vella.jpg I hate moving. I hate moving so much that when I left Manhattan in 2003, I hastily shoved everything in storage near Chelsea. It’s still there.

I think my reluctance to pack a suitcase might be related to the sheer panic and anxiety I experience whenever I have to move. Something about carefully folding and arranging items in boxes freaks me out, man.

This is the explanation I gave my long-suffering Mummy last week when I was at home in California. I was scheduled to leave for the airport at 7pm and I hadn’t packed as of 6:15. Of course, I ended up hastily tossing everything in, cringing at how my clothes were getting abused, how my jewelry would be a tangled mess by the time I got back to DC, how I would surely forget something. I threw everything on my bathroom counter in my cosmetics bag, zipped it and hoped for the best.

8pm. Security. I’ve padded through the gate barefoot and I’m trying not to think about what sorts of germs I’m walking on while I wait for my bag to leave the X-ray…

“Ma’am? Would you mind coming with me?”

Nope. I don’t mind at all. I’m brown, but I have nothing to hide. It’s been years. I know to just expect this routine. I grab my prrrecious iBook and follow him to a table. He’s poking my carry-on gingerly, a worried look distorting his face.

“Is there anything in your bag which would harm me?” he asks, and I shake my head negatively. That’s a new one. Never been asked THAT before. Weird. He asks again and finally, a third time.

“This is your chance to tell me,” he elaborates. He almost sounds menacing. I’m thinking, wtf?

He declares, “I think there are scissors in here.” matter-of-factly. I start to laugh; I suddenly know what he might be referring to— my tried-and-true Shu Uemura eyelash curler. The bottom part of it does look scissor-y. I start to explain this to him, giggling all the while when he stops rummaging and yanks out a pair of scissors. Oy. So much for packing in a hurry. The scissors go in the trash and I sheepishly skulk to my gate, cheeks ablaze.

I really shouldn’t have been so mortified; sometimes, you just end up accidentally packing shit you shouldn’t.

An Oklahoma man told federal investigators he forgot a pipe bomb he built for fun was in his luggage when tried to board an airplane, according to court documents released on Thursday.
Charles Alfred Dreyling Jr., 24, was charged on Thursday with trying to carry the bomb aboard a Delta Airlines flight from Oklahoma City to Atlanta on Wednesday, according to the documents. [Link]

The pipe bomb was filled with gunpowder, its detonator was created via parts for model rockets. Using a ubiquitous object— the battery from a mobile phone—it would have been easy to set it off.

The University of Oklahoma student apparently makes bombs for gits and shiggles. He

recently set off several devices with friends in rural Oklahoma, according to the affidavit. [Link]

I can’t stop thinking cynically about how this story would’ve been reported if the perp involved had been more swarthy. Furry. Brown.

:+:

P.S. Dearest Sonia, thanks for the tip.