coursing through my veins i feel the poison flow.
sour pain closed inside my lips,
carmine to ebony behind my eyes.
bring silence on a platter; silvered dome to blunt the noise.
cover me in black. i curl into a shaking fist.
tightened bands around my slowing heart.
tiny glint of pointed light, soft, in gathered darkness.
bleed this poison out and let me live again.
bag check. (discussion of weirdness in the bag)
kate: sir, i need to have a look inside your bag. i may need to remove a couple of things and then put them back through the xray again for a second look.
pax: okay, that's fine.
kate: (not finding the weirdness that caused the bag check. hm. travel scrabble case and blue box.) ok, these two items are going to be separated from the bag and then all of it placed through the xray again. that way my xray operator can see better. something in here is pretty dense and we can't see the whole bag.
pax: not the jewelry.
kate: excuse me? i don't understand what you are telling me.
pax: you aren't putting the jewelry through again, are you? you can't just open the box and look inside and put the bag through the xray again?
kate, figuring out that the blue box has jewelry in it: no, sir. all of it has to go through again. do you want me to look inside? do you want to move into a private screening room so other passengers can't see it?
pax: no, just look at it. i just don't want you carrying it over there.
kate (follows procedures with box in public): ok, thank you. now i am putting it all back through the xray again.
pax: why?? you just looked at it.
kate: because that is my job. i looked at the items, but i have to run it all through the xray again. the xray will not damage these items (refraining from yelling out to the world that he has a jewelry box). here. for your privacy, i can place them flat in the bin like this and then place another bin on top so that other passengers can't see what is inside. does this work for you?
pax: why are you taking the bag too??
kate, having an internal goosfrabah moment and realizing that this douchcanoe thinks i am going to steal his swarovski crystal pendant: sir, when i first spoke to you, i advised you that there was something inside the bag that needed to be removed and placed through the xray a second time. you agreed to this procedure. you have two options at this point. you can allow me to finish what i am doing and get you on your way or you can choose to leave the checkpoint and most likely go through this again when you decide you want to come back. these items are going back through the xray a second time while you decide what you would like to do.
i placed the double-stacked bin and his bag back through the xray a second time, verifying that i had, indeed, found what the xray operator was looking at. she cleared the bag and the bin. when the bin exited the xray machine, i motioned to the passenger that he was all finished. i asked him if he would like me to repack his bag. right in front of a string of passengers he removed the top bin, waved the blue box for all to see, and told me he would re-pack himself. i offered the table to him, since it was out of the public eye, but he chose to repack there on the xray belt.
kate: sir, i would like to point out the irony of your position during our entire conversation about that blue box and how you didn't want it seen, so i tactfully hid it from public view.... and yet you are waving it around like it's a happy meal toy. (insert barbie smile) have a good flight.
what you said: you are so thin. are you anorexic or something? you must be bulimic. are these your hip bones? *shakes head* you need to eat more, and not be so picky about your food. can i buy you a hamburger or something? *giggles*
what i heard (because i can't put your tone of voice on the interwebz): you are the skinniest bunch of bones. there must be something wrong with you. you should get professional help because you don't look like me.
what i said: *embarrassed chuckle* no thanks; i was very sick for a while and lost 30 pounds before we sort of figured out what was wrong. my food allergies keep me from eating a lot of foods and my high metabolism burns off everything i can eat. i make healthy choices and don't eat a lot of fats or restaurant food because fatty foods make me feel sicker.
what i thought: fuck you, you ignorant, judgmental cow. how about you lie in bed for weeks on end, your body rejecting everything you put inside it, including teaspoons of water at a time? how about you go to the hospital and have them use a pediatric needle to try to draw blood from collapsed, dehydrated veins? THAT is pain. THAT is bruises the size of a dollar around the needle entry site. how about you go through testing for weeks on end, awaiting results of cancer, parasites, allergies, poisoning, and many more - on edge just waiting for some kind of diagnosis and STILL unable to hold down food? have a tasty radioactive drink while they take pictures of your glowing insides and then shit yourself inside out for a week after that - and get zero results. go re-arrange your eating habits and have a finite selection of food you CAN eat, limiting your restaurant choices to about five in the state and hope to god they don't fuck up your order and make you sick. happened to me twice from starbucks last month alone. why don't you just shut your face and stop eating? you are obviously picky about your food since i only see you eating garbage; try something that ISN'T fried. pick up your pace and walk a little instead of slouching and slogging everywhere you go. i don't need help because *I* am a healthy weight and right at the body mass index for my height and age. my muscle tone rocks and i could probably kick your ass if you didn't sit on me first. bitch.
what i did next: turned away and wiped tears from my eyes and tried to put it out of my mind. fail. sticks and stones may break my bones, but your judgment stings right through my heart and poisons everything else you say.
i maintain that "if you can read, you can cook." i keep trying to convince my husband of this; my daughter's cooking is heaping evidence in my favor. so i placed a challenge before the two of them and boy did they succeed. tasty, juicy, fantasmagorical success. this is the recipe i compiled at 04:30 am and emailed home. it definitely did not need to be cooked 20 minutes per pound, as i read in a couple different recipes. this bad boy is for 2 5-pound chickens, because one bird is just not enough in this house.
the chicken was falling off the bone, literally halved itself off the beer can!! juicy, tender flesh, slightly sweet and nicely herbed with places of crisped skin. the can kept the roasting chickens moist and the herbs and lemon UNDER the skin produces a much more flavorful meat. it is disgusting, but WORTH the effort. enjoy. :)
