormy soul just by being in my general vicinity.

But the best of the best was getting to see the man who blows my dress up, makes my naughty parts tingle, gives my brain the big "O", and is by far the best kisser to ever put their lips on mine. He made me laugh a million times, he earned a few smacks upside his freshly shaved velveteen noggin (that I couldn't keep my hands or cleavage off of) for that smart-ass wit of his, and made me feel loved and safe with every caress. For all of these things, and for surviving another trek in the skies, I am very thankful.

9 comments:

whitey said...

Tuesday? I've been checking dammit and weren't nothin' here til now!

Words fail me, so I'm flashing my best boyish smile. Thanks darlin'. I love you best.

Lisa said...

whitey wasn't lying...you are a fantastic writer.
and it's fun to hear the girl's side of it...cuz the rays of love poke out from every gap in him, but he has refrained from gushing... yay for love!

Anonymous said...

You're a WICKED good writer!

(A so-called Tour'a Duty in New England.)

I read you earlier and linked you, cos you're a wick-, hell-, helluva good writer, but I'm commenting now to protect the lives of my unborn from whitey's wrath.

Anyway, I'll be reading you.

lisa (ethernautrix)

Anonymous said...

You're a WICKED good writer!

(A so-called Tour'a Duty in New England.)

I read you earlier and linked you, cos you're a wick-, hell-, helluvalot a good writer, but I'm commenting now to protect the lives of my unborn from whitey's wrath.

Anyway, I'll be reading you.

lisa (ethernautrix)

Anonymous said...

FUCK!

I hit the STOP button when I saw "helluvalot" instead of "helluva" - and maybe that's self-explanatory - and thought I'd saved myself from typo embarrassment but NO!

FUCK.

I suck at commenting.

Anonymous...heh, who else?

Edge said...

Hella will pass as will "my bad" and as did "don't go there" and so many other trendy utterances. But the indroduction of the word "like" into every other sentence? Like fuck, cock your ear toward a conversation these days and just listen for it, count em. There are like so fucking many you can't even like keep up. That John Wayne movie "Flying Hellacats" must be like your worst nightmare.

magz said...

or galpal. or 'yew go... girrlfren..' ack. bleech. euwww.
howdy princess, pleased ta meetcha... i guess i sorta feel like whitey's cyber-ma. glad ya stepped out and laid it down fer me to find... i'm alinkin ya now... so there. You dun me a rightous big favor keepin his bod and heart happy, cuase his branes keep me happy, and 'mused. thank you... yer cyber ma-in-law, maggie

Anonymous said...

Wife...I'm glad you had a good time and I loved reading about it. You are, and have always been, a remarkable woman and I am thankful for you.
...Husband

Bitter Betty said...

whitey - love you like crazy baby.

lisa - thanks for the kind words. I don't gush often, but how can I not about whitey? And I'll link you right back as soon as I figure out how this bitch works.

edge - I've been privy to the "like" phenomenon. It's like, really, like annoying.

magz - thanks for stopping by. Hanging with whitey is my pleasure. Believe me.

husband - love you forever and ever. Your wife.