Posts Tagged ‘airport’

The last six months have been very busy for me. At times quite stressful.

The weekend of my daughter’s high school graduation (she graduated on the Friday) seemed especially busy. My husband was preparing to fly back to India on the Sunday with Thumper (the infamous canine) in cargo. We were worried about the mutt. And doing a bunch of last minute things.

We drove them to the airport (an hour from our home) hours earlier than the flight to ensure all paperwork in order.

It was hot. But it’s always hot in Malaysia.

And I was sweating. But I was always sweating in Malaysia.

Had to rush home from the airport because a friend was in from Australia and we needed to meet a group for dinner.

It was rush, rush and rush.

Got home but no time for a shower. What to do?

Brushed my hair and put it up in a clip. Some lip color.

I stunk. Just being honest. So I grabbed a face cloth and soap and cleaned under my arms.

Because I smelled like a person who had labored all day in the Malaysian heat without deodorant. For the record I do wear deodorant. Sometimes it fails me. In Malaysia.

At least I’m aware of it.

Hightailed it out of the house with my daughters and our friends who lived two doors down to meet up with our visiting friends at an Indian restaurant in the city.

It ended up being a lovely evening. The young folks went home right after dinner. My daughters had an early flight out in the morning. My friend and I went with the visitors for a couple of drinks after dinner.

Not a late night.

Arrived home and readied myself for bed. Now, thankfully, I only smelled like Indian food and wine.

My eldest, who sleeps with me when she’s at home and my husband is not, mumbled a few words like, “How was it?”

I took that as my cue for conversation.

She’s not always a fan. Because I’m sometimes pillow to pillow, “Remember your friend, Melissa, from second grade? Whatever happened to her?” and the like.

So I said, “Was a good night with the friends.”

And then continued conversing.

She said, “Not tonight, Mom. Early flight tomorrow.”

Totally respected that and snuggled into my pillow for a good night’s sleep.

Few minutes later I hear, “Mom?”


“When we came back from airport did you shower?” she asked.

“No! You know I didn’t have time for that. Had to get downtown. I just cleaned under my arms with soap and water.”

She continued, “With the face cloth that’s on the sink?”



Okay, I laughed out loud even though I was nearly in slumber town. Couldn’t help myself.  Total belly laugh.

I said, “I’m going to blog about this one day.”

She replied, “Be more embarrassing for you though.”

I retorted, “Not really. It was my face cloth. Who uses someone else’s face cloth????”

Wishing you all a fun weekend! With a belly laugh or two! I promise to be better at updating the blog!












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I think it’s funny what we notice. And what we do not notice.

I remember one morning driving a classmate of Annie’s to school in Southern California. We were driving the same route that her family would take since she lived near us. Of course, I chat along the way. And ask her if she sees this crossing guard with the big furry boots each day? Or the Indian woman who walks daily in her sari and a hoodie. Just pointing out the colorful characters on the way. And popping out a few more questions as we continue to school.

The kid told me she had never noticed any of them or seen any of the things I mentioned.  I thought it was just very interesting that two families taking the same ten minute route to school every single day are not noticing the same things.

Sure, things blur and eventually fade after time, like speed limit signs and horrible images on cigarette packages.

My first time through the duty-free shop in Kuala Lumpur Airport, I spied all of these terrible, graphic and sometimes unidentifiable images plastered on cartons of cigarettes.  I said to the young lady surrounded by these images, “My goodness, you have to look at those every minute of your work day!” But then later I thought, “After awhile, she probably doesn’t even notice them.”

Things do blur. And then fade. Until you don’t even notice them anymore.

But do people blur?

I got used to seeing the same people every single day and when I didn’t then I missed them. Whether it was the middle-aged Hispanic guy waiting for the bus holding a big tote bag embossed with a huge, yellow smiley face. Or the two boys that walked to school together each morning sporting the same haircut, skater boy outfit and look. Or the furry booted crossing guard. Or the Indian woman in a hoodie. And so many other folks out there.

Do people blur? And fade away? Should they?

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