"The Hazing Incident" or "My 30th Birthday" -- PART I

Dear all of my fans,

Sorry it has been one LONG and strenuous week since my last post. I know you have ALL been checking this dirtay website frequently and have been disappointed by my silence, but as you all know -- I am on a quest and sometimes the quest to self discovery takes a long time and therefore time away from the compter. Maybe you're wondering where I have been...well, kids, sit down on your behinds (but not Indian Style because that's not P.C.) and let me tell, no weave, you a story filled with wonder -- the story of the weekend I turned 30 OFFICIALLY and acted like I was 21...no wait, 19 and pledging a FRATERNITY (not even a sorority).

It all began with a taxi ride to JFK where Becky actually almost puked due to the driver's excessive use of the brake. We made it with plenty of time to spare -- we had a slice of pizza, I perused the magazines and then had a weird conversation with the Hudson News cashier (I think she said she liked my earrings, but when I said I got them at Urban Outfitters she looked at me like I told her my mom was Britney Spears). Seeing that we had only a half an hour until boarding time we made our way to the security line which was ridiculously slow. BUT, we weren't worried -- we were early. Long story short: next thing we know we hear our horribly mispronounced names on the loud speaker. Our flight was about to leave. Thinking that surely the security dudes would take pity on us and push us to the front of the line, we tell them our flight is about to leave. The guy says "Still gotta go through security". Now we are slightly panicking and my right armpit is actually profusely sweating (weird right?) and we ask another guy if we're going to make the flight -- the original security dude gets hostile and says "It doesn't matter who you ask, you still have to go through security". Um...thanks. Basically, it is true every person who works in an airport is an asshole and putting on knee high boots while running for a plane is dangerous. The good news is, we made it to the gate in time and onto the plane to catch the brunt of angry traveler's glares like "You're the assholes holding this bitch up". I sat in my MIDDLE SEAT (ew) and started to get psyched for Miami...the official city of my 30th Birthday.

TO BE CONTINUED...(I'm really tired and I mean, there's no TV to leave you with cliffhangers so...)