Karlee May... has a terrorist ring to it, yes?

True Story: (as are all my blog posts. just sayin')

A few years ago, perhaps '06 or '07, I took my boyfriend at the time (for the sake of the story we'll call him Fish) to Vegas for his birthday to see his favorite show, among other things. It was 100% a surprise trip. I called into his boss and secretly requested he have the time off. The day before the trip I told him what kind of weather to and how many days to pack for.

He didn’t know where we were going until we got to the Boise Airport, and again didn’t know what for until the night that I had tickets to the show, etc...

Anyway, we had a fun few *spendy* days in good ol' Las V and alas, it was time to head back to Boise.

We get to the airport, and I am immediately sad at how much busier it is than BOI. So we wait...and wait.... and wait in line for the security check. FINALLY we get to the front of the line to go through the beeper/scanner/"take-off-your-shoes-because-of-course-your-walking-on-your-bomb" area. I walk up to security man first... good to go. Then fish.

Immediately security man tells me to hold it. (yes he says "hold it"... of course initially I am thinking "hold what?!"...realizing he means "hold on.")

Fish's ID was expired according to Nevada Travel Law. Not Idaho, Nevada.

Apparently this means, yes, we are considered High Terrorist Threats.

Now, I am not sure how many of you have been considered High Terrorist Threats, but let me tell you-NO GOOD.

We both had to be police escorted down another aisle-past everyone who is waiting in line who now THINKS we are terrorists-, down another long hall, and into a funky room. In said room is a giant glass tank(for lack of a better word), and the ONLY other people besides us, police, and more police, is a family of 5 looking/sounding to be straight from Afghanistan. #SNAP! #RUDE

.. Again we wait in line. And my clothes go into a third line, to be swabbed and tested and picked at for god knows what. So in my line, of course ladies first, they instruct me to take off most my clothes (YEP!) and step into the glass tank. I have to stand with my feet EXACTLY on the footprints, hold my hands EXACTLY where it is marked. Doing so, the bomb test begins. My entire body got blasted from every direction by air bullets! One air bullet hit me on the top of the head, flipping a piece of my hair into my eyes. So what do I do?! I blow the hair chuck off my face. Bad Idea. This set off all the alarms in the tank. By blowing the hair off my face and out of my eyes, apparently I could have been telling my inner bomb to not go off.
So AGAIN I get metal baton-ed as I stand there practically naked -arms up in the air, legs spread, the alarms are going off and everyone is staring at me. (I consider what I was wearing to be naked considering I was in the middle of an airport- I want to clarify I was not 100% literally in my birthday suit.)
The baton does not pick up any bomb signs so I have to go back into the glass tank. This time they ask me if I understand them when they tell me not to move a god d*mn inch. Yep- pretty sure I freakin get that at this point.
... Much to my surprise (NOT) they re-air bullet test me, finish testing my clothes and decide I was not a threat to THIS flight. (I say THIS flight because there is more...)

They give Fish a similar test and tell us never to travel with an expired ID again. They let us go and escort us to our gate. Funny, the person I was right behind before being escorted away was waiting at the same gate to come home! The area we were standing cleared out pretty dang fast. This one punk kid asked me what we got in trouble for, and I said they thought we were terrorists because of an expired ID not to worry, I was BOMB FREE! *This is not to be mistaken with that I am "the bomb"*

... No issues on flights until...
This last spring I decided to go to the lovely Kauai, Hawaii with a friend of mine. Way back to Idaho, I AGAIN had to go to a special screening. They tested my shoes, clothes, and items in my carry on quite the same way as they did in the city that never sleeps. Coincidence?! I think not.

My friends, I am THE BOMB.

Allergic to Life

...It was mentioned again the other night that I am Allergic To Life. Yes, I know I am. Some of you are starting to pick up on it too :)

Just for the sheer fun of things, here is yet ANOTHER example of this:

This November will be the 2 year anniversary of losing my face. Honest. I purchased and wore (like the fun, team spirit girl I am) the Sticks of Blue & Orange face paint from the BSU Bronco Shop, so i could show my school spirit at a home game. I wore it right under my eyes- traditional "war paint" styyle...

about end of first quarter i started to itch...

and right about 1/2 time, my friend told me I really should "Look in the mirror."

Needless to say, I did. AND immediatly went home to take the paint off.

(*Here we go- brace yourselves*)

This is the moment I literally wiped off my face.

It hurt more than it even looks like it did.

This is one side of my face, about 6 hours after. It gets worse...

This is a "morning after" shot. I woke up and yes, I had 3rd degree burns on both my cheeks.

This is the Right side 3rd degree burn. Day 2

This is the Left Side 3rd Degree Burn...

Yes, This is 3 MONTHS after. I could not wash my face for the entire healing time. Had to wear NO makeup-None-all i got to do was put the prescription from my doctor on it and i could put straight Vitamin-E oil to keep it from pulling and scaring. I had to sit there and let the scabs come off "at their own will." (THAT is disgusting, i know)


-It took off all my freckles (no worry they are back now).

-I STILL can not put my face under hot water.

-I didnt scar (thank goodness), but its still sensitive.
-It took 6 months to heal completely and my cheeks still hurt. Certain products

~Allergic to Life~

I HIT WHAT?!

This morning while getting my coffee so I could be uber productive at work, i met in the hall a face Icould not place. (Hate it when that happens, by the by.) He obviously recognized me as well, and as we walked past each other with a mere "good morning" I started to put the ol' thinkin cap on. It can be extremely difficult to place someone when they are out of their normal areas, not going to lie. ...SO as I grab my straw it hits me. That was the dude from the horrible 7-11 slurpee run! Having just talked about my need to blog last night while wine&gaming with my friends, I thought this was someone up there's way of saying- tell THAT story. so now ya get it:

A few summers ago I got a narsty case of the strep. Staying home and resting OBVIOUSLY didn’t do the trick, so I took my better shoulder angel's advice and went to party the sick right out. That night=fun. Next morning=not so much. Felt like a million people scraped my throat with forks. Remedy for swollen, sore throat?!... SLURPEE.

So, i grab my roommate at the time and we hung-overly walk to my car to drive to the 7-11. Get there, and as I am pulling in to the 2nd spot from the left, I notice homeless man sitting on curb. and he has the look of fear on his dirty weathered face. Doing the extremely noticeable :look-at-me, look-at-the-car, look-at-me" thing with his head, I look at my roommate and ask her wtf is going on with curb-man. I decide to go with my better judgment and still get out to get a slurpee. When I stand up out of my car, the homeless guy points at my car and literally says
"WHAT THE F*CK DID YOU HIT?!"
... guy could tell I am super confused at this point and so he shakes his finger at my car and says "DID YOU HIT SOMEONE?"

Spinning around I look at my car. Sure as shit there is a crap ton of HAIR coming out of the tire well and across the lower side of the car. Not going to lie, i freaked.
Immediately I start running through the night.
*did I let someone drive my car?...no
*did I drive my car after drinking downtown? ....NO
*does someone have the other set of keys?...NO!
*Did I see any dead animals around my car this morning?...NO!!

... I am at a loss and I did not know what to do. But there is no doubt that there is blond hair all over my business.
Extremely out of it I walk into the gas station to collect my thoughts and figure out what to do.
shaking=check.
crying=check.
worried=check. WTF!
... that’s when the guy from the coffee shop this morning comes into play. HE was the cashier.
He sees me freaking and does the "ma'am, is there something Ican help you with?"
of course, I say, "there is something on my car. I think I hit something, but I cant remember. "
then I tell him the curb man pointed it out and says it looks like human hair and I was freaking too much to check it out and i asked the cashier what I should do. He jumps the counter and runs out there, and honest to god covers his mouth and turns away. I thought he was going to throw up. He turns back around, kneels down, and sticks his hand up under the car and starts pulling out the hair. and more hair and more hair and finally, a piece of the source of the hair.
A freaking Barbi head.
OMG
i ran over a clan of barbies and their stupid plastic hair static stuck to my car. Cashier starts crying he’s laughing so hard. really, everyone starts laughing...except me. all I can think is "you have GOT to be kidding me."

Cashier guy gave me my slurpee for free that day. the jumbo size in a Simpson's squishee collectors cup. Still have the cup.
I hate barbies.