Friday, April 30, 2010

The Chokey

(My Ellington bag covers hunchie quite well.)

Today I felt like an expectant mother. I had "nesting" going on, and I am not even pregnant...unless you count hunchie. (which I guess I do).
After I woke up, I hobbled downstairs to my basement.
The basement has a furnace room. We call the furnace room the "chokey"
I decided the chokey needed to be cleaned out.
So I did that.
And now I have a pile ready for DI or Lucy-whichever comes first.
As I was cleaning I was thinking about my recent trip to Arizona, Dr. L., my in-laws, the weather, and LGO. Then I started thinking from the moment Mr. Nielson and I rented our car we listened to Pink. Pretty much every radio station played her. As a result, I have decided to make Dr. L. a play-list of the songs I want him to listen to in the OR while fixing me.
Pink will be on that play-list, I can just see it now- Nie laying lifeless on the table and So What kicking in the back ground.
Then I thought about the time I went into LGO and my big, beautiful, yellow Ellington bag hit a pot with a desert plant nestled in. It fell over. It broke into a million pieces.
I couldn't decided what to do. Run, cry, admit, raise my hand? What?
Instead I looked for Mr. Nielson. Easy button.
They cleaned it all up for me and were very nice telling me over and over that "It happens all the time"
(Mr. Nielson devouring LGO)
As I piled pillows into my chokey "pile" I thought about teasing Mr. Nielson that I hated going through all the security junk and the worst part for me is taking off my shoes.
Then I smell it.
The smell of stinky feet. Its awful (but I am sure glad we are safe, no really I am).
I told Mr. Nielson very matter-of-fact that I really think he should get his own pilots license so we could just skip all this junk. Then we laughed. (yes, I can joke about it now).
Then I remembered that I got pulled aside because they suspected me of having C-4 in my bag. Like I'd blow up a plane. That already happened to me and it was crap. I'd never do it again.
Then the TSA lady kept telling me how much she hated matches.
She went on and on and at the end, all I could say was-
"Me too" because I a lot.
And that was all.
Oh, and its the last day of April.