Oh yes, it's that special time where I write about yet another ridiculous happening just to brighten your day--and because I enjoy writing these little stories down. It's always fun to go back and remember these moments in a more comical light.
This past weekend I decided to take a little trip to see my honey in Abilene, Texas. BACK STORY: I was supposed to drive but my parents are incredible nice and thought it would be easier for me to fly. Thank you, sweet Parents! Thank you for giving my purple car a weekend off, for saving me 8 hours of driving and giving me more time to spend with my beau!
OK--so I'm flying, right? After a full day of school, make-up classes, staff meetings and last minute packing I finally make it to the airport in enough time to sit and wait for my delayed flight. As I'm waiting, I notice there's a guitarist sitting in a corner playing the most beautiful music. Quietly, peacefully eating my chicken sandwich and making necessary calls, I sat and absorbed the musician's notes as he played for free. Thought it might be nice to compliment him when I went to throw away my trash--such a bad idea.
Bad idea because then as my plane was called I suddenly had a new found friend attached to me like a starving puppy. I was nice and chatted with him as he made friendly conversation. Politely ignored his comments about how when you travel and meet new people you only really get a chance to see whether you like that new person or not--then he blushed and chuckled like he'd given a way a gigantic hint.
Oh Lord, love a duck...
Finally he asks me where I'm headed and who I'm going to see--"Oh, I'm going to spend the weekend with my boyfriend." Beaming the biggest smile, because, well, I can't seem to talk about the boy without shining like a light bulb. The guy's face fell instantaneously. And then he proceeded to walk about 50 ft away from me. No goodbye, no "have a good time!" Nothing.
Dang. You would have thought I had leprosy or something. I WASN'T COMING ON TO YOU WHEN I COMPLIMENTED YOUR PLAYING! I was just being nice, for crying out loud.
Flash forward to landing the plane at 8:30--By the by, my connecting flight took off at 8:55. We drive around the airport after landing for about 15 min giving me 10 min to get my bag, get off the plane, take a sky link and race onto the next flight all before it takes off.
So, I beg some older gentleman to get my bag out of the shelf in front of him because I'm caught in my chair and I need to get off the plane. He does and then proceeds to chastise me about the size of my suitcase! HELLO! Hurried lady here! And if anyone knows me you will understand I have issues with time.
Maybe it's from the haunting memory of being late to my own tea party birthday as a child or something. Either way, I get extremely anxious when I'm not early anywhere. Karley and Esther would repeatedly make fun of me for being ready 15 minutes ahead of when I was supposed to be leaving making me actually ready about a half hour before I had to be anywhere. Weird, right?
So I'm a wreck trying to get to the next flight--I've told everyone and their dog that I have a connecting flight, will I make it? "Of course. Of course." LIES! All of it! BECAUSE I get to my gate and I don't see a plane.
I frantically run to the first person I see sitting down and in a panic begin hurriedly asking, "WHERE IS THE PLANE?!"
Young man: "What?"
Me: "THE PLANE? The plane! 3447! Where did that plane go? Is it gone? Did they board and leave yet? TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME!
Young Man: *Nevously sweating* "I, uh, well, I think--hey look! Someone who works here!"
Clearly he was a little scared by the wild, crazy woman in front of him and wanted me as far away as possible. I run up to the first airport worker I find and ask him the same thing, this time fighting a lump in my throat and calmly trying to keep the tears at bay. I was about to miss my last flight out to a weekend I'd been looking forward, too, and no, that may not seem like something to cry about but at that exact moment it felt like a my whole bubble of happy I'd been floating on was about to burst.
Maybe it had to do with my tearing up (Yes, I've been gifted with the doe, glistening eye look that strikes fear in most every male heart--ask my Dad. He hates to see me cry). Or maybe not, but he went to check on the plane and started to tell me I had missed the flight. My heat stopped and I could feel the flood of salty tears just waiting to overflow when all of sudden, he whipped around and went running back down the tunnel. Could it be? Were they going to squeeze me on anyway?!
YES! They had to reopen the plane, extend the jet landing, argue with a not-so-nice flight attendant, and shove my luggage in between extra seats, but by golly I was on that dang plane!! Yahoo--that much closer to a much needed hug.
And then we sat on the runway for 30 minutes...
I gave in and ate one of the chocolate cookies I'd baked for my man and his family. Doggone it if that didn't at least make me feel better until take off.
It was a crazy, but it could have been worse. I'd never been so happy to be off a plane and finally done with traveling (at least for the day). Weekend turned out wonderfully and full necessary quality time, fabulous food, lots of Olympics, watching of the fishing channel, napping, and just having a relaxing weekend. Can't even wait for the next :)
And if you didn't get a kick out that, I ended the weekend by running face first into a glass door at a friends house. Oh, Life--how you treat this lady sometimes.