i wonder how can i live on, when you want to bury my passion. you are the shell that surrounds me that i cannot escape, so instead i swallow my pride.

what the shit?
--travel edition--

1. this ban on anything liquid or gel-like being in the cabin area of the planes is such a fucking crock of shit...and i'm not saying that just because i think it's complete and utter bullshit that people will forgo their freedom for some insane notion of what entitlements their civil liberties give them and through that will completely forgo racial profiling and placing circumspect sects of people under the proverbial microscope just so they can labor under this blatant misconception of freedom. i'm saying it because i am on the national watch list...why? my last name starts with the letter "i" which also happens to be the letter most arabic last names start with...so even though my last name is blatantly eastern european, i get lumped in with the "politically correct" means of safety.

fine, i'm on the list and i get the oh-so "random" check every fucking time i have to go through security (this includes when i have to re-check bags for a connection after an international flight...i get it when i re-check my luggage, and when i go through security). so, everytime i fly i get pulled aside and everything i packed gets unpacked and looked at...and just to put this annoyance into perspective: i fly at least once a month.

i did, in fact, put all of the no-no shit in my suitcase that i checked and pretty much only had a tube of lipgloss, eyeliner, and bandaids in my purse...and guess what? they took each and every one away. lipgloss? gone. eyeliner? in the garbage. bandaids? trash. hand sanitizer? i almost cried as they threw it away and i was now unleashed in an airport with nothing but shitty disgusting soap to keep me clean. how did they know i even had these "contraband" items? because they pulled me aside and went through everything i own. meanwhile, while i'm getting strip searched and my bags are being torn apart..the african american woman behind me who was dressed in a full burka walked right on through.

yup...the system is so working, isn't it? the white, mid-twenties, caucasion, jewish girl is getting searched while the islamic woman walks right on through without even being asked a question.

happy facists liberals?

2. i really have no fucking idea why they took my bandaids away. what am i going to do? take down the plane one sterile bandage at a time? stand there in the aisle waving a bandage in the air and say "nobody move! or i'll put it over the captains eyes"? i was wearing new shoes and took the bandaids so i could put them on my heels if the shoes started to hurt...and guess what? they did start to hurt. and guess what? the bitches took my bandaids away. and guess what? the back of my heels are beyond fucking tore up. i passed "blister" and went straight to bleeding. seriously, my heels were bleeding and pieces of my skin that were ripped up by the backs of my shoes were hanging. even my doctor brother looked at my heels and kind of cringed--that is how you know it's super bad. but! it's nice to know our country is protected from terrorist plots involving dressing-wounds. i sleep better at night...really...

3. adding to the fun of my bleeding heels, sleeping on an air mattress has fucked up my back and hips so bad, i can't really walk. i can't really sit, lie down, or kneel either...because it hurts no matter what i do [or take]. it's not the kind of pain you get used to either, which is the part that's driving me insane. usually, i just get used to it and that's it....but this is the kind of ouch that when it does stop for a second, you don't sit there and go "ohh thank god," you actually sit there and go "why did it stop?" and then undergo a giant sigh of relief when it starts again because death seems to be the only viable option to make it desist. regardless, walking is damn near impossible because of my hip hurting so fucking bad, so i kind of do this hobble thing that involves minimal right hip movement; however, i can't do that when my brother or parents are around..which, of course, they were. i don't want to sound like an egotistical fucktard, but i seriously do deserve an oscar for walking normally and acting like i always do given the fact i have an insanely high tolerance for pain and i would have to excuse myself to go to the restroom every now and then during dinner because it hurt so bad just sitting there i couldn't not tear-up.

4. while in the airport, i graced their lovely restroom facilities with my presence...and, well...urine. i walked into the restroom and what do i see? a woman fixing her make-up in the mirror while her baby--around one years old--is sitting on the floor of the public restroom playing. sitting on the floor of the public restroom playing. what the fuck is wrong with people? i'm really not in the habit of judging peoples parenting abilities unless the little bastard is screaming and yelling non-stop in places he/she/it shouldn't, but i'm thinking this woman shouldn't be allowed to own a fish, let alone have a child. public restroom floors are not where you put babies. i don't even put my carry-on on the floor of the public bathroom because it's that repulsive...and there is this baby having a blast in an infectious disease playground while mother tends to something way more important: her lipliner.

5. while waiting in the gate area to load the plane, i sat and busted out my laptop and ipod. no one was around me, so imagine my funtastic surprise when this woman sat right next to me and started chowing down on some tcby ice cream. she inhaled it with a speed that left my own brain freezing, got up, threw it out, and continued on to her gate. i understand that tcby is delicious (when stoned), and i understand ice cream melts...but i'm thinking you don't have to buy it and immediately inhale it. i somehow think she could have walked down to her gate and things would have been just fine.

6. the guy who sat next to me on the plane took a magazine out of his suitcase before sitting down. the magazine is affectionatly entitled guns and ammo. the icing on the cake is the fact the guy happens to be a defense attorney in c-town. anyone else find that insaley hilarious and wrong? or is it just me?

7. naturally, i had to take a taxi from the airport to the bro's apartment and naturally i got the funniest fuckin taxi driver ever. he opened the van door (remember...everything really is bigger in texas), and there was a persian rug right there in the middle of the passenger area. shweeeeet!! so we're driving through this hideous state of texas--seriously, houston is pretty ugly--and his phone rings. what is his phone ring? "we didn't start the fire" by billy mother-fuckin joel. bomb ass!

8. a moment of silence for the relatively unknown but uber fun and funny white trash lounge it died today after putting up a good fight against the evils of reality. may it rest in peace in the great big ol' trailer park in the sky.

9. anyone else nauseated by the people who use the pillows and blankets on the plane? or am i that ocd?

10. classes start tomorrow. classes never really ended for me, so it's hard for me to get into the "back to school" groove of fall semester. i have class at 8am today. you can't see my face, but i will tell you that this *points to her face* is the face of pure excitement. it ranks ever so slightly below the excitement of waking up tomorrow and my hip being five times worse