Captain Obvious, at your service

I would be such a productive member of society if the Internet didn't exist in my life. I would get my homework done! I would have time to see friends! I could (gasp) go outside! Imagine that...a life devoid of a keyboard. It would be strange, that's for sure.

Right now, I am supposed to be writing an essay. I decided to update my blog instead. Why complete something that I need to have done by tomorrow and get a good night's sleep when I can peck away at my keys until sunrise? I am so connected to my computer, I feel the need to name my first child Mozilla. I need computer detox: no emails, no AIM, and certainly no Facebook (the root of all evil in the world...such wonderful evil).

Before I forget, I want to pass on a little kernel of knowledge to you all: many airlines no longer stock barf bags (oh sorry, "air sickness receptacles"). I learned this the hard way. I didn't get sick, but the kid in the row in front of me certainly did. Homeslice started to yak, and with nothing to barf into, was resigned to throwing up on the seat and himself. I had the great fortune of not only listening to him heave, but then smelling vomit for the duration of the trip. I am pretty sure the kid ate a trash sandwich with a sewage milkshake for dinner. Foul. In conclusion, if you or someone you know is about to vomit on a plane, plan accordingly.

March Madness

I have a gift. When it comes to the opposite sex, I am able to ignore fatal flaws (red flags) obvious to the rest of the universe for the sake of getting whatever it is I am looking for.

Last night, while frequenting my favorite little corner-of-hell bar, I ran into a few corporate types. They were older than the guys I normally date by about 25 years. (Let's face it, some of these guys were old enough to be my dad.) Red flag number one was when Old Guy With Tie introduced himself to me by saying "Hi, I'm Old Guy with a Tie. I have been married for seven years and I am looking for an affair." Hmmm. I should have backed away slowly, as if I had just angered a large hippo. Instead, I told him to buy me a drink. Red flag number two came when he started hugging me. I like hugs, I thought. This is fine! Apparently, the drinks he bought me allowed me to forget that hugs from strangers with wandering hands who hang out in college bars playing Golden Tee are not ok. May I never have an old man's hands on my ass again. Amen.