. . . called Texas. I was born in Texas (Gulf Coast), grew up in Texas (hill country), was an undergrad in Texas (Houston). Heat and humidity are simple facts of life in Texas. You don't even question them; they just are. Then I moved to San Diego for grad school and discovered dry skin heaven. Good hair days! Makeup that didn't melt off of my face! No A/C!--I was able to sleep without an air conditioner in August for the first time in my life. And I became spoiled. So spoiled that I decided to move to New England after graduating in order to try something new, to experience that strange concept called "seasons." I've been here in the northeast for almost ten years and am planning a move back to Texas in a few months--Austin this time--and the one thing, the ONLY thing I will miss about this area is the seasons--nice short summers and disgustingly invigorating autumns and springs. God I will miss them. I am indeed a masochist, but sometimes, inexplicably, the need for home is stronger than the need to not sweat a lot. Goodbye, autumn.

In my electronic mailbox still sits a letter from a major North American airline. In this e-mail, I am told that I have passed the initial screening and am eligible to travel to their hub to interview/audition for a position in a future flight attendant training class. This is the third such letter I have received in as many months.

See, in moments of weakness/boredom with current secretarial job, I find myself applying to airlines online. I was a brand new flight attendant with the silver birds when 9/11 happened; predictably, I was one of the first put on furlough about a month later. Nasty thing is, I flew just long enough to get a taste of it and find out that I really liked it. Dammit. And it doesn't help that my husband and I are serious wanderlusters.

However, I am a practical, reasonable, intelligent, sane person who now, after six years of layman flying as a passenger, detests airports. The inconvenience and inanity brought about by stupid cardboard cutout rules put in place--and enforced--all for the sake of my "safety". . .

My husband and I flew from Sydney to L.A. last year right after the London liquid bomb scare. This is a 14-hour flight. I had a rotten cold. My liquid cold capsules were confiscated at a second security checkpoint at the gate. I suppose I should have been grateful that the flight was a lot safer because of the absence of my liquid cold capsules, but I was too miserable to think of that at the time.

Thank you, Patrick, for today's column. You have saved me.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few e-mails in my inbox awaiting deletion.

I agree with Cary's advice; however, as he didn't address the issue of your future SIL bringing her newborn to the wedding, I will. Welcome BIL and SIL with open, gracious arms; however, politely yet firmly request (insist?) that the child stays home. I think this is a perfectly reasonable compromise.

. . . Buzzcocks!

It had to happen sooner or later.

The Boston Red Sox have officially become nothing more than an exurb of the metropolitan area known as The Evil Empire.

I vote for:

FOX to voluntarily give up broadcasting rights to any and all sports currently broadcasted on said network.

Especially baseball.

I'm a furloughed American Airlines flight attendant who pursued the job in the first place because I loved to travel (please note usage of past tense).

I have an adventuresome husband who is lucky enough to have a job that accomodates his wanderlust. Being the great guy that he is, he invites me on these trips, and I accompany him whenever I can get time off from my current job.

He is going overseas to Athens and Amsterdam next month, and he has also offered to treat me to a week in Paris after his work commitments are complete. I have never been to any of three said cities, I have always wanted to visit all three cities, AND I can take the time off from work. Sounds like a done-deal-dream-come-true, right? Wrong. He's going alone.

Why? I can't take it anymore. Just last week we returned from a trip to Australia. At the final security checkpoint I had confiscated: liquid cold capsules (sealed in their original package!), liquid Advil capsules, and vitamin E and fish oil supplements. This on top of not being allowed to bring deoderant, toothpaste, hand cream, and other assorted toiletries on a 14-hr flight from Sydney to LAX has left me more than a bit disgruntled at the absurdity and inanity of airline "safety" procedures.

I haven't worked the skies for going on five years, yet it still amazes me--Americans and their need for a semblance of safety. I've accepted all along that we have never been, nor shall we ever be, 100% "safe," whether in the air or on the ground or on the seas.

I resent having my intelligence insulted. Confiscate my cold capsules and tell me I'm all the safer for it? Oh, the inanity.

I used the Pill for almost all of my 20s before deciding to give my body (and bank account) a break at 31. I've had my ParaGard now for two years, and I couldn't be happier. It's really the best form of birth control for those who are in committed monogamous relationships. I can't cite any drawbacks; the only thing I've noticed is that I'll routinely have anywhere from 1-3 days of "pre-period" bleeding (heavier than spotting) before my official start date. That's all. I can live with it!