by syaffolee

I guess I’m one of the last people having my blogger account being transfered to the new system. That was probably why I couldn’t access my account last evening when I wrote the last part of this post about airport mayhem.

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The Thursday Threesome: Rings, things and fine array

Onesome: Rings- Hmmm.. How are you about jewelry? Do you wear any? …none? What is your day to day complement. …and what one particular piece do you save for special occasions?

I like looking at jewelry. For about a minute. Then I get bored. The only type of jewelry I get interested in is the ones inside glass museum cases and that’s only because of the history behind them.

My only concession to body adornment (and voluntary mutilation) are two silver rings in my left ear. Getting my ears pierced weren’t really about trying to be pretty or following the crowd. I think it was more about individualism and a rebellion against a high school administration bent on banning piercings.

Other than that, I don’t wear other jewelry, even on special occasions.

Twosome: Things- Ah, and how about those ‘things’ about the place? You know, the ones that you cannot throw out, but don’t seem to really have a place of their own… Where do they end up? …in The Drawer? …or do you have a better place for those bits of randomness that just seem to show up now and again?

Randomness ends up in a drawer or in the closet. I’m actually rather haphazard when it comes to organizing things, but I put things in such a way to look like I’m rather organized.

Threesome: and fine array- Okay, so Summer’s here (except in the Land Down Under)… What is your “fine array” to clothe yourself in for the next few months? Do you still maintain? …or do you ‘go native’ with vengence? Hmmmm???

My wardrobe isn’t complicated. Just a t-shirt and a pair of jeans or shorts.

…and the quote? From Sarah this fine evening: “We will have rings, things and fine array”, Taming of the Shrew, Act 2.

Neat. Taming of the Shrew is one of my favorite Shakespearean plays despite the ending.

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Madhouse

Perhaps I should have taken note when I looked up from the trashy occult thriller I was reading and observed that half of the people standing in line were “preboarders”. I spent the entire flight in a headachy daze as preschoolers and toddlers yelled and screamed, and if they were being coherent, they said fatalistic comments very loudly. I ended up sitting in front of a restless little girl who kept pounding the back of the chair as if it were a punching bag. A flying tin can is certainly an excellent way of magnifying obnoxious behavior.

When I finally entered the terminal, it was a madhouse. People were packed into unmaneuverable clumps. It was made worse with the hordes of others (the people picking the passengers up) at the baggage claim. I could hardly get a glimpse of the conveyor belt since there were tall, large men standing in front of me. (Of course, I could have said “excuse me” or even tried elbowing my way through, but I didn’t want to risk the chance of getting pummeled to the ground.) It was pure, concentrated chaos. Remind me next time never to get to an airport in the late afternoon.