I whisper your name (ayradyss) wrote,
I whisper your name

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Wow, I've gotten sparse...

I'm still here, O Best Beloved.

The conference in Boston went well, despite my going through the suspected-terrorist line on the way back once again. I lingered outside the line, eating my bagel, as I was afraid they wouldn't like the plastic knife I was using to put cream cheese on it. I completely forgot about the pair of bandage scissors in my backpack.
It was 0730. My flight was boarding at 0740. I got cut in line by the man who'd been standing right behind me, who decided that now was a good time to lie and say he'd been in front of me and how dare I cut him when we were both on flights leaving at 0810 and not 0800. Rather than hold up the line by arguing, I let him go. His ulcers should keep him good company.
Put my stuff through the scanner, chatting with the man running it. Backpack-laptop-shoes. Walked through. Sat down. Got wanded. Got my calves patted down, as I was wearing jeans with little grommets in the back. Had an apologetic male screener (the only screener they had) ask if it was okay to do the upper-body patdown they have to do. I said yes. He asked again, obviously worried about potential lawsuits. I told him it was fine, to go ahead and do what he had to do. He did, and quite professionally, too.
They found my bandage scissors in my bag (I got them from Rocephin). I had forgotten them. I apologized profusely. He took them to his boss and asked if I could keep them. Boss said no, even though bandage scissors are blunt on the ends, they had one right angle which could be used to hijack a plane with. The bag searcher was very apologetic. I told him to keep them, that I was certain the drug companies would be happy to help pick up the tab for keeping America safe. I said it quite sincerely. It earned me a few moments of bag-searcher-blinking before he set the scissors aside and told me I was free to go.
I made my plane, just like everyone else who was standing in line.

This week has been busy, what with coming home from Boston and then promptly forgetting my pager and ID badge at home on the very night I got to go in on a delivery (nine-pound girl, four tiny little lacs, I did almost all of it) - and thus having more time than expected to spend with my Angel. Also I've been with my Angel mostly, finding a connection I had feared was fading with distance and time. There have been more important things, recently, than keeping you updated, O Best Beloved. And I am not sorry about that.

Do I have stories? I always have stories. But it is also approaching time for me to go in and find something to learn from for the day. Angel? I didn't send my paper with you, and I think my schedule of lectures etc. is at home still. :(

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