It's true, it's true. This Saturday will be the anniversary of the day I was birthed. And you know what makes that day even more special? I get new clothes.
After making a very detailed birthday list for hubster complete with url, size, color, and picture (sidenote, what's with all the cat sweaters Forever 21?) I'm pretty certain I'll get some new treasures. But seriously, Forever 21 has cat sweaters, shirts, purses. and jewlery on every single page. Overkill?
sunglasses, necklace & shoes-Forver 21 // shirt & pants-American Eagle // belt-Target
An ode to airports ---->Have you ever stood in line waiting to check your bag at the airport, only to have the person in front of you take 15 minutes rearranging their bags because the strict lady says 1/2 a pound overweight will cost $75? If you have, I apologize to all of you because that was the hubs and I yesterday. Heavens.
This bag was 10 pounds over weight, another was 1, and our little suitcase was already bursting open. So of course we sheepishly rearraged ALL of our suitcases! Bras were draping out the side, all of my beauty products that I was holding dropped, scattering everywhere. Weighed it again, 3 pounds overweight. Fling it open, take some more things out. (Cue bras jumping out at any sign of light).
Weigh again, "It's still a half pound, you need to take something else out." The lady said with an exuberated smile. OOOOKAY! I have checked bags before that were 5 pounds over and I didn't have to switch anything around or get charged. Lady. I loath you.
After holding up the line for a solid while, hubster and I with heads pointed downward scurried off to security, trying not to make any eye contact. And guess what. Hubs decided to take out his toiletries bag to lessen the weight. So of course his bag gets searched because of the massive bottles of ProActive, shaving cream, the usual in his carry on. While that's happening I decided since my backpack was so full of clothes I reallllly didn't want to open it again to take out my laptop. Plus, most of the time I left it in my backpack and never got in trouble.
Not this time.
Before I knew it some older fellow was taking everything out of my backpack. (Great.) Although he was quite the crack up. Even winked and said something about taking me to the special room. You know. Where they frisk people.
Meanwhile they take away my laptop to examine it and I'm left to once again, stuff my backpack with about a hundred eyes on me.
We finally get to our plane just in time to board. And guess what. The stewardess has a Hooters name tag on and loudly flirts with the male steward right behind that thin curtain, where she says her favorite hobby is tanning. He complains that that's not a hobby, but she insists it is because it's the only thing she does. Wish I hadn't heard that pointless conversation. But I did. For about 45 minutes.
I then get passed some mediocre nuts that won't open for the love of- and when they do, they spontaneously combust all over the floor.
And did I mention Coke Cherry is a pitiful substitute for Dr. Pepper? Because it is. And airports, really? Charging $2.50 for a bottle of Coke.
This rant is officially over. The end.