ARE WE NUTS? . . .

What is this, the 18th century when foppish gentlemen settled issues with duelling pistols?! When did it become okay -- when was it ever okay -- to rid yourself of political, social, whatever-al rivals by KILLING them? What kind of society do we live in -- have we lived in -- where people walk around thinking that you can just get rid of people you don't like for whatever valid or invalid reason? That some kind of honor is preserved, that you are performing some kind of duty, that you are upholding some sort of ideal when you shoot someone to death? And how dumb are you to think you won't get caught or shot to death yourself? Oh wait, maybe you think yourself a martyr, fighting for a cause -- or a piddling argument -- you vapidly think is worth dying for. Stupid. It's all just stupid, and good lives are being wasted in the process of you living out your stupidity. So put your damn guns away, and if you're not smart enough to at least fight with words, then you shouldn't even be setting foot in New York's City Hall.

***

THIRTEEN HOURS . . .

Until I'm on a plane bound for sunny California. Everything should be peachy . . . except for this hacking cough I can't get rid of.

This is the worst part of being sick: the few days after the sickness has passed. No more drippy nose, no more aches and pains, no more chilly fevers or bleary eyes. Probably even my germs are squeaky clean. But alas for the lingering dry hacking cough. People cross the street to avoid you on the sidewalk, coworkers give you sympathetic but slightly annoyed glances, cashiers lunge for the rubber gloves before accepting your money.

And I have to get on a PLANE with this?! What if some loser looks at me and thinks I'm a SARS carrier?! (I'm not.) What if the baggage checkers think my cough drops are illegal drugs in disguise and arrest me?! What if the person next to me actually asks the flight attendant to change his/her seat?! What if the ticket-taker wrinkles his/her nose at me?! What if the icky plane air makes it worse and I spend the next week coughing all over poor Ha & Dr.Y's house and baby?!

In my mind, I am already a pariah. I'm The Hacking Cougher -- the modern-day leper. Oh, dear . . .