You gotta ask yourself pot, do you feel lucky?

Morning y’all - it’s Monday, and I’m back in the swing of June Cleaver Nirvana’s Potluck. So grab a plate, a plastic baggy of utensils and dig in.

As I sit and watch the oily pelicans stumble upon shore, not to mention the oily BP reps, as well as the oily politicians, stumble all over their CYAs, I’m thankful that I was given one last weekend to embrace my beloved, pristine Gulf of Mexico. I’ve read wonderful post after wonderful post (see Love the Gulf button to the right) of how this incredible place shaped childhood vacation memories, and for the lucky few, became home. Please do not equate the absence of my own loving post with lack of concern.

My despair is great.

So great in fact that I cannot yet channel my anger into concise and meaningful words, because right now, I just want Tony Hayward’s head on a platter. With a week-old scone stuck in his kidney-pie hole - “I just want my life back.” Please limey.

So, until I’m able to talk myself down off the Cliff ‘o Rage, I’d like to entertain you with a list of the Top 5 Things I Learned While Flying for the First Time Since Liquids Went Contraband:

5. Wear socks to the airport – I hope Richard Reid isn’t allowed shower shoes in the pokey, because if I have to walk barefoot across the same piece of floor that 100,000+ other people have graced at DFW in the last 24 hours, that piece of terrorist trash deserves a flaming case of athletes foot as well.

4. I use a lot of liquids during my daily beauty ritual – I can’t even look halfway decent with three oz. of anything, but some evil genius is able to bring down a commercial aircraft with what will fit in a quart-sized bag? I’m thinking it’s just a devious plan to keep Ziploc (oh, hi Johnson family company) in business.

3. Airlines need to quit being so freakin’ cheap and bring back in-flight food service – not because I miss their fabulous cuisine, but only to stop the need to bring on your own snacks. The sleeveless undershirt sportin’ gentleman (loose use of that term) seated in front of me consumed an entire Costco-sized bag of Ruffles Cheddar & Sour Cream flavored potato chips during the short flight. Maybe he’s a nervous eater, I don’t know. But he definitely had a nervous stomach. That stuff smells the same coming in and going out, if you get my drift. And thanks so much for not keeping your seat in the upright position bud. 

2. More expensive tickets do not equal higher caliber of fliers – (see above) I know that sounds like an elitist snob. I get it. But I used to love hearing my Gran speak of the Golden Age of Air Travel, where ladies wore gloves and heels and men carried the luggage. Unless you’re traveling to India and plan on actually having to sleep overnight on the plane, please pack your pj pants. And if you can afford to fly these days, you can afford a shower. Please.

1. Ticket Counter Attendants are still rude, they now just have a good excuse - no explanation needed. Plug in your own experience here.

Thanks American Airlines for this enlightening experience, but I think I’ll drive from now on. The Truck Stop crowd is more my people.

The Word I’m Working into Conversation this Week: Quiet

As in, “Mama needs to get some computer work done, so let’s have some Quiet time.”

Wish me luck.

And last, but certainly not least, I would like to extend a huge thank you to Holly and the gang at Johnson for this awesome basket of rise-n-shine goodies showcasing the new Scrubbing Bubbles Extend-a-Clean bathroom cleaner. This baby features a power sprayer – I thought great, another toy that eats batteries around here, but no, this sprayer is the greatest invention. Ever. No more squeezing the trigger over and over only to have air bubbles foil my cleaning efforts. Hold down the trigger, and this baby goes to town.

Note to Johnson: please sell this technology to the Unilever group. Spray Butter pump frustration must be stopped.

Happy Week my chickadees!