Airports Have Bested Me YET AGAIN!!!

As many of you know if you have read my blog in the slightest, I HATE flying with the passion that could probably fuel the city of Seattle if they could figure out how to convert passion into energy. It could fuel the city of Seattle at best--or at least fuel a small generator. The other day was no different during my flight home from Seattle. Like a good passenger, I arrived to the airport a generous one and a half hours prior to my departure. This gave me a lot of time to dilly dally, and, all things considering, Sea Tac does have a fairly decent shopping selection. The positive thing was that I found a book for my friend's birthday. I decided to break my commitment to buying only socially conscious gifts just this once because the book is called "101 Things to Do With a Blender" and I don't know about you but on any given day I can maybe think of ten things to do with a blender at most. The other plus was that I flew Southwest and there is really just no beating them. I mean you get two free bags. Really, Southwest I am happy to freely endorse you but I am also open to payment if you ever need one of those satisfied customer actors for a commercial or something.

Anyways, the rest of my airport experience was downhill. Here's my beef with my airport [or vegetable I guess as I don't eat beef] experience. 1) No water. Now, I realize liquids are not allowed due to national security and I appreciate that, TSA, I really do. However, I get very thirsty very quickly and have been referred to numerous times as a "camel" and I refuse to pay $3 fora bottle of water. 2) The food. I am sure that we have all encountered the outrageous prices for food in the airport. Why does my normally $4 Subway sandwich cost $8, and why does it taste at least 20% more terrible? I wanted to get a yogurt to try to incorporate some probiotics, live active cultures and calcium into my diet for the day, however I refuse to pay $1.49 for a container of Light and Fit when I know it costs $.60 cents at the grocery store, not because I can't afford it, but because it is a matter of PRINCIPAL. I normally try to avoid eating at airports in order to evade the problem altogether. However, today I was starving, thus I settled on a bagel which I purchased from a very unpleasant salesperson, and that had tasted as if they had taken five pieces of bread and sort of smashed them together, trying to get them to pass for a bagel. They had jam, so I was able to mask this effect a little. Because I knew that my bagel would not tide me over, I also finagled two packages of saltines, however after eating them I so keenly realized that this did not help with problem #1 of being thirsty. 3) I put this free sample of almond butter on my hands which then made them feel way to greasy. My fault. But it was a free sample. 4) Magazines. As I previously mentioned, I had an ample amount of time to toodle around the airport (and yes, I realize the issue of magazines is not particular to airports, but it just seems like a good time to rant anyways). Thus, I happened to look at the magazine rack. Now, out of general principal, I refrain from buying magazines such as "Cosmopolitan" or "Seventeen" mainly because I've realized that such literature tends to make me feel absolutely abysmal about my body, and I do not want to support that sort of industry [unless a Glee cast member is featured...or Mariska Hargitay]. However, every now and then I do appease my guilty pleasure and might paroose one every now and then at the supermarket or in this case the airport. So there I was and I was caught by the irony of many of the headlines. For example, Self magazine's cover said, "Healthy eating made easy." Healthy eating is NOT easy. Falsehood. It is NOT easy to select foods you know you should eat such as carrots, over say, cupcakes. Or how about "Love your body--do this new ab routine." I DO love my body a lot, regardless of the fact that of if I have a six pack. I can DRINK a six pack [not of beer though...maybe some Mike's...anyone...?], or maybe EAT a six pack of cupcakes, but you know what, I love my gut. In fact, your magazine just inclined me dislike my body by putting all these very thin and toned women in this magazine. Now, I realize that they really meant that you are loving your body because you're exercising, but the last time I did eight minute abs my body did NOT love me the next day [the soreness--ahhhh]. My favorite, though, was O magazine. This month's issue was "Big Deals." Apparently a $44 pair of earrings and a $70 non-descript white shirt quantify as "deals." My friend Heather says that maybe when she marries rich, a $70 cardigan will seem like a deal. I'm not sure, but what I do know is that for me "deal" means a $21 pair of gold shoes I bought that were 35 percent off the clearance price at The Rack. Or a $5 pair of Target earrings. I mean rally Oprah? I know you give cars away to entire studio audiences but I really think you need to re-evaluate your use of the word "deal."