Mom Discovered Facebook

Posted on September 25, 2012 by authorlisaadams

What could possibly be worse than being felt up by a doctor performing a breast exam? Mom discovered Facebook.

Naturally, I would read her latest post at the airport en route back to the culinary wasteland that is Chadron, Nebraska. She wrote about her dog, Maxine. I love Maxine. She’s a schnauzer who is just cute. I have a cat named, Maxine, too. But she is more often stinky than lovey, and so earned her true name of Stinkleberry the kitty fairy but I digress.

My weenus was left inviolate this search, but my mother has burned a heinous visual image on my mind’s eye that will traumatize me and all of my Facebook friends for the rest of the day and possibly beyond.

See, Maxine had surgery which went fine. I was thinking, “Great! I’m so glad she’s okay.” But then mom goes on to describe, in graphic detail, the side effects of the surgery. Apparently, for a short time Maxine will literally shoot turds out of her ass and act surprised when it happens. She reiterates that this will only happen for a while.

Oh my God, mom! Reaaaalllly?! Couldn’t you have told me on the phone? Egads! One of her friends “liked” the post, LIKED it! And because mom’s been having trouble figuring Facebook out – how to respond to posts, what “liking” something means, etc. – I didn’t want her feeling all kinds of bad. So I liked the post, too.

Now I will be known among my friends as “that turd story”-liking individual. I do sense unfriendings coming at me fast and furious. Or they will merely remark, “Hmph, yah. That figures. Now we know where she gets it.” Prep school redux. Reliving the adolescent nightmare of wearing the totally wrong outfit, or make-up that’s too dark for your skin, to class.

I truly believe this Facebook post has negatively affected some cosmic balance that should have been left alone. Shortly after reading her post and liking it, my American Airlines flight from San Antonio to Dallas was delayed. All the other flights were on time. I watched them come and go as I waited in the airport.

This subsequently led to a rather snide encounter with an American rep following a brief quasi-outburst about the fact I had to represent a client at a trial today, Tuesday morning, at 8:30 a.m.; and that because this flight was delayed I would miss all my connecting flights.

But it’s kinda hard to take anyone seriously while they are waving around a bag holding 6 elephant ears and 12 empanadas (apple and vanilla cream, thank you very much) that my hosts had so graciously purchased for me as a final, parting gift.

I love my mom. She is my heart. I surely love Maxine who is just the best dog ever. But now I shall forever be associated with the turd rocket pooch. What are you gonna do? Just smile and click, “LIKE”.

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Airport Odyssey

Posted on September 21, 2012 by authorlisaadams

Ok, so I am all kinds of excited about my trip to San Antonio, right? But this time around, I’m flying. Are you laughing yet? So, with the sense of impending doom since I have to fly American for part of this adventure (and theoretically they are about to strike or do something dramatic) I awakened at 4 a.m. and began my journey. Hoorah.

First snafu: tsa found something in some nebulous location under my suit jacket, but just above my elbow. Now seriously, what the hell is even the above-average criminal gonna hide there? Granted, it’s in close proximity to one’s weenus (no dictionary but sorely needed excuse to use word) but it’s not like you use your elbow to do much of anything, right? And this was right after going through the neat x-ray thingy where you raise your hands above your head and covertly reveal to the world that most women do, in fact,wear grannie panties and not Victoria’s secret.

Needless to say the offending object that caused the x-ray machine such issues was…my shirt button. I had rolled up my sleeves. Silly me. But it’s kind of neat how I had to stand on a special rubber mat with little foot marks on it to prepare to be frisked while my weenus was evaluated for deadly potential. I felt rather like a Bond girl only without the swimsuit and amazing body and stuff.

I made it to my flight on time and watched Mel leave the security area. I cruised on board and took my seat. Jesus, when did they come up with pleather as the material of choice? My ass caught the seat and my blouse slid up as I slid down. Nasty. Wardrobe adjustment was immediately required before my lower back adhered to the seat like in a hot car with leather seats in the summer. Believe me, it makes a most unflattering sound when you detach and stand.

Being a rather cheerful sort, I said hello to the chap who took the aisle seat next to me. Huge mistake. He had a bad case of crustyitis and clearly had not yet consumed his morning gin and tonic. I knew sleep was required when I mentioned that I did not know Jimi Hendrix had been a paratrooper during the Vietnam war and he responded, “It’s amazing what you can learn when you read.”

Look, man, I was reading Vanity Fair, a favorite magazine, and it was mentioned in an article, sigh. But that’s okay. Now I’m at the tail end of a three hour layover and wondering what the world of flight has in store for me now other than learning to blog off a NOOK.

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