There is something so romantic to me about flying. Maybe it's the odd architecture of the airports, the idea that a few steps from where you are standing you can board a plane that will take you: on vacation, to a love, far from love, home, some place new, some place familiar. The people, the faces, the different languages, the rush of some, the eased pace of other, I simply adore it.....

"BAG CHECK ON CAROUSEL 9"

wait that is my bag, I was just lost in a day dream of how great this place is....this isn't great, TSA is cranky! and needs a hair update stat!

"Ma'am is this your bag?....Are you aware that the liquid limit is 3.4 oz?.....This is way more than that", she yammers as she recovers my nalgene filled with water. {give me a break I only slept 2 hours and I left for the Boston airport at 4am, normally I am better than this}

so what do I do, take the nalgene, take the top off, and proceed to swallow it's entire contents in a single motion. I handed her the back the empty bottle, gave her a little nod...no eye contact just a nod....zipped up my bag, and was on my way.