But swearing at Delta Airlines Automated Attendent gets you forwarded to a live operator.

I have only tried real swearing, but perhaps cartoon swearing would work as well.

I feel the need to clarify this.

Things go my way so much of the time that when they don’t, I usually just take my lumps. You can’t win ’em all.

I am not above crying, if I’m upset enough, but it’s usually not necessary. I am far more inclined to hoist my short self up on the counter and tell whomever’s giving me the ag to see here now, or to get on the phone and offer to come help whoever them is figure it out and get me to yes.

I am unusually blessed or charmed or whatever you call it. Life’s been good to me, and I like to share it and I like to help and see others succeed.

I am also exceedingly fortunate that my friends and family pretty much shake their heads and think, “I’m just going to love her anyway.”

I am, in fact, a Doer.

One of the funniest things I have ever personally witnessed was a friend of mine, who is a psychologist, trying to buy a ticket at the airport. Her wallet had been stolen, so she didn’t have a credit card again yet. She wrote a check and produced her driver’s license. The ticket agent started giving her the business about accepting her check. Before I knew what had happened, she had hoisted herself up on the counter and said, “Listen! I am a DOCTOR! You can take this check, and if you don’t hurry up about it, I’m going to make a Very Big Scene.” She got the ticket.

One of the funniest things I’ve ever heard was when Trace had the staph infection a follicle in her nose. The PA had lanced it, but only partially, thus it was still swelling, and the antibiotics weren’t doing anything. Trace has lymphedema, so when she gets an infection, it’s worse than when, say, I get one, because her lymphatic system doesn’t drain. I had gone over to take her out for lunch, but she was just miserable. I looked up her nose with the flashlight and could see that it looked like a grape in there. She got on the phone and was talking to the PA, who was telling her to give the antibiotics time to work. All of a sudden, Trace says, “Kiss my fat ass, bitch. I’m coming in now.” She attributes this to the pain pills, but I don’t care, she’s still my hero. I took her to the doctor and she asked if I was coming in with her; I just said, “nooo, but you call on the cell when you’re done and I’ll come get you.” She called me about 20 minutes later and told me they were going in again, only from the outside of her nose, near the bridge, and had told her to take half a lortab and wait, but what she wanted to know was should she take 2. I told her maybe one. She split the difference and took three.

Neither of these women, by the way, would ever act this way unless it were a dire emergency.