Oh no, she's gonna blow

I'm writing under protest today because I'm in a really bad mood. First I just found out in 12 weeks, I'll be in a new age group. I was filling out this form and was asked are you 25-34 or 35-49? What's that about? The good news is I'll be drunk the entire month of October so it won't matter. Ok, my friends know I'm lying. I'll drink vicariously. I'm too wild sober, you can't handle me drunk, Got a rocking bridal shower, the renaissance fest. And a trip to New Orleans which Bobby owes and if he doesn't put out, I'll have "people" who can make him see the travel light. Its good to have girlfriends in the martial arts.

Last week I'm watching tv and I see this thing on Government grants. It's gets into my head. Ok here's what pisses me off. If the government is dying to give money to a 6-ways-to-Sunday-minority like myself. (crip, woman, asian… I got it all baby) Why the bloody hell do we have to pay for the info? I've been on 400 websites and every single one wants $29.99. Hello? It all seems too hard.

I know that's pretty reasonable but I'm just not ready to make that commitment. Because I should have an idea first. Do I want money to promote my book as an "understanding Crips"? open a game store? Promote/help teach the disabled self defense… (Actually I just thought of that…) My head hurts with half-baked ideas.

And then something happened Saturday. At first it was flattering then it became weird. Bobby's Aunt was flying back to Dallas from visiting family in Kentucky. She had a layover in Houston. We went to the airport looking pitiful so she would buy us lunch. Have yall eating at the airport lately? Good stuff. Anyway we have a family friend working at the airport. She got us passes so we could see her off in the terminal.

I haven't flown tons, maybe a handful of times since 9/11. No security problems. Bobby walked through, Nicholas hopped through. No biggie. I get pulled over, which is normal. Usually one woman pats my thigh and sends me happily on my way. This time, not one, not two, but three people were searching me. I hear my husband laughing hysterically. As he puts it "What's a 95-pound-cripgirl gonna do?" which I just realize was an insult and now I have to kick his butt… after he goes to sleep tonight.

I'm not upset about the search. One of the security folks was a guy. Very friendly. I thought he was flirting with me. Oh, it's ok, Bobby and I get flirted with so rare, it becomes a family holiday, high-fiving each other… Pathetic maybe but that's a decade of being together.

I smile because I think security guy is flirting with me. He has all these corny lines like: "Body searched often?" and "I am not always this thorough." Then he gets very serious and goes, "I need to swipe you for explosive…"  The boy wasn't flirting with me. He was scared of me…

Now that I think about it, how cool is that? If my boys only feared me that way, life would be so much easier.