This morning I took a quick flight up to Boise to see these folks.
Looking good, eh? (I like to pretend I'm Canadian.) Yup, those are snow covered mountains you see, just past the snow covered hair.
And look who else is up here.
As you can see, I am wearing that shirt every day. Because when something's true, you should proclaim it from your chest every. single. day.
I got lots of compliments from women in the airport--everyone wants one. Do you? You can get it here. Warning: They run kind of small. I have a size Large and it fits perfectly and I'm usually a Medium. It is a fun shirt, that's for sure! Last week I bought the domain name imtooprettytowork.com. Can you believe it was available? Now I have to come up with some fun website. Or maybe that could be a book title. I have a lot to do...
Anyway, Debbie of From Venting to Viggo fame and I were laughing last Saturday night about how we're both a friggin' pain in the ass because we're so damn fussy about everything. I thought of her during my flight. The plane was two-thirds empty--Yay, right?--and I like to sit in the back because you have the best chance of having some room to yourself. So I get myself all situated with my Altoids, pen, People magazine and USA Yesterday (they don't publish on the weekend) folded to the crossword--I'm all situated--and what happens but a couple sits right in the row in front of me.
I'm thinking, "The whole back of the plane is empty and you have to sit there?" Not in my row, mind you, but the row in front of me. Nonetheless, I am annoyed beyond belief and now my whole flight is ruined because I have to look at that flake of dandruff on the guy's head just inches away from me and if he reclines his seat during the flight I'm gonna lose it. Which he, of course, does, thus forcing my eyeballs to roll clear back to my cerebellum where no doubt they will someday be stuck for good.
Now, you might ask, if the plane was so empty, why didn't I just move to another seat? BECAUSE I THOUGHT THAT WOULD BE RUDE! So I sat there fuming, just hating this couple for two freakin' hours. Jesus H, can you imagine being married to me??? I'm a mess.
Courtney once made herself an "I'm a mess" T-shirt. Maybe I should have her make me one.