~ 2:53 pm ~
Dear fat and b*tchy old woman who sat next to me at the gate,
Why do you smell like rotting onions? I can almost forgive you for this assault on my senses, but you were a b*tch so I feel karmically free to make fun of you.
Hugs (with held breath) and no kisses,
Ysabel
*****
Dear strapping young hippie with blond hair tied in a pony tail underneath a wool beanie,
I was ready to be cutting and judgmental towards you for deciding that a super crowded airport terminal would be a wise place to bust out a remote control toy helicopter and start flying it over people's heads. But it was actually cute and amusing. I like the cut of your gib. Why can't there be people like you in Texas?
Patchouli hugs and platonic kisses,
Ysabel
*****
Dear Ysabel,
Why THE HELL did you volunteer to be bumped to a flight that would take off nine hours later than your original flight thereby causing you to be subjected to onion-smelling b*tches?! ...Oh, because you got a $400 travel voucher, that's why. Nice job! Only six more hours to go... You can DOOO it!
Love,
Ysabel
~ 3:14 ~
Oh God. I think I have to go twosies. Halp.
~ 4:06 ~
Update: the deuce has crawled back inside...for now (Sorry Mom. Sorry Schmoobs. Sorry...world). In other news: I have just devoured a king size Almond Joy and it has only served to awaken my hunger even more. Give me more coconut candy bars!! On a related note: it is Monthly Confirmation Time.
~ 4:29 ~
Am so bored that I decided to have a beer at the bar just for kicks. Being carded by the bartender made up for spotting a white hair atop my noggin in the airport bathroom while I was washing my hands.
Also, I am told that I have a chance of getting on the flight that is leaving in about 2 hours instead if 5. I'm crossing my fingers, toes and Fallopian tubes!
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