I had a dream...

I had a dream.  
Last night.
In my dream I was being fitted for a wig, an afro wig.  
And the only thing I thought was, "this is weird, but it sure will help me blend in when I travel in Africa and the Caribbean (and Mississippi)."  
Yeah, I bet it would.  Ha!


I think I'm a little obsessed with my hair right now because I just got back from the Dominican Republic (more about that later) where the humidity level is much higher than my Utah/Idaho norm.  


And as much as I already don't like (and am self conscious) about my hair, it gets much worse in humidity.  My self esteem is pretty much inversely proportional to the humidity level...up goes the humidity and down goes the self-esteem.  That's why I can never live somewhere very humid.  I can visit humid places but I have to get home to a dry climate before my self-esteem hits irreversibly negative levels.


And when I do travel my only hope for decent hair or a decent picture is the 15 minutes after I use my fabulous ghd flat iron, a flat iron I came so close to losing this past week.  


So I'm going through airport security this past Saturday as I'm leaving the DR when I hear a lady in front of me shouting, "TRUST ME, I WILL NEVER COME HERE AGAIN!"  I looked ahead to see what all the commotion was about and I saw security taking away her flat iron.  'Crap, mine is in my carry-on too', I thought.  I always carry on my flat iron just in case I get stuck somewhere on my journey home and need to do my hair.  You never know.


Just then I get pulled aside for a baggage check and sure enough they pull out my flat iron too.  I decided, from past experience and from seeing the lady in front of me freaking out, that yelling or getting upset wouldn't do me any good.  So, I just calmly said to the security guy, "please don't throw away my flat iron, it is a really nice expensive one.  Can I check it or mail it to myself or something?"  


'Besides,' I thought to myself, 'how am I going to kill anyone on the plane with a flat iron anyway?  It's not like there's a place to plug it in and heat it up.  And I'm not coordinated enough or strong enough to choke anyone with the cord.  I've never been to a country that didn't allow you to carry on flat irons.  Ridiculous.  This country is retarded.  What's the next thing they're going to take away from you before flying...your karate skills?  Seriously.  Chuck Norris flying with no weapons at all is way more dangerous than me flying with my stupid flat iron.'  


But I didn't say any of that...I just though it.  And instead I was soooooo calm and nice.  And I could tell that he didn't want to have to take it away from me.          


So the guy quietly says to me, "Okay, you can check it," as he looks over his shoulders to make sure that none of the other security people or the crazy lady in front of me heard him.  So I scoot to the side and begin re-organizing my carry-on to get it ready to check.  


I expected the security guy to come show me back through security or make sure that I went back and checked the bag.  But when I looked back towards him he was busy with someone else and was looking another way.  I took his negligence to mean that he didn't want me to have to check it and maybe wanted me to get away with carrying on my flat iron.  


So, I zipped up my bag and took off, and didn't even look behind me.  I tried to act natural but I sped right over to passport control.  And of course the guy stamping my passport took FOREVER.  And he was acting weird and looking around and stuff.  I thought any second I was going to be swarmed by security and handcuffed, but unfortunately (for the quality of this story), I was not.  


I hurried up to the gate and found a nice little corner where I thought the bad guys (aka security) wouldn't find me.  And then it came time to board the plane, and of course, I got pulled aside at the gate for those last minute "random" checks they do when you're flying internationally.  


Ahhhh I totally forgot about the possibility of getting checked at the gate.  And my flat iron was pretty much right on top.  Luckily the guy doing the check wasn't too thorough and somehow I slid past that one.  


Then, as I'm sitting on the plane waiting for takeoff, the flight attendant came and asked to see my boarding pass.  'Ahhhhh, how do they know I illegally busted through security?' I thought.  But, the plane took off and I didn't get arrested.  End of the paranoia.  


And guess what?  Crazy yelling lady was in the seat right in front of me and was telling her sad tale to the flight attendant of how security "took my flat iron, and they took the flat iron of a girl behind me in line too."  Haaaaa, no they didn't lady!  My friends and I got he-heeeing over that one as we ducked our heads behind the seats.  

Anyway, I'm sure that sneaking a flat iron through security isn't the smartest thing I've done, but I'm glad I did it because:
a) I love that flat iron
b) It is dual voltage and I need it for traveling
c) It was expensive
d) There's no reason why I shouldn't have been able to carry it on in the first place and sneaking it on was a matter of principle.  
e) Not knowing whether or not I was going to be arrested was sort of exciting to be honest.  I guess my life is boring and I need a little excitement now and then. 


I don't know why, but any time I do something a little stupid like this or like when I took a bunch of suckers across the Zambia/Zimbabwe border for some random guy, I always look to the future and think of the book deal and life of luxury and fame that would follow.  I never focus on my five years in prison or whatever.  I always look for the positive and look toward the future.  I guess that's good, right?


But, nothing happened this time, so don't expect to see the book, "The Girl Who Spent Five Years in a Dominican Prison Over a Really Nice Flat Iron," on bookshelves anytime soon.