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First the needles, then the concealer, now my RATS??

Posted on January 6, 2007 by Annie

No matter how many times I write notes to myself, when I’m flying I forget that I’m not supposed to have liquids in my carry on luggage. In some cases my idiocy is absolutely head-smacking Like the time when, on the way to the Newark Airport, I shoved a FULL container of my FAVORITE hand cream [shore] into my carry on bag.

I thought I was shoving it into my luggage to check. I cried.

At other times I’m a creature of habit – even though I’ve switched to powder foundation & makeup, three times I’ve gone through security with a brand new under-eye makeup concealer only to have it confiscated. Once I actually HAD a ziplock bag on me and tried to shove my concealer into it as I approached the scanner, but it was a gallon bag (it’s supposed to be a quart) and the TSA woman was not having any of it.

… because the terrorists hate our flawless complexions.

Not a Problem: My knitting needles – sharp, metal, 14″ long.
Prohibited by Federal Law: My concealer

The part of me that was happy to shuck off my shoes and re-pack my computer/ipod/cell phone as a necessary inconvenience, has hardened into a suspicious traveler who suspects – in my darkest moments – that the absurd level of security confiscation (hand lotion??) is simply training wheels for a police state. Get us used to it, and we’ll not protest the next level of restriction – whatever that might be.

And now – no more rats? Absolutely inhuman.

Poetry
Tonight we’re having a goodbye dinner with some South Orange friends – good friends – who live around the corner from us. He’s a talented graphic artist, she’s a gifted poetess, and they’re both PURE New Jersey!

The best part? Their older kids will be babysitting Hannah & Maxie.

The better part? Their kids are named Jack and Ruby. Seriously.

We will miss them terribly.

Poem
Hannah slipped a poem into an envelope and gave it to me last night as I was dropping off to sleep. Upon waking, I read it, and was very moved:

From New Jersey to Minnesota

Sighing, sighing,
soaring softly.
How great to fly
in the big blue sky.
But I am without
the wings.

And what a precious thing
wings can seem
when you are on the ground
without them.

Hannah Landy, age 10


The growing stack of boxes in the dining room is begining to make the whole move thing real for all of us.

MNer’s: any thoughts on Hastings?

Burn, baby, burn!

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