Things I’ve learned in the airport today:

• People wear some pretty strange get-ups when they travel…it’s like watching a combination of Survivor and My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, with a healthy dose of Jersey Shore thrown in the mix.
• Many people forget that talking on their cell phones is not equivalent to being in a phone booth. The airport is a veritable hotbed of TMI.
• You can always spot the asshole who will be an overhead bin hog later…his sense of pompous urgency radiates clearly in the boarding line. He’ll also be the guy to shove his way to the front of the plane on landing,  just so he can be first in line for his gate-checked bag.
• People are fall into two camps: escalator or stairs. Oh, and those stair-climbing escalator rebels who get huffy when they want to walk up the escalator, and some stationary rider blocks their path to the top.
• Even when you project your best “leave me alone aura,” some bored, lonely traveler will see your solitude as a ready excuse to strike up unsolicited conversation.

I’ve been out of town this week, in what I hope will be my last business trip for a while. Traveling while pregnant has been about the most miserable experience I’ve had recently. Why?

Well, I’m pregnant enough to be perpetually exhausted, which makes this work-trip a herculean effort. I’m also unable to drink away my anxiety of flying, which as you can imagine, has made me an oh-so-pleasant person. My pregnant nose was sensitive enough that the stinky guy next to me on the plane had me dry heaving. And I’m putting down enough food at each meal to have bystanders looking at me like I’ve got some binge-eating problems.

To add insult to injury I’m not pregnant enough to have the obvious belly, so I get no sympathy in bathroom lines or help with my luggage.

When I first started my job, I thought the travel component would be somewhat exciting. I’d get to explore new cities, see new sites and discover fabulous food. I planned on taking tons of pictures and collecting exotic souvenirs for the heathens. We travelled quite often when I was a kid, and my parents really spoiled us by using even the smallest road trip as an opportunity to explore anything and everything off the beaten path. I thought I’d find a way to at least experience something unique on my trips, even if it was just eating at some fabulous hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

I obviously did not grasp the “work” concept of a business trip; I’m often lucky to see anything but the airport, my hotel room and whatever conference venue I’m there to work. I usually end up eating at only the restaurants within walking distance to my hotel (rental cars are a luxury I don’t have), and souvenirs consist of whatever I can hunt down in the airport gift shop.

So, I’m headed back home tomorrow, where I will kiss my boys, relish in the comfort of my house and sleep in my own bed. Let me tell you, after five days on the road, that sounds better than a double margarita.

But, I’d better hit the airport gift shop first.

My town has an extensive network of neighborhood libraries. However, each library branch is kind of on the small side, and book selection is sometimes limited. So, once I exhausted my local branch, I haven’t really been back to the library since.

Well, lo and behold, they now have an online system in which I can search all the books at all the libraries, then have my selections put on hold and transferred to my local branch. I guess they’ve had this for a while, but now with the automated system, I can put 20 books on hold in less than five minutes, all from my iPhone.

Needless to say, I have been to the library no less than six times in the past two weeks.

I bet the Book-Mobile people hate me right about now.

I spent all of last week in New Orleans for work, which meant that I spent the entire week before that trying to clear my desk of all outstanding tasks. Too much work makes me a dull, dull girl. My blog has turned into a neglected wasteland.

Though the trip was business as usual, I ate my fair share of oysters, shrimp and any other seafood that would stand still long enough for me to snatch it up. While I wallowed in good food, I also wallowed in the weather.

When I got to New Orleans, the first thing I noticed was that the temperature was at least 15 degrees cooler than my North Louisiana town. Better yet, it RAINED…like a lot! Considering that we haven’t seen more then 2 minutes of rain in at least a month, I was almost dumbstruck by the falling water from the sky. Between the rain and clouds, the temperature was certainly summer-like, but nothing compared to the drought-infested, near-desert that has become my home town. As I drove home, I actually watched the temperature reading in my car dash creep up 20 degrees as I made my way back north, landing squarely at 105 degrees by day’s end.

As my town marks its’ ba-gillionth day of heat over 100 degrees, and never-ending heat advisories, I feel like I’m at my wits’ end. Do you KNOW what happens to two energetic boys that are confined to the house and cannot play outside in the 115 degree heat index inferno? HORROR, I tell you, HORROR! To make matters worse, I am in my full blown, sick-of-summer hissy fit that usually doesn’t crop up until late August. If the snarly hissy-fit-of-doom is already upon me, how will I survive another two months of summer heat? Yep, it’s my own version of Seasonal Affective Disorder.

So, I guess it’s time to engage in a little distraction therapy. I’ll ogle my fall cookbooks, get started on some handmade Christmas gifts and hit up the library for every fall and holiday related book I can fine. Maybe if I bury my brain in images of fall, winter and fun, my body will forget the fact that it’s about to have a heatstroke.

Summer arrived with a vengeance this week. The yo-yo of Spring’s pleasant, then hot, then pleasant again weather has settled into simply sweltering. Though my disdain of Summer has lessened over the past two years, I still get a little bummed out knowing that we’re in for 95+ degree days from now until late October. Not to mention the 105 degree/100 percent humidity days of July and August that are just around the corner. After two months of lingering on the porch, playing in the garden and wallowing in the sun, I always feel a bittersweet sadness when I finally admit that uncomfortable sweat will be a daily battle from here on out, and my hair will be in a perpetual bun for the next four months. I won’t even get into the terror that will be my electric bill from my air conditioner’s futile attempts to keep my 100 year-old home tolerable…that’s the stuff of nightmares.

To combat my dread of Louisiana’s perpetual heat and humidity, I am trying to remind myself of some of the things I love about summer. A “psych myself up” plan, if you will:

• Lake Days!!! What’s better on a lazy summer weekend than a trip to the lake? It’s a cheap way to get the kids out of the house and active.
• J’s new home includes a pool, within walking distance of her fridge full of cocktails.
• What’s better than a fresh, ripe, homegrown tomato? I can’t wait to make Gran’s fresh tomato dip, tomato pie and a smoked Gouda, bacon and tomato sandwich.
• I get to sleep an hour later, since I don’t have to take the heathens to school at the butt-crack.
• More grilling! I love my grill more than my husband does, and I am always looking for a good excuse to heat it up, rather than my kitchen.
• Summer reading, trips to the library and sitting by the pool with a great book…assuming the heathens stop trying to drown each other long enough for me to read a page.
• Holiday planning—I always try to get the jump on holiday planning and shopping during summer, because I have more time to think and imagine.

I may not be able to escape of suffocating heat in the months to come, but I will do my darndest to look on the bright side and enjoy it.

Besides, I have a stack of coupons for antiperspirant, I like within five minutes of a drive-up daiquiri, and I can always slap on my NSU cap if the hair situation gets too bad.

Being the wife of a closet computer geek, as well as the mother of two boys, video games are ever-present at my house. Don’t get me wrong, I grew up playing Nintendo in its’ various forms, and have been known to play the Legend of Zelda for an hour…or five…but whatever. However, my guys take to video gaming the way other boys do to sports. They play video games, they talk about video games and they reference video games so often it’s like we have our own secret language.

As for me, my video game time has certainly declined over the years. I’m a working mom, and I have more important things to do…like cooking, cleaning, brushing my teeth and finding time to beat back my sentient laundry pile.

But then came the iPhone…oh, how I love my iPhone. It has all kind of nifty games, and they are great for waiting in line, which is something I’ve never been very good at. My handy-dandy iPhone has saved me from going batty at the doctor’s office and the dreaded DMV. After chastising my husband for a year that he needed to put the dang phone down, I have now become just as attached to my phone as he was…a fact about which he loves to remind me…the booger. Ok, not really, because he definitely has a point, and turn-about is fair play.

If having my addiction-inducing iPhone was not enough, my kids introduced me to the most ridiculous game ever: Plants Versus Zombies.

This entire game is based on the premise that cartoon plants must defend your house against cartoon zombies. It’s cute…in a must-be-laced-with-crack-because-it’s-so-addicting kind of way. I confess that, after watching my kids and husband cackle like loons over this computer game, I had to try it. I just hated being left out, and I wanted to know what all the dang fuss was about. But, alas, I didn’t have time to sit in front of the computer…I get enough of that at the office. Then, my boys informed me that I could play it on my iPhone…and that was all she wrote.

If you need me, I’ll be under my desk with a Diet Coke and my phone. Just don’t tell anyone I told you.

This has not been my week…to say the least.

On any given day, being a working mom is challenging enough. Days are spent juggling, prioritizing and feeling like something is always slipping through the cracks. However, with a good sense of humor and a little forced perspective, I usually do pretty well at rolling with the punches.

This week, I can fairly say that I’ve had enough, thank-you-very-much. Enough of things like a kid that gets sick (AGAIN!!!) the day after spring break ends…or the power company wanting to cut down all the 100 year-old trees in my yard…or an extra large helping of stress in my already high-stress job…or coming home to find my front door mysteriously wide open…or realizing my youngest was using my purse for a foot-rest and now its’ contents are full of sandy dirt…yeah…enough of all that please.

Sooooo, after a few days of being a grouchy, snarly mess, I am ready to snap out of it. It’s time to kick this funk in the pants! After all, tomorrow is Friday, and what better time for a serious attitude adjustment? The last time this bad funk happened, my husband gave me a beer, the kids’ Scout bow and arrows, and he set me up a target in the backyard. I shot that poor paper target to pieces, but I must admit, I sure did feel better afterward.

While I don’t plan on shooting up the backyard today, I’m going to get through work, dance around my kitchen while I make dinner, and tickle my kids until they are in danger of vomiting…ok, not really, but you get the idea.

You have your husband buy a Godiva chocolate bunny, and immediately bite its’ freaking ears off in a display of rabid, aggressive insanity.

The bunny had it coming….

Or at least, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.