No! Not My Lipglosses!!!

I ventured to Vegas yesterday, for work, not for play. A day trip. 8am flight in, 5:30pm flight out. Let me tell you, I could not have picked a more cherry day for travel.

Growing up, my mom made us arrive to the airport like 5 hours early. It always pissed me off to no end. So as soon as I started flying alone, I started traveling on my own terms, which generally involves arriving the airport like an hour TOPS before my flight and seeing how close I can cut it. I guess it gives me an adrenaline rush or something. It also results in me nearly missing my flight on a somewhat regular basis, but that is all part of the game.

Anyway, so I get to John Wayne/OC airport y-day around 7:10. The traffic is insane, I’m baffled. I valet my car. I enter the AP, there are like 20,000 people jammed into this little AP in lines that wrap like 7 times and run the length of the building. I find nice people and cut in line (yes, I know, you hate people like me), but the cut really does me nothing cuz I’m still way at the back. I ask the people, “is this AP always like this?? What is going on?” I have now established that I’m 99% idiot, completely oblivious to the fact that there was very nearly a massive terrorist attack. And that these terrorists are getting super creative, with their liquid/gel explosives.

I’m like there is no way I’m going to make my flight. I try twice more to cut in line again, but no dice, although I did see a guy who was my attempted partner in crime pull a super slimy move where he somehow cut w/out permission and got away with it. I think, hmm, I should call my boss and the guy I’m going to meet and warn them about my situation. Reach for cell phone. It’s not there. Of all days to forget your cell phone, I think I picked the worst. I felt like I was missing my right arm or something. Luckily I managed to borrow a phone from not one but two people during my travel day to make stuff work.

More important than the lines was the issue of liquids and gels. It cracked my shit up. There were tables put out, and they were strewn with everything you can imagine. Deodorant, Vaseline, shampoo, creams, religious oils (no joke), Carmex, etc. One thought that did cross my mind…what if you had like…a tube of KY in your bag? What would you do??? Anyway, they were not kidding around. I had only a purse with me and I’m like I’m cool.

But then I hear them announce that you couldn’t bring on lipsticks/chapsticks/etc. And I started to hyperventilate. Not really, but what if I did? Anyway. I leaf through my bag. Here’s what we have inside: 1 tube Chanel lipstick; 1 tube Laura Mercier lipstick; 1 tube Bourjois lip gloss; 3 tubes Stila lip gloss; 2 tubes Stila lip stick. The rational mind asks, why on earth were you carrying that amount of lip-product? But guys, variety is the spice of life. Never mind that all my glosses and sticks pretty much are the same color… And I’m doing math in my head, and I’m like this is well over $100 worth of product, and I refuse to give it up so the sketch-dawg AP security guys can take it home to their girlfriends. No way. I ask the security guy if he’ll help me out and he points me in the direction of the Security Mailer drop box. Guys, in 3-4 weeks my lipsticks will find their way back to Santa Monica. 3-4 weeks. Really???

Anyway, some people like long-story-short. I prefer short story long. So in the end I made it to Vegas, cuz my flight was delayed like 40 minutes. Note, btw, that it’s very, very sad to be in Vegas and stare longingly at the casinos and then head to Kelly Pipe and Supply to talk faucets. Very sad. And now I’m back.

In closing, I want to note that I called my mom last night around 10:30 her time to tell her how our travel is going to be revolutionized and how we will always have to check bags and stuff. We talked for like 20 minutes. She was totally lucid. She calls me this morning, she’s like “Umm, where are you?? Are you in Vegas or something? Did you fly yesterday?” I’m like, “Mom, what are you talking about. I talked to you last night. We talked for 20 minutes. Are you on crack?” (I did actually ask her if she was on crack – my friend Brian suggested that she is actually on meth b/c I guess that is the new housewife drug of choice). I guess she had taken her Lunesta and claims that has no real memory of our conversation last night. Said my dad said she was talking about Vegas or something. I love my mom…but I told her that our conversation was officially weird and that I had to go.

So, here’s to airport mailers and moms on meth. Long live America.