I hate…

I hate trying to scrape the last traces of peanut butter out of the jar but I can’t bring myself to throw the jar away until I’ve succeeded.

What do you hate but feel compelled to do anyway?

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I’m terza rima, and I talk and smile.
Where others lock their rhymes and thoughts away
I let mine out, and chatter all the while.

I’m rarely on my own – a wasted day
Is any day that’s spent without a friend,
With nothing much to do or hear or say.

I like to be with people, and depend
On company for being entertained;
Which seems a good solution, in the end.

What Poetry Form Are You?

back to the southern hemisphere

Thirty hours of hanging out in airplanes and airports gives you a skewed sense of the world and time. After a period of time, you begin think that you really *NEED* a glow in the dark luggage tag with a gps locator device. Or a 100 foot beam LED flashlight with strobe function as opposed to the Barbie one you swiped from your daughter’s nightstand. At the very least you become convinced the latest issue of Star magazine is sufficiently literary to deserve at least a portion of your airport wait. A hefty portion considering how long it is you are having to wait.

Thirty hours is enough time to realize you should have worn sneakers instead of flip-flops, long sleeves instead of short and more deodorant. You should also have packed more diapers and diaper wipes in your bag as well as a couple hundred changes of clothes for the kids. You embarked on your trip with absolute certainty that there was no way in the world you would need the entire refill bag of 180 moistened towelettes. But sadly, you had never realized just how many things there are to spill, stain and sticky-fy a child in an airport. Gum, candy, the half-finished Starbucks decaf non-fat triple syrup cup of whipped glue the person sitting next to you just left on the floor, not to mention Cinnabon, Auntie Annie’s and Mr. Goody’s peanut shack. It’s amazing your children didn’t get on their 10 hour flight with a crunchy candy coating.

In thirty hours, you can eat 6 meals if you time it just right, along with a snack or two thrown in for good measure, drink 8 fountain drinks, read 15 magazines at 15 different magazine stands and spend 3 hours sifting through racks of golf jackets you didn’t even know you needed.

The next time you plan a trip, you’ll remember that 30 hours airport time is at least 3 days in the real world. You’ll remember that you emerge 30 hours later with a build up of at least 3 days worth of grime and stress. But you’ll be relieved to remember that your children escaped unscathed by the long wait.

They were too busy licking their way out of their protecive candy coating to notice.