Tonight I broke a new rule, with only minor anxiety and sweatiness. Get ready for it...
I did not put on my seat belt on my airline flight.
Home skillet next to me was just playing Family Feud on his iPad with such alarming agility I couldn't bring myself to ask him to lift his ass and hand over my other half. I did flop the free end over my lap to deter the stewardess in her rounds. Then I sat back and managed to peacefully ride without one iota of thought (read: 5,000 nervous glances to the fasten seat belt light) about my potentially precarious position.
Rule. Breaker. Next stop BAMFdom.
This is actually huge for me. I don't go outside the lines.
This is closer to me on a plane:
|Yes ma'am, I will do exactly as told, regardless of dumbassability.|
As I have posted before, things like couch-forts (forts, not farts, which can also be baffling in the living room) in the living room or eating ice cream for breakfast totally blow my skirt up.
I actually had a very funny pilot on what must have been a Southwest flight, bc only they allow humor, who came on after we touched down to announce that 16 people did not have their seatbelts on, according to what was likely a made up tracker. He told us not to look around for the culprits because it would make our neighbors uncomfy. He then informed us of a fun fact: in the history of the TSA, no passenger has ever beat their plane to the gate. Maybe not, but I sure skirted the lines of death tonight, broke all your crazy rules and lived to blog about it you sneaky bastards.
Update: the liberation stopped on my second segment. Seatbelt snuggly fastened and unbudgey on flight #2.