Yes, you heard right, sports fans: Kathy Lee Gifford. You probably don't remember her, and honestly, neither did I, until she joined the rather un-motley mix of business men, more business men, and me, in the international lounge in United's international terminal at O'Hare. I noticed the men's heads turning before I noticed this creature burst into the room, the woman who I now remember (after a little help from Google) used to sit in the chair next to Regis before she was booted and replaced by America's beloved Kelly.
So in walks this Z-list, ginger, semi-attractive, middle-aged former morning talk show co-host. Big deal. I turn my eyes back to my laptop and allow my thoughts to return t0 what I wanted to share with y'all during my first hours of my journey, and my last on American soil for a while. Maybe the NEAR DEATH (slightly bumpy) landing that I am so proud of myself for staying relatively calm during? Eh. The wimpy plane issue is a little played out, and this is only Blog #2. How about the lovely moving walkway that whisked me from Terminal C to Terminal B upon my arrival in the Windy City? It's psychedelic lights relaxed me while hidden speakers gently sang me a little ditty that can only be described as Japanese Hello Kitty Muzak, but this is something I feel that only my lovely boyfriend would enjoy reading about, and this blog is for everyone (all three of you!).
So Back to the lounge. I'm sitting here, eating my bagel, which is, naturally, smeared with an unusually large portion of cream cheese (I prefer about a 1:1 ratio of bread to cheese), when I strike gold:
Kathy Lee Gifford has re-emerged, and 'someone' has changed the lounge television channel from CNN to some morning talk show, of which she is apparently now a host.
Disclaimer: I. Shit. You. Not.
I, along with the other shocked lounge dwellers, could obviously not help but notice, as she began to loudly recount the taping of the show earlier this morning (are morning shows not live??), and then began bitching about her guest: Chelsea Handler.
Okay, now here is the thing. I'm not going to claim to be the Number One Handler fan in the world, but I will not deny that while channel surfing over the past couple years she has made me laugh out loud on more than one occasion. I mean, come on, she unashamedly calls her little person sidekick, Chewy, a "nugget", and he unashamedly takes it. I like her.
So anyway, back to Gifford. Now she's eating an apple and eyeing my cream cheese slathered bagel with something mixed with rage and jealousy.
Sorry, Gifford, you may have some gig on a morning show and a hell of a lot more dough than I do, but money can't buy you a 23-year-old metabolism. Suck it.
And then, she was gone.
But she's still blaring at me from the TV (none of us left in the lounge have made the move to change the channel), now rambling like a drone about discount cruises. I'm finishing this post, finishing my bagel, and escaping back to The Real World: Non-Lounge Chicago O'Hare Airport.
Catch y'all on the flipside,
Karissa
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