Things I Have Been Doing Other Than Posting In My Blog

- Fauxinca is leaving the agency. No one should be surprised, as she is the smartest girl in the office, and therefore has been an inevitable flight risk from day one. While I will miss the two-hour shopping lunches, I am pretty sure I am more likely to be able to retire without her coaxing me into making unwise handbag purchases. Not to mention the health and financial benefits of not having a thrice-daily Starbucks partner.

- Speaking of unwise handbag purchases, I have chosen to return the Marc Jacobs. The heady feeling of Italian Leather is probably not quite as thrilling as being able to pay my mortgage. Plus, then I can faux justify spending far more dollars on trendy cute shoes like this. And this.

- Spending an inordinate amount of time in Southern Indiana.

Sarah: I love how whenever you talk about going home, you say “Southern Indiana” instead of just Indiana. Like it’s another state all in itself.
Me: Sarah, should you, at some point, have an opportunity to visit southern indiana, you'll know that it is another place altogether. For example, Northern Indiana is half an hour away. I go SIX HOURS SOUTH. On the border with Kentucky. It IS different.

This from a girl who grew up on the North Shore -- to a girl with a dad who owns two pick up trucks. One for everyday and one for special ocassions.

The biggest difference is in the airport security teams. I fly out of O'Hare a lot. There, the security people stare at you with flat eyes, waving you through the metal detector and scanning your bags with a bored indifference. There, you're just one person closer to a cigarette break.

In contrast, Security people at rural airports, while the least likely people ever to run into a terrorist threat, are totally bored and yet heady with their own power. Therefore they tend to get all up in your face -- like the time the guy at the Evansville Dress Regional Airport took away my cuticle scissors --

me: seriously? they're a quarter inch long. what damage could be done with that?
him: Brandishing el cheapo cuticle scissors: I'll be happy to SHOW YOU what kind of DAMAGE can be done with this blade!
me: . . .
me: (more incredulous, less Taxi Driver confrontational) are you threatening me?
his colleague: CALM DOWN EVERYONE! MA'AM!! MOVE ALONG!

Move along, people. Nothing to see here.