It takes three days to thaw a frozen turkey properly.

What a colossal misuse of time.

So I'm at the office instead of thawing a turkey, and girding my loins for the ordeal at O'Hare. I have this fantasy of grabbing a TSA officer's naughty bits in response to the overly-thorough pat down, but I suspect they'll interpret that as assault. I have no desire to be in airport jail.

So I'll cave to authority and go through the body scanner, hoping I don't get cancer and not caring one bit that my blobby naked bits will be seen onscreen by some stranger. Ten years ago, I had sex in a DJ box in Boystown; what's an airport scanner compared to that?

I'll be in Los Angeles for the holiday so y'all behave; eat moderately and try not to lose your mind during Black Friday.  I will be missing M-, missing my girls, meeting family members' various girlfriends, guzzling champagne as a coping mechanism, and perhaps getting in touch with a couple of friends I haven't seen since grad school.

Safe travels!