Hasty retreat
Here I am, okay? I'm back. You know, come to think of it, I maybe, possibly, theoretically thought about putting a heads up post about my journey into St. Louis' outter bowls of sub-division hell.
But then, I wouldn't get Collin heckling me, which I often miss.
So, here we go.
Last Thursday, the SockMama, my sister (yes, the one with the nose candy habit), my mom, and myself crowded into two planes (layovers - gotta love em) and made our way to St. Louis to visit my grandfather to celebrate his 80th birthday.
Which meant my nights leading up to the trip were consumed by laundry, cleaning, and packing, while my days at work were consumed by last minute project changes (I was at work until 8pm Wednesday night) and calming the anxious nerves of account people. Therefore, no blogging for Andy.
But now I'm back.
Here's a quick recant of the action:
Wednesday night: I'm at work, trying to leave work. I finally do. My buddy gives me a ride home. Things are looking good. Then I get the call. It's SockMama, and she's worried that her mom, our house/dog/cat/satellite tv watcher, is out and about, meaning that she's away from the phone, which means we now have no idea what time to expect her. Then the fun begins.
We start calling her mom's friends and acquaintances, trying to track her down. No luck whatsoever. It's now 10 pm. We have a flight at 7am. Simple subtraction will tell you that, at this point in the night, we're screwed as far as sleeping goes.
For the next two hours, we continue calling and, still without any contact, we start to think that SockMama will not be able to go. After all, we only have four hours (and it's midnight) to find someone who'll take a beagle into their home for four days. We call SockMama's aunts and, luckily, we find one that will take him. But we had to leave right then, in the middle of the night. So we pack up his stuff and head to her house, drop off the dog, stumble back home, and sleep for 3 hours.
Thursday morning: We pry our eyes open at 4:45 am and throw our stuff in the car. We find the parking lot, hop in the shuttle, and get to the check-in counter. Here's where we hit the day's first speed bump. My mom, the day before, sent me an email at work saying we will meet at the ticket counter. Cool. The only problem is, for this idea to work, she had to actually be at the ticket counter to meet us. Instead, SockMama and myself checked-in and asked the (idiot) check-in guy if they had already checked in. He typed something on the computer (probably on a porn site) and shook his head authortativly, saying that, no, they had not checked in yet. So we continue to wait. Our flight leaves at 6:50 and it's now 6:15. We ask the guy what to do and he says to go ahead and get in line at security and that there is another flight at 9 that they will need to take.
So, off we go to security. As we're winding our way through the queue, my cell phone begins to vibrate. I answer. It's my mom. She's irate because the plane is boarding and that we are not on it. Wondering how she knew that, seeing as how she wasn't at the airport yet, she replied "because we're on the plane!" Nice. Turns out, they arrived five minutes before us and, my mom being the insane anxious crazy lady she is whenever there's any sort of timetable involved, got freaked out and assumed we would know just to meet her on the plane. Who comes to this sort of conclusion this fast? What's more, she DOESN'T HAVE A CELL PHONE! It's one thing to improvise on a schedule when you let the person know about it, but it's a whole 'nother thing when said person just assumes everyone else thinks like you and make up your own plans as you see fit, and NOT LET THEM KNOW. By the way, she borrowed someone's cell phone to make the call as we were in security, just in case you were confused. Which, by now, has to be a foregone conclusion.
Anyhow, we make it onto the plane with 15 minutes to spare.
The rest of the day actually went well. We flew into Minneapolis (aka The Third Level of Hell), had lunch, and then hopped onto an MRI tube with wings and leather seats that are spaced an eighth-inch away from my knee caps as I'm sitting down. Oh joy. Luckily that flight was short - only an hour and fifteen minutes.
And then we were in St. Louis....
Stay tuned next time as we travel to mystical lands called "Chesterfield," "The Vally," and "Gin and Raisons!"
Oh yeah...I have pictures, too. I'll try to post those and the wine tasting pics soon.
Sorry for the delay.
But then, I wouldn't get Collin heckling me, which I often miss.
So, here we go.
Last Thursday, the SockMama, my sister (yes, the one with the nose candy habit), my mom, and myself crowded into two planes (layovers - gotta love em) and made our way to St. Louis to visit my grandfather to celebrate his 80th birthday.
Which meant my nights leading up to the trip were consumed by laundry, cleaning, and packing, while my days at work were consumed by last minute project changes (I was at work until 8pm Wednesday night) and calming the anxious nerves of account people. Therefore, no blogging for Andy.
But now I'm back.
Here's a quick recant of the action:
Wednesday night: I'm at work, trying to leave work. I finally do. My buddy gives me a ride home. Things are looking good. Then I get the call. It's SockMama, and she's worried that her mom, our house/dog/cat/satellite tv watcher, is out and about, meaning that she's away from the phone, which means we now have no idea what time to expect her. Then the fun begins.
We start calling her mom's friends and acquaintances, trying to track her down. No luck whatsoever. It's now 10 pm. We have a flight at 7am. Simple subtraction will tell you that, at this point in the night, we're screwed as far as sleeping goes.
For the next two hours, we continue calling and, still without any contact, we start to think that SockMama will not be able to go. After all, we only have four hours (and it's midnight) to find someone who'll take a beagle into their home for four days. We call SockMama's aunts and, luckily, we find one that will take him. But we had to leave right then, in the middle of the night. So we pack up his stuff and head to her house, drop off the dog, stumble back home, and sleep for 3 hours.
Thursday morning: We pry our eyes open at 4:45 am and throw our stuff in the car. We find the parking lot, hop in the shuttle, and get to the check-in counter. Here's where we hit the day's first speed bump. My mom, the day before, sent me an email at work saying we will meet at the ticket counter. Cool. The only problem is, for this idea to work, she had to actually be at the ticket counter to meet us. Instead, SockMama and myself checked-in and asked the (idiot) check-in guy if they had already checked in. He typed something on the computer (probably on a porn site) and shook his head authortativly, saying that, no, they had not checked in yet. So we continue to wait. Our flight leaves at 6:50 and it's now 6:15. We ask the guy what to do and he says to go ahead and get in line at security and that there is another flight at 9 that they will need to take.
So, off we go to security. As we're winding our way through the queue, my cell phone begins to vibrate. I answer. It's my mom. She's irate because the plane is boarding and that we are not on it. Wondering how she knew that, seeing as how she wasn't at the airport yet, she replied "because we're on the plane!" Nice. Turns out, they arrived five minutes before us and, my mom being the insane anxious crazy lady she is whenever there's any sort of timetable involved, got freaked out and assumed we would know just to meet her on the plane. Who comes to this sort of conclusion this fast? What's more, she DOESN'T HAVE A CELL PHONE! It's one thing to improvise on a schedule when you let the person know about it, but it's a whole 'nother thing when said person just assumes everyone else thinks like you and make up your own plans as you see fit, and NOT LET THEM KNOW. By the way, she borrowed someone's cell phone to make the call as we were in security, just in case you were confused. Which, by now, has to be a foregone conclusion.
Anyhow, we make it onto the plane with 15 minutes to spare.
The rest of the day actually went well. We flew into Minneapolis (aka The Third Level of Hell), had lunch, and then hopped onto an MRI tube with wings and leather seats that are spaced an eighth-inch away from my knee caps as I'm sitting down. Oh joy. Luckily that flight was short - only an hour and fifteen minutes.
And then we were in St. Louis....
Stay tuned next time as we travel to mystical lands called "Chesterfield," "The Vally," and "Gin and Raisons!"
Oh yeah...I have pictures, too. I'll try to post those and the wine tasting pics soon.
Sorry for the delay.
posted by The Haiku Review at 12:13 PM
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