A quick note: I wrote this on scraps of paper I found in the airport, one being the ticket I printed out from my work printer. I bring it to you, unedited.


I am going to write while i travel; this is a testament to my future life’s goals. An ultimatum to myself.

So far:

Y drove me to the airport. It was nice to catch up with her. It’s nice having a seester who I can chill with. We pick up on conversations days later… it’s amazing. I’m in a crappy Disney bar with chrome tables and business men. There is some sort of teen dance troop watching TV and yelling “woo” as dance the stars murders the imagination. This 70’s dad with a stache guy just looked at me… fuck I’m gonna need more paper. A grandmother just told a girl to stop eating with her fingers. The girl shouldn’t talk to her mammy like that. My posture is getting RI-DICK. Wow, you are such a grandma, Grandma sitting next to me.

“She’s so pretty.” she says through a mouth full of pasta salad, indicating to the host of American Can Dance or whatever the fuck. They aren’t speaking to each other… just watching.

Some “club-y” woman, wearing clothes far too young for her (the Limited 2??) : “OMG! You got a picture of THAT!?”

She snorts into her champagne… champagne? Are they drinking champagne? They are… ha ha.Oh shit is my flight  nott delayed. I better chug this heineken. BTW, the waitress gave me a pen. Niceeee. Suck it Hudson News, effin three dollars for a  pen.

I like writing in public… it’s my new high.

Commercial flashes by on TV-

Sears: “Don’t just go back… ARRIVE”

really? Really?? Slutty kids…

Now the girl is flicking oranges at her grandmother. I wonder how she will arrive at school this year.

Isn’t it enough to get to go back to school? WHy don’t children enjoy learning anymore? Why doens’t our country value it?! …and they wonder why we weep for our future… if you raise children who’s heros are false idols… then you are aiding the problem.

I better go check on my flight.

Hours later in JFK…

Flight was ok. I awoke with bright red fingers and thought I was bleeding… but it was just flaming hot cheetos. Too bad… it might be fin to start bleeding randomly with strangers surrounding you. What would they do? WHat would I do?… While we were getting off the flight, some kid dropped the F bomb, but botox/juicy couture matching sweater and track pants set, didn’t seem to mind. We were standing awkwardly close to one another in the aisle and the lights flicked off as the power on the plane went out. I thought about having sex in the small utility closet bathroom. Most people panicked… i rolled my eyes and turned my phone on, and noticed the boy looked nervous. I told him that the power went out because he swore.

I had to go back through security in order to get my boarding pass… god i hate being cattle. I feel itchy. I found someone’s laptop when I was getting my boarding pass. This pushy, highlighted, matching pants and jacket wearing dried up fake tan 48 year old (I’m being nice) woman told me to give it to the attendant. She looked at me like I was about to bust a move outside and start selling that shit on Canal Street. I am not a juvenile delinquent.

I refused to get Dunkin donuts… and I’m sorry, but America doesn’t run on Dunkin’ in fact… I’m pretty sure  America’s not runnin’ anywhere because of Dunkin donuts. I stole Burough’s Dry from one of those Hudson news joints.

8/12 7:30 AM

Well well well look who’s finally on a flight home. After a calm olympic, rat infested weekend I am finally sitting, center seat, in front of a pterodactyl on a plane that will get me back to sunny CA. On the puddle jumper flight I sat amongst a large red haired vera bradley family. The girl(?) across the aisle from me kept poking her mom in front of me every five fucking  minutes. “How long will this take Mommy? Mommy, will you hold my hand? Mommy, dolly needs a snack. Mommy, I think I like girls” etc… The girl spoke as if she was eight , but looked at least forty-three.

The baby behind me is crying. Is there baby Valium? Like, a half tab?

“Mom Mom, MOM! See the clouds?!”

“Yeah quit pokin’ me”

(5 Minutes later)

“Mom (poke) MOM I’ve never been on a plane when it was raining. Do we get to watch movies?”

The girl is wearing all pink, a baby Target pink. Her muffin top rolled over the top of her sweat pants and made a shelf for her pre-teen, already flabby boobs to rest on.


Jesus I’m a bitch.


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