another call for "sandra" today. it's either sandra or sondra depending on how sultry the voice is on the other line. c'mon internet, help me find out who this person is. i grow ever more curious with each call and have even been so bold to ask the people calling if they had a last name of this sandra person. i guess the next logical step is to tell them she's not available and see if they maybe want to book and appointment (if you know what i mean). all i do know about this person is that the men are desperately trying to get a hold of her. they double check the phone number. yep, you dialed the right one. nope sandra is not here, wait lemme look in my bedroom....nope don't see her. no, i do not have a forwarding number. i'm damn near ready to find her myself just to see what kind of skillz this lady (or man, since we do live in san francisco you know) has.

on another note. i'm really beginning to hate the airport. i feel violated everytime i go. you're corralled into these long security lines only to be forced to take off you shoes, belt, sweater, jacket, or other article of clothing that may be hiding a weapon of mass destruction. at least they've changed the metal detectors so that the wire in my bra doesn't set it off anymore. not only are you half naked, but you're rushed down the line only to gather your things and have to walk to some tucked away corner to redress. on top of it human beings, growing ever more disrespectful of each other, try to cram in the lines and steal stupid plastic bins from each other. one woman said to her daughter (after standing in the middle of the security isle with a dumbfounded look on her face), "let's get in line before everyone else does". way to teach your kid to be a survivor mom. i swear it's a war zone every time.

then at the gate, oh lordy. never mind any order they try to board people on the plane. people just get in line. no rules. i was in line to board the plane, the last group to board, meaning no preferential treatment. first class and special needs passengers had already boarded 20 minutes prior. i was last in line because, hey, who wants to sit on the plane longer than they have to. a man and woman got in line a couple of minutes after i did. then proceeded to cut in front of me. i think they could sense my frustration from the numerous evil glances i kept shooting at them. she said to her husband, "you should go first because you're premiere". HA! premiere. little did she know there was an open invitation to kiss my premiere ass. when we got to the ticket checker i went to hand my ticket over and the woman put her hand over mine forcing her ticket into the checker's hand. we were last in line. LAST IN LINE! i said, very audibly, "well then. allright." then her husband, still behind me, proceeds to do the same thing. i stepped back behind him completely dumbfounded and just looked at him. he waived me to go ahead and i just shook my head, unable to grasp what was actually taking place. i guess chivalry is only half dead. so it's the wife, me, the husband. all in this long, unmoving line of people trying to get on the plane. she keeps looking back at him like, "dear? why are you standing behind that economy class girl?!" i had to hang back and let him go around me so that he could stand next to Prudence Goodwife up there. it was that or ask him if he wanted to lambada since we were walking so closely together. when we finally got up to the gate of the plane, their seats are in the first row. i mean, thee very first row. and come on, your damn seat number is printed on the ticket. it's dummyproof. he flashes his ticket to the stewardess and says, "i'm premiere. i have premiere seating".

then it hit me that maybe he had premiere seating and it dawned on the rest of the passengers in the plane that, yes indeed, he and his wife were premiere, and they were sitting in the first row, and they were important. and in unison everyone stood up and began to applaude. the captain came out of the cockpit, shook the man's hand, and uncorked a bottle of champagne. they were presented with honorary premiere badges, premiere pillows, premiere cashmere blankets, and premiere steak and lobster. i think i heard one steardess offer to get on all fours and act as a premiere footrest.

i'll remember to upgrade next time i fly.