Heading home

This morning (at four fricking 30) on the way to the Denver International Airport Nicole and I were chuckling at some friends’ past misfortunes.

One had once missed a flight by mixing up 12 a.m. and 12 p.m.; another almost went to the airport two evenings in a row by confusing 12 a.m. on Wednesday with 12 a.m. on Thursday.

Both are easily made mistakes a.m. and p.m., noon and midnight. I’ve gotten them confused on other occasions, though none so catastrophic as to miss a flight.

Nicole and I got to the airport together at 5:15 but were taking different flights, so we parted ways and I went over to American Airlines to check in and print my boarding pass.

Departure: 6:10 a.m.
Boarding time: 5:40 a.m.

What?! Now it was 5:22 a.m.

Turns out I’d confused 6 a.m. with 7 a.m., which seems like it would far more difficult to do than to mix up 12 a.m. and 12 p.m.

Guess that’s what I get for rolling my eyes at others’ debacles. Damn karma.

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Renewing my vow

About two years ago I promised myself that I would never again buy chapstick.

After acquiring another six free sticks of SPF-ed lip balm thanks to Boulder’s annual Bike to Work Day (my favorite holiday), I hereby renew that promise:

I, Courtney Holden, aspiring professional journalista, hereby promise, once again to, from hereafter, never
again purchase a product that coats my lips.
/s/ Courtney Holden

(I’d sign here, but I can’t figure out how to change my font to something in cursive.:

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Q-Tip apprehensions

Have you ever noticed that there’s an direct warning on a box of Q-Tips not to insert them into your ear canal?

Start singing "Jaws" theme song in your head ... now. Pic from Tamakisono on Flickr.

I believe there are many oddities wrapped into this single fact.

First of all: Who would have thought that a docile container of cotton-covered sticks no longer than my index finger would need a caution label.

But other than that, let’s examine methods of ear wax removal.

Now I remember hearing stories about my Grandpa Gene, and how he used scissors to dig out that amber substance. To me, sticking something sharp and pointy with cutting as a generally accepted reason for usage into an orifice that must lead somehow into or close to one’s brain seems like a bad idea.

Sticking a soft, fluffy, fits-into-my-ear-like-a-glove item into that same hole … well, it just seems natural.

Warning or no warning … I’m going in for the wax. And I’m using a Q-Tip to do it.

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Text messaging is evil … sort of

Need more proof that text messaging is a passive-aggressive form of communication?Looks like it might be relaxing, huh? "Might" being the key word there. Thanks garycycles on Flickr.

Here’s a for-instance for you.

Consider Mike who opted to warn with his roommate textually, instead of verbally, last night about the sprinkler system around their new apartment.

That choice resulted William’s disturbance this morning around 5 a.m. by a stream of water and what I can only imagine was a hurried exit from his hammock.

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Read this now because I may die soon

I’ve been going through old water and sanitation records this morning for my gig with I News.
As I’m sifting through old files filled with piles of papers, I lick my fingers in order to peruse the sheets more quickly.
Which makes me wonder: I’m sure this isn’t the first time somebody has looked through these files. And likely, they were using the same finger-lick flipping method that I am.
Which means I may well contract some wacked out disease that’s been lying dormant and unassuming for the past 15 years.
Awesome.
The things I do in the name of journalism.

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