Where are the tongs? And other stories.

I know I said I was going to be better, but things haven't settled down in the slightest at my house. First, the significant other got a new job with hours (for the most part) opposite of mine, so I'm spending what time we both have off with him.

Then, about two weeks ago, one of our computers died. It's technically his, but since he's been gaming way more than me lately, I told him to use my totally AWESOME computer for that, and I would just use his older one for my own business. Then one morning I turned it on, and it blue screened. Don't you just LOVE stop errors? I haven't looked too much into it, but I think we might be able to do something about it. I just haven't had the time to geek out over it.

One thing is for sure though. I am definitely glad I had all my novels/notes/other important documents backed up simultaneously on three flash drives and the other computer. I don't think I lost anything, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Then, Saturday was Vinny's cousin Suzie's wedding. Thus, his family was in town. The original plan was for his mother and brother to stay with us for the duration of their trip, but that idea was (thankfully) later tossed aside in favor of a hotel.

And I couldn't be happier.

The day of the wedding was a nightmare. I woke up to 45 degree weather with wind gusts of nearly 65MPH. Thank God it was planned as an indoor wedding. We spent almost an hour and a half on Saturday driving around looking for two small sets of metal tongs. We went to 15 different stores in the Ogden area to find them. Not. One. Pair.

Inorite?

Instead of champagne and the toasts at the wedding, Suzie and David had a candy bar.

Best. Idea. Ever.

Gummy bears, M&M's, cinnamon bears, those pastel mint thingys, swedish fish, those green and white sour apple rings, colorful sugary fruit wedges, dots...it was glorious, I tell you!

The ceremony was beautiful and the reception went well. The four different cakes were AMAZING. There was carrot cake, double chocolate raspberry...I'm making myself hungry now.

The day after the wedding, Vinny's family went back to California. Monday I spent the day NOT packing, since that morning I discovered that my driver's license had expired on May 31 (oops!) and I had to take a cross-country flight the next day. So I trudged my way over to the DMV--or whatever they call it nowadays--and got my temporary I.D. When I got home, I got changed and we went to the park for our weekly socialization. We played Ultimate Frisbee in the park with the church crew, which was a ton of fun.

Monday night I cooked an 11lb. turkey breast for Vinny to eat while I'm gone, finally packed my stuff, and went to bed around 3am. I woke up at 11 the next morning, double checked my stuff, and was transported to the SLC airport.

My first flight was fine. I arrived in Denver at 4pm and found the gate for my next flight, from Denver to Newark Liberty, which was scheduled for a 5:44 departure. I hung around, worked a bit, lugged my too-heavy bag around to the bathroom, a coffee stop, quesadilla run, another bathroom stop, and half a dozen times to check the boards for my flight status: Delayed.

That's all it said. No time, no reason, no NOTHING. So I headed up to the desk and asked the attendant what in the blazes was going on with my flight. He told me it was moved a few gates down, and that it was delayed indefinitely, and he had no idea why.

I grabbed my bags and huffed it over to the new gate and waited. And waited. Then I waited some more. Finally, I got sick of waiting and asked the attendant at the current gate what was going on.

The response?

"There was a problem with the plane. They're trying to find a new one. They're going to make a decision at 8."

This was, of course, pushed back (and, surprise! pushed back again). To a final arrival time of 9:35. OH. MY. GOD!

So there I was, sitting in the Denver airport with nothing to do. I had work I didn't want to do and a book I didn't want to read, and plenty of music that I didn't want to listen to. So I did what I knew always sucked up more time than I had, no matter how long that may be.

I called Nana.

That's right, my Nana. We talked for hours about everything and everything you could imagine. We talked about my books, we talked about her lasik surgery, we talked about my uncle's new hobby-- he's become a certified falconer and recently bought a puppy to use as a bird dog, we discussed that my sister still didn't know I was coming home for her high school graduation, and whether or not I was eating right, and much, much more.

When my flight landed in Newark at 3:15am, I dragged my luggage up and down stairs and escalators and through hallways trying to find ONE open bathroom.

Yes, my oblivious baby sister was surprised that I was there when they pulled up to the airport. She had actually believed my dad when he told her he was going on a business trip for a few days. I can give her that one, because he does travel a lot. But what I can't get over is the fact that when she drove there with him, he told her to follow the sign that said "ARRIVALS" because, "That's for people arriving at the airport. Departures are for people leaving the airport." And she totally bought it.

We got home at 4:45am, I plopped my things down and was asleep before I hit the mattress. Unfortunately, I woke up again when I landed on the 17 pound family cat, Tigger. And let me tell you, Tigger is not a friendly feline.

My dad thought it would be nice to make me breakfast this morning. And yes, it was nice to wake up and have breakfast and coffee waiting for me. But he woke me up at 1pm. I had to explain to him that New Jersey is on fake time, and the time was actually 11am, which is way to early to be up on a day off after spending 15 hours between going to the airport, being at the airport, flying, and going home from the airport.

I think I'm done narking for now. Night.