Bruiser

Due to the copious amounts of topical steroids i use on my skin to treat an occasionally gnarly case of psoriasis, i bruise easily.  Very easily.  To the point that i have become accustomed to seeing a good deal of purple and blue in the mirror as i go about getting dressed.

Changing into my cycling gear last Sunday, Captain Bligh* commented on a large purplish-black baseball-sized bloodblot blooming on the back of my left arm.

Captain Bligh:  Where did you get that?

daisyfae [checking reflection in mirror]:  Huh.  How ’bout that?  i have absolutely no idea.

My shins and legs are in a nearly constant state of battery, but my upper body is usually spared.

Captain Bligh:  Pretty sure I didn’t do it.

daisyfae:  No.  But it could be some other sort of “USI” – “Unidentified Sexual Injury”.

Or, in fact, it could have been a “UDI” – “Unidentified Drinking Injury”.  Or some combination of the two.  But i’m sort of used to it… and don’t give it much thought.

daisyfae:  You know, if i ever die of suspicious circumstances?  You and my other gents are in deep shit.  The ol’ “CSI’s” will be on your doorstep in a heartbeat!

i’ve suggested that they should all wear red carnations to my funeral.  So they can identify each other, throw back a few beers and talk shit about me after i’m gone.

But maybe they should pool resources and hire a really good attorney…

* The gentleman formerly known as “Mr. X” has self-selected his own callsign.  After our tandem cycling ride, where he kicked my ass from the front of the bike, he thought it a suitable name.  Seeing as he both inspires and shames me into working out more, i’d have to agree…

Roadtrip Follies – Spring Edition

Speaking of travel disruptions…

i’m curled up in a corner of the Philadelphia International airport. Sitting on hard tile, near an outlet. Backpack serving as backrest.  Tummy has had a couple pints and a snack.  The place is just lousy with people…. People in a hurry.

i will be here awhile.

Left the office mid-day yesterday for an easy trip to the east coast.  Kick off meeting for a new project, i was to be “meat in a seat” – the Management-Like-Object who sends the “Yes, we care enough to send the high level salaried folks” message to our new partners. 

i was in a good mood at the airport, encountering no lines, and had plenty of time before my flight for a change.  Directed to go into the plexiglass “millimeter wave imaging” scanner, i decided to sing “The Stripper Song” and do a little ‘bump and grind’ for the agents about to visualize my lumpy middle-aged bits in a far off room…

The gentleman from the TSA who welcomed me outside the door smiled – saying “We don’t get many folks enjoying the process this much!”

daisyfae [cheerfully]:  It was “the stripper song”… it reduces my stress levels if i’m doing this as performance art, as opposed to being visually raped by strangers!

TSA Man:  Oh, that’s what that was.  Didn’t recognize the song!

daisyfae:  Maybe if i worked on making better trumpet sounds, that would help…

TSA Man:  That opens up too many obvious jokes!  I’ll leave it there!

Refreshing, for some strange reason. 

Had a nice quiet night, ditching my travel mates for dinner, and opting to knock back a couple pints at the hotel bar.  Spent the evening in my jammies, reading a book.  Civilized departure time of 0830 allowed me to even sleep a little later than usual.

Meetings were fine.  Enjoyable, even.  i learned new things.  We even laughed a bit.

It was on the drive back to the airport that we got the “flight cancelled” message via text – and from the backseat i started working travel options from the phone and blackberry-accessible internet. 

We found an alternate airport.  Flight will get us home after midnight.  If it goes.  Had to adjust rental cars a couple of times – as we’ll need a place that stays open late. 

We have another five hours to kill in the airport.

Went for a pint.  Talked with a pleasant couple hoping to get home tonight to the Carolinas… Patient, and delightfully surprised by the extensive beer offerings at the little hole-in-the-wall airport bar.  We chatted while listening to another woman bitch endlessly into her cell phone about the horrors of a travel delay*.

i sit here, with free connectivity to an internet.  i really have no idea how the internet works, yet it allows me to read the newspapers from around the globe – including my hometown.   Allows me to send messages to my family/friends regarding my travel disruption.  Allows me to check the hours of the rental car facility to make sure the lights will be on if when i get there tonight.

As i read about the loss of life in Japan… the continuing uncertainty regarding the status of the nuclear reactors… the stories of those who have lost their homes… i stop feeling the hard tile under my ass.

As i read about the now international civil war in Libya?  i stop worrying about getting off an airplane at midnight and having to drive for an hour to get my car, and then drive another half hour to get home.

As i watch a young couple playing with their four year old son – who is in a wheel chair?  i remember that i need to call my 22 year-old and see how he’s doing.

Bring on the thunderstorms.  i got nothin’…

~~~~~~~~~~~~

* Weather.  Entire east coast/midwest.  Not a fuck of a lot the airlines can do with hail, lightning, snow and big winds, folks…