Do You Know the Way to Hou-oo-ston?

She packed my bags last night pre-flight
Zero hour nine a.m.
And I’m gonna be high as a kite by then
I miss the earth so much I miss my wife
It’s lonely out in space
On such a timeless flight
 
And I think it’s gonna be a long long time
Till touch down brings me round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no I’m a rocket man
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone
 
 Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise your kids
In fact it’s cold as hell
And there’s no one there to raise them if you did
And all this science I don’t understand
It’s just my job five days a week
 
Rocket Man - Bernie Taupin/Elton John
 

The premise:
Yes, I am a savvy, sophisticated, chic, cosmopolitan, world traveler. Don't look at me like that!!! What? Oh, dear. 1985 called? What did they say? What? Braniff wants their frequent flyer miles back? Ouch. Now, that hurts!
 
Hear's the deal. I am NOT complaining!!! I'm a rules girl. If it's in the by-laws, I will do it. Stop signs? Color me stopped. Deadline? Got it. Speed limit? No worries. And, those are my "safely on land" rules! My "up in the air" rules are even better! What with the ugliness and wickedness in the world, I not only agree with but applaud any and all airport safety measures. Again - I not only agree with but applaud any and all airport safety measures. Still, though......for reals???
 
The prequel:
I live in Dallas. The Big D. DFW. Da Metroplex. Enough. I had to go to (drumroll)...Houston!!! I was traveling on company time and funds, so who was I to have a list of demands? I was ELATED, in fact!! Why, 'lil ole me? Goin' on a mahvelous trip? Why, I'll just have the grandest ole time! I'll buy all those cute little empty bottles and funnel my bougie shampoo and conditioner in them. I'll take a week's worth of books. A month ago, I started an outline of outfits: 1 for departure, 1 for each day, 1 for funsies, options for my pj's.....you get the picture. I got a little out of control (imagine that). Still, planner that I am, I packed, folded, and planned myself the perfect little work get-a-away ever planned. Go me!
 
The set up:
The Fast forward past: amazing hotel, great seminar, wonderful training material, incomprehensibly delish (FREE) hot appetizers and WINE each night, A ROOM WITH A WOOD FLOOR ENTRY AND GRANITE COUNTERTOPS.....my ship finally came in! End result? It came in, alright. Then it sailed...without me!
 
The funny part:​
I had to come home. (Just wait, ok, it's not funny YET). I finished the meeting. I changed into the "return flight outfit" per the outline tucked away in side pocket suitcase (not too hoochie, not too matronly, Golilocks says this is juussst right). Shuttle was early. Ticket counter was empty. Smooth as buttah. Till I got to security.
 
1.The agent that had to clear me to enter the security area misread my last name. I said Moon. She said no. I said WRONG. She said SAY WHAT. I smiled and quadruple blinked my eyes (internal reset button). I squinched my nose up in my cutest, perkiest, Meg Ryan wannabe look. We started over. Whew!!!
2. I used 3 buckets: 1 for jewelry and various/sundry other metal objects, 1 for my ipad and iphone (Apple, check goes in mail now, please), & one for purse and carry-on. I so rock the security process!!!
3. I look up and see (gulp) the body scanner. I've heard about these. They're evil. I'll be able to talk to martians and get radio stations through my fillings after this. Never fear, though, cause savvy, sophisticated, chic, cosmopolitan, world traveling Dina is here!!!!!! I smile (again), squinch my perky nose up (again), and quadruple blink my eyes (again). Deep, cleansing breath. And.......
4. I step into Jetson's living room gadget. It looks like Arthur Murray was held captive in there! I see the huge yellow footprints. I step into them looking like I'm going to do a cross between the electric slide and the Rocky Horror Picture Show Time Warp.
5. When my Jetson's tube opens, I flip around like I'm about to do the 2nd Macarena and look the security man in the eyes. He's not smiling back at me. His nose isn't squinched. He looks......non-plussed (maybe even slightly irked?)
 
The finale:
Don't wear designer jeans with crystalized, studded, super-shiny, back pocket flaps.
A. They show up on a scan quite similar to other small, rectangle shaped, mysterious metal objects.
B. When you see the group of security guys gathered in front of the monitor, DON'T LOOK! Your glittery, crystalized, metallic derriere looks like planet EARTH! Those two things that look like TWIN NORTH AMERICAS ARE YOUR POCKETS! YOUR BOOTY IS BIGGER THAN RHODE ISLAND IN REAL TIME.                                      
 
The Prologue:
The author hopes everyone understands and embraces her love for airport security. She also hopes you leave with these amazing insights: no one cares about your bougie shampoo and departure outfits, next time pack sweats for the return flight, and MEG RYAN ISN'T COOL ANYMORE!
 
Until next time - thank you for flying in my friendly sky!