Why Being At The Airport is Nothing Like My Women's College

or, The time I paid $5 dollars for Cosmopolitan (the magazine)

For startsies, I have been hit on THREE, tres, III, times by somewhat cute guys here at Washington Dulles International Airport. In fact, friendly, studly TSA Agent McBabe even offered to carry my bags (a purse and a LL Bean back pack ;) ) down to the terminal. Why, I should always fly on Tuesday mornings when nothing happens at airports.

The other two guys were working at Starbucks and put a smiley face in my coffee foam. I wish that were an innuendo for something. It isn't, yet.

When I was in the women's bathroom picking a wedgie and braiding my hair (simultaneously) an adorable old man walked in by accident. Then he whooped in embarrassment and scooted out. I had a good laugh, but then I heard his little voice from around the door apologizing for being so rude. It's okay!

Basically, my only comparison to an airport and an all women's college is ALL of my exciting interactions with the male sex! And the fact that the male sex isn't Haverford males, and I've made eye contact with all of them!

Oh, I also bought a Cosmopolitan (the magazine) and am reading about Nicki Minaj's kinky sex & how to utilize a neck tie to GET WHAT I WANT NOW, IN 15 MINUTES, TO LOSE 10 POUNDS. The only person shaming me for reading this is the old couple across from me in Gate B50, probs jealous about all the tips they think I'm gaining. But I just read Cosmo for the perfume. Duh.

Lastly, why this airport experience is unlike my women's college, is the wonderfully hilarious family to my right. They are completely unashamed at how politically incorrect they are being, talking loudly about what terrorists looks like!

Bon Voyage!


So the room I live in at SKEWL is in the renovated garage of an old mansion. I know, I know, I am really cool, BUT that is exactly it. When they did this "renovation" AKA put in an extra wall and threw in some chairs and a bed, they must have forgotten to, ya know, like iNSULATE the place.

Everything is absolutely freezing all the time and I can't go to bed unless I'm dressed for the day at the bunny slopes. I was actually upset last night because I couldn't find my hat and I was tired and it was this never conceding but inversely proportional relationship of horror because it took me a really long time to find it.

When I wake up I always have to re-realize how friggin cold my room is and asses the shortest distance from under my covers into a hot steaming shower---ONLY TO BE COLD WHEN I GET OUT.

OK ok, this was unproductive and self serving--I've done my job.