tide stick failure

Yesterday I arrived home from 4 days in Orlando. So much walking. I’m still queasy from roller coaster 🎢 rides and inevitably getting gluten contaminated. It was a glorious time and I love my family tribe. I adored seeing Daigon Alley. 

I want to share a story from the Orlando airport yesterday. The line at the TSA security was wayyyy shorter than I thought it would be. We saw it when we landed, it was long. So hubs and I are chugging bubbly waters and Starbucks canned double shots while walking briskly snaking through the lanes towards the checkpoint. My last sip of the double shot, I dribbled. I rushed my triumphant can toss and received a coffee spot on my white t-shirt. Feeling FLY that I knew right where my Tide stick was, in my bag of liquids, of course! I pull that out and before the coffee even dries I’m dabbing away. 

I’m feeling like a MAMA BOSS! Then I smell something. It smells like cheese. Like stinky cheese. I apply some Tide Stick to my hand 🖐. I pull it up to my nose and dear lawd, it smells like rotten cheese. I now smell like rotten cheese. I have dabbed rotten tide stick on my shirt right under my own damn nose 👃🏼. 

We’re now approaching the conveyor belt. I grab my Alaffia coconut face toner, also, conveniently located in my liquids bag. I spray the shit out of my shirt; trying to mask the vomit 🤮 rotten cheese smell coming from my V neck. “Y’all! I stink! Do you smell rotten cheese!!?” 

We get through security. I continue to apply the lavender hand sanitizer every few minutes while we ride the shuttle and once more while in line at the rest room. I can still smell rotten Tide Stick. After I relieve myself, I wash my hands. (Can we side bar for a minute, ladies, over the 40 years of my life, I can’t believe how many women just walk right out after the stall. 🤯) Finally, I get some water onto a paper towel. Success! The smell is gone. 

Moral of the story, wash your hands. And check your Tide Stick. But seriously,  I love love love these moments when I think “I got this! Look at me rocking it!” Then BOOM. My natural goober, nerd, uncool, “not put together” self comes racing right back. 

I am reminded of the moment when I was 23 and was ascending the steps of my Mecca (at the time! Don’t judge!), the MTV offices in LA. I had wanted to work in television. I had worked for MTV real world in Austin for a hot minute. In that moment, I was achieving a dream of mine! I was going to their offices! I was so excited, I was running up the steps. And, you guessed it, I fell the fuck down on my hands and knees. When I rolled over, people had assembled around me and I was in hysterics. Laughing. I was diabolically laughing. 

That is me. I fall when I am running to places I’m excited to be at. 

That is me. Trying to fix a coffee stain, feeling fly that I got my shit together. Only to make myself smell like I’m smuggling cheese from 3 weeks ago, in my bra. 

This is me. This Tide Stick story, is the story I want to share from my vacation.