Day before, 1st day - It's a long story!
The night before we left I told my sons to come up so I could let my youngest (the one working here now) use my truck while I was away. Why did I want to let him use my car, some of you might ask (my aunt and Dbf were perplexed as to why). Because I wanted to, because I wanted to make sure he could get to work, in case older son didn't come home with the other car, in case the other car broke down, because that's what mothers do. I don't know - just shut up about the truck - geeze.
We left for the airport the designated 2 hours ahead. When we arrived the $5/day lot was closed for repairs and we parked in the $6/day lot. We parked way way in the back. We were lucky to get a parking place. I got out of the car, got my luggage out of the trunk.
*side note* My Dbf is a fiddler. Do you know what a fiddler is? It is a person who, when we go anywhere, takes forever to get out of the car. I could be in the resturant and order before he gets out of the car. We had just got into the car with our packed luggage. What the hell was he doing in there?
*end side note*
Rolling the luggage behind us we go to the American desk. The airline industry decided a while ago to install terminals for self-check in. I believe they thought this would cut down long lines. Here's the reality: there is about 3 sq ft around each terminal for you to settle your luggage, dig into your purse for a credit card, scan the credit card and answer questions that you have no idea what the answer is. My choices were: Welcome Lasann. Do you want to retrieve your reservation by flight number, destination or some other method. I selected some other method because I wasn't sure if the destination was the final destination or the transfer location. It asked for the flight #. If I'd had the flight number I'd have entered it on the first screen. *And if they knew I was Lasann why don't they know where I'm flying - boggle* Another person wants to use the terminal next to me but mine and Dbf's luggage take up too much room. I fumble with the terminal and finally in a huff make a smart-ass remark. The kind lady behind the desk (who could have saved us all the hastle) volunteered to sign us in. Trying to navigage the luggage within the 3 sq ft caused me to run over my toe - damm it. The kind lady informs us that the flight is delayed an hour and we might not make our connection in Dallas. She books us on a later flight as a precaution. Bags checked we go outside to inhale 2 cigarettes in hope that the resulting nicotine rush will last the next 6 hours. Going through security is a snap. We wait, we board the flight, and off we go.
We arrrive in Dallas in record speed and make the earlier connection. I explain this double booking to the attendent in Dallas. All is well. We board (without a smoke break) and arrive safety in Phoenix. Woo Hoo - I'm finally in Phoenix.
Rental car rented, luggage loaded, off we go to find my Aunt's house. We, of course, get lost trying to get there. First off, I'd left the instructions on my desk at work. I call her and can't totally understand her but think I heard enough to get there. She says they are going to bed as they retire early. They will get up to let us in. I have to call again because we have now arrived in the desert in the middle of the night having traveled outside of Phoenix. After this and one more call we arrive.
My aunt is 74ist and her Dbf is 84. He is a polite British chap. I adore British accents and could listen to him talk for hours but I'm exhausted. We go to our room with warning that they get up bright and early. It's 2:30 a.m.
Next morning we wake early - 8:00 a.m. to the smell of coffee brewing. How can something that tastes so vile smell so good? After having enchilladas for breakfast (dear British chap couldn't stomach this breakfast and had gone home) we left for a trip to a Ross - dress for less store. My Dbf visits every Ross, Marshall's and/or TJMaxx we see. While in the store my bestest Candi calls.
*side note* I never insist that my friends do anything. However, since I'm frantic about this operation 6/12 I had insisted that she come down before surgery. *
She calls and informs me that she had planned to come down the 10th and stay for a week after surgery, BUT . . . . the transmission went out on her car. She has no money to fix it. Also, her husband (they're estranged) is losing his shop (auto body). She is lilving in his house and he has been living at the shop. So not only does she not have a car she fears being homeless. Shit - Damn - MFucker - WTF. We talk and I finally say I'll call her later. Shit - Damn.
We leave the store to go to a "park and swap" that Dbf wanted to go to. My phone rings. It is my son.
Mom,
Yes,
I have bad news
What *shaking*?
It wasn't my fault but I got into a wreck with your truck.
What happened?
I was sitting at a stop light and suddenly this girl hits the back of me at 45 MPH and pushes me into the car in front of me and the car in front of me into the car in front of her.
Are you okay? *Dbf is frowning*
Yes but the car is pretty fucked up.
Did you have your seat belt on?
No, it knocked me into the steering wheel and scrapped my shins and my neck hurts a little.
Can it be driven?
Yes, but it's pretty fucked up.
Are you sure you're ok? *Dbf is frowning and shaking head*
Etc.
Conversation ends. DBF starts rant about leaving the car with him, my aunt wants to know why I left it - STOP
Is this about them? I just heard that my bestest was having some major problems and MY - yes MY truck - is smashed and they (especially DBF) think this is a good time to harrass me - N O T!!!
Anyway, we go to the park and swap. This "park and swap" was rather high class, it being in the NE suburbs and all. We walked around (I believe it was 104 Saturday) and I find all kinds of things I want - jewelry, SW decorations. I limit myself to one ring because this is only the first day. We leave there, go to aunt's, go swimming in her pool, go to dinner with aunt and British guy, go to sleep.
IT'S SUNDAY!
I've been on vacation 36 hours and I feel like shit!!!! Two bad news calls and ranting from Dbf. I want to know where the largest hole is that I can crawl into - P L E A S E.
Sunday was a good day but you have to wait until tommorow so I can share the good stuff!!!
We left for the airport the designated 2 hours ahead. When we arrived the $5/day lot was closed for repairs and we parked in the $6/day lot. We parked way way in the back. We were lucky to get a parking place. I got out of the car, got my luggage out of the trunk.
*side note* My Dbf is a fiddler. Do you know what a fiddler is? It is a person who, when we go anywhere, takes forever to get out of the car. I could be in the resturant and order before he gets out of the car. We had just got into the car with our packed luggage. What the hell was he doing in there?
*end side note*
Rolling the luggage behind us we go to the American desk. The airline industry decided a while ago to install terminals for self-check in. I believe they thought this would cut down long lines. Here's the reality: there is about 3 sq ft around each terminal for you to settle your luggage, dig into your purse for a credit card, scan the credit card and answer questions that you have no idea what the answer is. My choices were: Welcome Lasann. Do you want to retrieve your reservation by flight number, destination or some other method. I selected some other method because I wasn't sure if the destination was the final destination or the transfer location. It asked for the flight #. If I'd had the flight number I'd have entered it on the first screen. *And if they knew I was Lasann why don't they know where I'm flying - boggle* Another person wants to use the terminal next to me but mine and Dbf's luggage take up too much room. I fumble with the terminal and finally in a huff make a smart-ass remark. The kind lady behind the desk (who could have saved us all the hastle) volunteered to sign us in. Trying to navigage the luggage within the 3 sq ft caused me to run over my toe - damm it. The kind lady informs us that the flight is delayed an hour and we might not make our connection in Dallas. She books us on a later flight as a precaution. Bags checked we go outside to inhale 2 cigarettes in hope that the resulting nicotine rush will last the next 6 hours. Going through security is a snap. We wait, we board the flight, and off we go.
We arrrive in Dallas in record speed and make the earlier connection. I explain this double booking to the attendent in Dallas. All is well. We board (without a smoke break) and arrive safety in Phoenix. Woo Hoo - I'm finally in Phoenix.
Rental car rented, luggage loaded, off we go to find my Aunt's house. We, of course, get lost trying to get there. First off, I'd left the instructions on my desk at work. I call her and can't totally understand her but think I heard enough to get there. She says they are going to bed as they retire early. They will get up to let us in. I have to call again because we have now arrived in the desert in the middle of the night having traveled outside of Phoenix. After this and one more call we arrive.
My aunt is 74ist and her Dbf is 84. He is a polite British chap. I adore British accents and could listen to him talk for hours but I'm exhausted. We go to our room with warning that they get up bright and early. It's 2:30 a.m.
Next morning we wake early - 8:00 a.m. to the smell of coffee brewing. How can something that tastes so vile smell so good? After having enchilladas for breakfast (dear British chap couldn't stomach this breakfast and had gone home) we left for a trip to a Ross - dress for less store. My Dbf visits every Ross, Marshall's and/or TJMaxx we see. While in the store my bestest Candi calls.
*side note* I never insist that my friends do anything. However, since I'm frantic about this operation 6/12 I had insisted that she come down before surgery. *
She calls and informs me that she had planned to come down the 10th and stay for a week after surgery, BUT . . . . the transmission went out on her car. She has no money to fix it. Also, her husband (they're estranged) is losing his shop (auto body). She is lilving in his house and he has been living at the shop. So not only does she not have a car she fears being homeless. Shit - Damn - MFucker - WTF. We talk and I finally say I'll call her later. Shit - Damn.
We leave the store to go to a "park and swap" that Dbf wanted to go to. My phone rings. It is my son.
Mom,
Yes,
I have bad news
What *shaking*?
It wasn't my fault but I got into a wreck with your truck.
What happened?
I was sitting at a stop light and suddenly this girl hits the back of me at 45 MPH and pushes me into the car in front of me and the car in front of me into the car in front of her.
Are you okay? *Dbf is frowning*
Yes but the car is pretty fucked up.
Did you have your seat belt on?
No, it knocked me into the steering wheel and scrapped my shins and my neck hurts a little.
Can it be driven?
Yes, but it's pretty fucked up.
Are you sure you're ok? *Dbf is frowning and shaking head*
Etc.
Conversation ends. DBF starts rant about leaving the car with him, my aunt wants to know why I left it - STOP
Is this about them? I just heard that my bestest was having some major problems and MY - yes MY truck - is smashed and they (especially DBF) think this is a good time to harrass me - N O T!!!
Anyway, we go to the park and swap. This "park and swap" was rather high class, it being in the NE suburbs and all. We walked around (I believe it was 104 Saturday) and I find all kinds of things I want - jewelry, SW decorations. I limit myself to one ring because this is only the first day. We leave there, go to aunt's, go swimming in her pool, go to dinner with aunt and British guy, go to sleep.
IT'S SUNDAY!
I've been on vacation 36 hours and I feel like shit!!!! Two bad news calls and ranting from Dbf. I want to know where the largest hole is that I can crawl into - P L E A S E.
Sunday was a good day but you have to wait until tommorow so I can share the good stuff!!!
