The news that’s fit to print

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Leaving—on a jet plane. DO know when I’ll be back again. The very next day!

I’ve begun planning for my whirlwind trip by picking out, washing, drying, and hanging up the five wardrobe changes for my television debut. Hanging the clothes up is a fool’s errand since they’ll be shoved, er, placed nicely, in a suitcase soon enough, but I can at least give them a fighting chance, right?

My schedule is to leave Sunday morning, spend all day on planes and in airports after getting the customary pregnant-woman-who-refuses-to-use-the-body-scanner pat-down (Happy Mother’s Day to me!), arrive at night, film the next day from 9a.m.-4:30p.m., fly away that evening, doing the whole pat-down, airports, flights thing in reverse, and arriving home around midnight local time.

If this is what’s considered “living the life” of a writer, it might be overrated. And did I mention the flights I’ve been booked are on United? Heaven help me.

So I’m planning six outfits for being on-site less than 24 hours. The sixth outfit being my Read the rest of this entry

Turning in my introvert card

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Carrie Rubin, prepare to be amazed.

So y’all know of my great D.C. adventure where I gave a speech to some 200 people, right? You can read of my airport pat-down debacles here and here.

Well, guess what? I need to prepare for the frisking yet again! But it’s not for a talk this time. Oh no. It’s for television! Read the rest of this entry

That’s my girl.

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Middle Daughter is in 4th grade. A recent math assignment asked her to draw certain dots and make an observation about the pattern. Here’s the answer key:

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4. (a) shows the pattern; (d) shows “Possible observations” that can be made: “Each group of dots can be divided into a square and a right triangle; the difference between the total number of dots in each pair of terms increases as the pattern continues.”

Here’s my daughter’s answer sheet: Read the rest of this entry

WHAT did you just say?

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My oldest daughter’s birthday was  yesterday. My parents gave her a set of little chicks. (Random? I know.)

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Two are missing because they’re in need of repairs. Their wings fell off. I wonder how.

All three girls were playing with them for a bit when I heard my seven-year-old say something that sounded horribly suspicious.

“Here’s your (something starting with an f and ending with -king) chicks.” Read the rest of this entry

Getting frisked for the second time in three days

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airport-1895173_640At long last, part two. (If you missed part one, you may want to catch up.)

So, two days after flying into Dulles Airport in Washington, D.C., for my big speaking debut, it was time to fly home to the reality of my mommy existence. First order of business would be feeding my kids the vegetables they were likely missing for the past three days.

Walking into the airport with my trusty companion, I said to her, “It would be nice if I didn’t have to get frisked this time. I’m just not feeling up for that again.”

But it soon became apparent that security at Dulles was no joke, and the likelihood of me not getting frisked was dwindling with each TSA security agent we saw, the first ones being immediately upon entry.

Two were poised and ready to check our boarding passes and wave us through. Then we located our gate number and headed in the proper direction, only to come to security check number two. Here TSA used machines to scan our boarding passes.

Then on to security check number three. Despite the seriousness this place clearly gives its safety, I still held on to some hope I could avoid the pat-down. But once we entered the waving sea of security lines, all hope was lost.

Let me describe for you the security line in San Diego, my beloved city of origin: That’s just it–security LINE, as in singular. And it pretty much takes you to half the airport. Plus, even calling it a line is a bit much. We hardly had time to remove our shoes before it was our turn to go through. I suppose once people arrive in San Diego, they don’t want to leave.

aircraft-1526567_640But in Dulles there was an ocean of people in sixish lines weaving and winding to the point where you couldn’t tell where your lane was letting out. (Insert your own joke about trying to get out of D.C. here.)

When it was our turn to put our stuff on the conveyor belt, I noted that the posted TSA agent was literally getting paid to sit on a chair and people watch. He wasn’t making any announcements whatsoever about liquids, laptops, OR lozenges. (If that makes no sense, see previous post.) I told him I was preggo and didn’t want to go through the body scanner.

“There’s no x-rays, Ma’am.”

“So you’re able to see under people’s clothing by harnessing Superman’s powers?” Is what I wanted to say, but I know you don’t mess with TSA any more than you do TX, even this lazy TSA, so instead I answered, “I’d still rather not.”

“Then you’ll get a pat-down.”

“Couldn’t I just go through that?” gesturing in vain to the poor nearly discarded relic of a metal detector, left standing there just to mock the likes of me.

“No.”

And so I waited once again in disgrace to be called back for my humiliation. Then I caught sight of my tormentor. Read the rest of this entry

Fun writing contest from a fellow blogger

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All you writer types: Mike Allegra at “Hey look a fellow writer” is holding a writing contest for 200 words or less with a prize of $50 in various gift cards. Go here for all the details. And OMG, it’s actually “Hey look a writer fellow.” All this time I thought it was “a fellow writer.” Apparently I need to work on my reading as well as writing skills. Sorry, Mike.

Anyway, y’all, check it out!