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[19 Oct 2009|04:26am] |
My weekend was a fucking adventure and a half.
First, my flights Friday fucked me over and I stayed in Syracuse for the night. I saw Spelling Bee, good show, whatever. Didn't realize I needed to wake up at 3:45am until about 1am.
I drove to the airport at 4am without incident, left my winter coat in my car, checked my bag, went through security with no problems, sat down and played on the internet on my iPod. We boarded late, but with the 3 hour layover in Philly I had scheduled, it was no problem. We landed in Philadephia and it was freezing and pouring. I found my gate and camped out, inadvertently signing up for a US air credit card along the way (it was 6:40 in the morning, shut up). I ate pizza for breakfast at 8am, as it was the only place open that had anything other than eggs.
Boarding time came and went with no explanation. At the time we were supposed to take off, they made an announcement that the crew hadn't landed from their last flight yet. The plane we were taking was there, but we couldn't board until there was a crew. I got nervous, but my flight was supposed to get in about 2 hours before the wedding, and the airport is only 10 minutes from the place. We finally boarded the plane almost an hour after we were supposed to take off... And taxied for probably 45 minutes.
I fell asleep as soon as we started moving, but I woke up at 12 o'clock still in the air. I changed into my dress in my seat on the plane, realizing that I was going to have to bust my ass if I wanted to get there on time. We landed at 12:25. My dad was there to meet me with a driver from the hotel. We waited for my checked bag. Lost. Had to file a claim. Southerners take for fucking ever to do everything, and my dad was freaking out.
We run to the hotel van and jet. I take off my leggings and change my shoes on the way. At 12:57, Brendan (the groom) calls my dad to see where we are. My dad tells him we'll be there in like 2 minutes and to please hold! We got there at exactly 1 o'clock, to cheers from everyone in my damn family. I still had my bookbag (of course my carry-on was homework and my dress), and had to hide it behind the door of the church.
The ceremony was 10 minutes long, so it's really a good thing we made it in time. As soon as it got quiet, Xavier said "MOMMY" really loudly. Q started speaking to him in a low voice, telling him to be quiet. With perfect timing in the dead silence, you just hear him go "BUT I don't LIKE to be quiet!!" She took him outside, of course. It was a good laugh for the rest of us.
The reception was fun. The tables were all named for songs, and the centerpieces were vinyls. Apparently it decided to be Wilmington's version of winter, though. It was in the '50s and it felt nasty. You would think I would have been prepared, but no. I was excited to be going down there and expecting normal October temperatures (70s). So I put my leggings back on under my dress, changed back into my cons from my open heels, and wore my dad's suit coat. Jon declared that I looked like "the weird girl from an '80s movie."
When the reception ended, we went to the hotel and I put my stuff down. I wanted to change, except I had no fucking clothes other than what I'd worn to sleep and fly in (which all smelled just delightful). So I wound up wearing fucking black leggings (why would I ever wear leggings to fly?), a dirty tank top, a light cardigan I'd brought for my dress, and one of my dad's button down shirts. I looked like I was making a statement. My parents and I went to dinner with Dave, X and Q at a delicious Carribean place. Then Dave Q and I went to meet up with everyone at the first bar of the afterparty.
It was a really cool bar, but it looked dingy and smelled like a dirty bathroom. There were games everywhere, though. No TVs, so most of my cousins and uncles left around 8 to go watch the game. We headed to another bar and pretty much camped out. Everyone who was there at some point or another: Dave and Q, me, Dad, Jon and Tara, Steve and Patty, Carly and John, Brian and Jackie, Mark and Monica, Eileen and Mike, Paul and Liz, Laura, Tommy, Dan.
North Carolina is not exactly Yankee territory, or baseball territory period. The environment got a bit hostile once it was just Mark, his kids + Liz, my dad, Jon, Tara and me. Some guy really wanted to fight Tommy for no reason other than we cheered when ARod hit his homer... and we're loud fans. It was ridiculous. Then he was going to try to start something with either Laura (who's 13) or myself in the top of the 13th inning, but my dad and Paul took Laura over to a booth they'd commandeered. It was just retarded. Anyway, they finally won and it was amazing.
Went back to the hotel, slept, whatever. My bag came today! My parents woke me up by telling me we were an hour late to Eileen's house and we had to go. So I opened my bag.. only to find all of my nice clean clothes were fucking soaked. Gee, thanks US air/Philly. My dad suggested that my bag was so ill handled because it was a Yankee bag. I found one mostly dry shirt and managed, still wearing the fucking leggings. The other pants I brought were the wettest thing in the bag. I opened my deodorant to put it on (because yes, I checked that like a moron) and it crumbled. It was a really sad moment.
Went to Eileen's. They ran out of food before we got there. Thennn more food came and it was delicious fried chicken and I was in heaven. At 4:30, my parents drove me, Tommy, Paul and Liz to the airport, because we had 6ish flights. Both of our flights were delayed about an hour, and my fucking keychain swiss army knife was confiscated by security. The blade on that thing was under 3 inches and totally complied with TSA regulations, but I was too stunned to argue. I also didn't want to be arrested as a potential terrorist, so I didn't bother. Luckily, my cousins/Liz had a straight flight, and I had another 3 hour layover anyway, so our delays didn't cause any real problems.
My last flight was perfect, strangely enough. The Charlotte airport is so big! I got blisters from walking though it. I camped out on my ipod again and ate dinner/did some homework. When I got back here, Nadia gave me a deodorant that she'd been wanting to throw away but not waste so I didn't have to go shopping at 2am.
I'm tired of writing. The end.
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