Hey, look! I'm alive!
Holy stinky gym socks, Batman! I am finally sitting down to write a new LJ post! Just so you know, I still want a bicycle. A "cruiser" as my mother calls them, and--at least when it comes to bicycles--my mother is always right. So, whilst in bicycle mood, I shall begin with the bicycle story.
If you've been reading my LJ at all, you should at least harbor a tiny memory of the fact that I was crewing a bike ride this month. Well I did, and it was awesome, and I am back. Because this post is going to be so long, I have decided to put the LJ cut function to good use, so if you want to know more about my trip with dear old Mum, you may do so, and if you do not, you are a terrible friend I MEAN you may skip it. That said, here is the story:
So, while we didn't have to resort to pulling out our sleeping bags in the terminal, my mother and I did have a lovely overnight airport stay. In a nutshell, it was disgusting. We get to the airport hecka early because we got a ride from the neighbors who were picking up a relative. So we got there just before five o'clock. Our flight wasn't scheduled to even board until nine-ish, but my mom is an Alaska Gold member or something and has access to the Board Room, which is awesome, so we figure, hang out there 'til dinner, have dinner, go back to the Board Room 'til we board. Well, this plan was squashed only a bit when the lady checking our bags told us our flight was delayed and wouldn't be leaving until closer to twelve-thirty. We're a bit bummed, but it will still work out, and when the Board Room closes at ten-thirty we can just go hang out in the terminal as usual for an hour and a half. So we go to the Board Room, have some complimentary veggies and soup, and do the crossword puzzle. At around eight-ish, we set off to find dinner, but I'm not quite hungry enough yet (due to the delicious complimentary Board Room snacks) so we stop to browse the Fireworks store, which is quite a unique and fun store to browse. Closer to nine, my mom decides to go check on our flight status. I stay, still browsing, until she comes back--practically in tears--and tells me our flight has been canceled.
Long story short, we had to stand in line for three hours only to be told they couldn't get us there until Sunday (this is Thursday night by the way), which is Day One of the ride. Mom all this time has been calling every airline she can think of with little to no success. Northwest can get us on a one-way flight into Buffalo tomorrow morning at ten-ish for $700 each. She had them book and hold that flight for the hour and a half we had left to stand in line, and once she was told AirTran (our current airline) couldn't accommodate us, she called Northwest back, in stressed tears, and booked our $1,400, one-way flight to Buffalo. The least AirTran could do was put us up in a Radisson suite for the four-five hours of sleep we could now look forward to before our flight the next morning. I bemoaned the fact that the room had no wet bar, as we would certainly have stowed everything in it for the airline to pay for.
The next morning's flight went nearly without a hitch; we skipped the long security line with Mom's Alaska Gold card, even though we weren't flying Alaska, got to the Board Room and had a long-awaited breakfast of complimentary toasted bagels, cream cheese and peanut butter (as we never had eaten dinner the night before), and did the crossword puzzle. When it's nearly time to board, we take the airport shuttle to the Northwest gates. I wait at the gate while Mom goes to see if we can possibly get better seats (we have two middle seats one row apart). She comes back completely exasperated, nearly in tears again, and tells me we have to go back to security because we'd been stamped for selected screening and hadn't been screened. So we go down to the nearest security checkpoint, which isn't too far, thank God, my mom tells her story in tears to the lady and guy as they pat us down and search our bags. They were quite sympathetic. By the time we get back to the gate, it's time to board. The rest of the trip really did go smoothly, other than my mom's nerves were completely shot.
In other news, do you have any idea how difficult it is to find Red Vines in New York? The food guy (Glen, we hung out all week. Crazy man.) didn't even know what they were. Do any of you New Yorkers know what they are? Well, I did get a free large package of Twizzlers out of it, and the riders enjoyed those, too, but the West Coast Contingent did miss the Red Vines. I don't know, people. With your green eyes and lack of Red Vines... I just don't know.
I have more ride stories, but let's suffice it to say I had an awesome time, as usual, got to see lots of friends from last year, and witnessed a wedding on Day Six. It was so incredible.
On our stay in NYC afterwards, my mother and I saw two musicals, Spamalot and Spring Awakening, both of which were unforgettable, the second made me cry. We were in the second row in the last two seats on stage left for Spamalot, but it was still awesome and we (rather I, as my mom was half asleep the entire time) noticed so much more than we would have in any other spot. I want to see it again when it comes to Seattle (like, now), and I want to see how much they charge to get into seat D101. Spring Awakening was just beautiful, beautiful and sad, and I need the soundtrack now. Which reminds me to download it. Now.
Monday afternoon my mom had scheduled a lunch with one of her donors and the editor of POZ Magazine. We ate at the Sea Grill in Rockafeller Center (I got a peek at the check after lunch; nearly $400) and talked for hours while I'm sitting there trying to eat all the bread without anyone noticing. Reagan, the editor, was pretty awesome, and she'd brought a friend/coworker with her, Nicole, who was also pretty sweet, but in general I was disgustingly bored and silent. This guy could talk forever. Once we'd finally left the restaurant, he insisted on walking over to Barnes and Noble to buy the two sets of us this book he'd talked about for twenty minutes (he's made of money, I swear to God). When we had finally parted ways and I finally got to pick the straw hair off Mom's jacket that had been there for the past three hours, we went to the TKTS booth to check for Spring Awakening tickets. And I think it was the night before that we'd eaten with some P.S. Riders at a little tapas restaurant in the district in which I've decided to reside when I'm on Broadway. Greenwich Village, I think? Anyway, we saw at least two drag queens and two trannies whilst searching for the restaurant, probably more, and you all know how I'm drawn to queens and trannies. Besides, the apartment buildings were gorgeous. Most of them had beautiful little fenced-in front gardens with huge old vines climbing all the way up the fire escape and beautiful flowers... Gah, it was awesome. A big University is around there, too. Might have to take more than one semester abroad.
Anyway, the AirTran flight home went without a hitch, thank God, and we arrived in Seattle to be greeted by my dad and my brother and we all went home together as a big happy family. It was lovely.
So that was the ride. At the moment, I'm trying to figure out what to pack and how to move and who actually owns the property I'm renting so I can figure out how to get my lease signed. I am also ticked at the stupid community college I'm trying to attend. I only want to go there for one quarter! I only want to take a couple classes! Yet the lady won't let me register until I've taken both the English and Math placement tests! I've already passed an English and Math class, damnit. Ugh. Besides, I don't want to take any Math or English classes. I want to take yoga, or tai-chi, or French or something. I am, however, slowly making a dent in my to-do list/s. The big thing I need to do next is reapply to Western. Probably past the due date again. Damn me and my procrastinating ways!
One thing I have been doing that I ought to be putting off is revamping my website. I got a new domain, http://www.forty-five-ballerina.net and am working on a new layout and more content. If you wanna see my new layout-in-process, go here. I'm kinda digging it, really.
Sigh. I really hope I don't end up a bum. I kinda want to be a librarian.
If you've been reading my LJ at all, you should at least harbor a tiny memory of the fact that I was crewing a bike ride this month. Well I did, and it was awesome, and I am back. Because this post is going to be so long, I have decided to put the LJ cut function to good use, so if you want to know more about my trip with dear old Mum, you may do so, and if you do not, you are a terrible friend I MEAN you may skip it. That said, here is the story:
So, while we didn't have to resort to pulling out our sleeping bags in the terminal, my mother and I did have a lovely overnight airport stay. In a nutshell, it was disgusting. We get to the airport hecka early because we got a ride from the neighbors who were picking up a relative. So we got there just before five o'clock. Our flight wasn't scheduled to even board until nine-ish, but my mom is an Alaska Gold member or something and has access to the Board Room, which is awesome, so we figure, hang out there 'til dinner, have dinner, go back to the Board Room 'til we board. Well, this plan was squashed only a bit when the lady checking our bags told us our flight was delayed and wouldn't be leaving until closer to twelve-thirty. We're a bit bummed, but it will still work out, and when the Board Room closes at ten-thirty we can just go hang out in the terminal as usual for an hour and a half. So we go to the Board Room, have some complimentary veggies and soup, and do the crossword puzzle. At around eight-ish, we set off to find dinner, but I'm not quite hungry enough yet (due to the delicious complimentary Board Room snacks) so we stop to browse the Fireworks store, which is quite a unique and fun store to browse. Closer to nine, my mom decides to go check on our flight status. I stay, still browsing, until she comes back--practically in tears--and tells me our flight has been canceled.
Long story short, we had to stand in line for three hours only to be told they couldn't get us there until Sunday (this is Thursday night by the way), which is Day One of the ride. Mom all this time has been calling every airline she can think of with little to no success. Northwest can get us on a one-way flight into Buffalo tomorrow morning at ten-ish for $700 each. She had them book and hold that flight for the hour and a half we had left to stand in line, and once she was told AirTran (our current airline) couldn't accommodate us, she called Northwest back, in stressed tears, and booked our $1,400, one-way flight to Buffalo. The least AirTran could do was put us up in a Radisson suite for the four-five hours of sleep we could now look forward to before our flight the next morning. I bemoaned the fact that the room had no wet bar, as we would certainly have stowed everything in it for the airline to pay for.
The next morning's flight went nearly without a hitch; we skipped the long security line with Mom's Alaska Gold card, even though we weren't flying Alaska, got to the Board Room and had a long-awaited breakfast of complimentary toasted bagels, cream cheese and peanut butter (as we never had eaten dinner the night before), and did the crossword puzzle. When it's nearly time to board, we take the airport shuttle to the Northwest gates. I wait at the gate while Mom goes to see if we can possibly get better seats (we have two middle seats one row apart). She comes back completely exasperated, nearly in tears again, and tells me we have to go back to security because we'd been stamped for selected screening and hadn't been screened. So we go down to the nearest security checkpoint, which isn't too far, thank God, my mom tells her story in tears to the lady and guy as they pat us down and search our bags. They were quite sympathetic. By the time we get back to the gate, it's time to board. The rest of the trip really did go smoothly, other than my mom's nerves were completely shot.
In other news, do you have any idea how difficult it is to find Red Vines in New York? The food guy (Glen, we hung out all week. Crazy man.) didn't even know what they were. Do any of you New Yorkers know what they are? Well, I did get a free large package of Twizzlers out of it, and the riders enjoyed those, too, but the West Coast Contingent did miss the Red Vines. I don't know, people. With your green eyes and lack of Red Vines... I just don't know.
I have more ride stories, but let's suffice it to say I had an awesome time, as usual, got to see lots of friends from last year, and witnessed a wedding on Day Six. It was so incredible.
On our stay in NYC afterwards, my mother and I saw two musicals, Spamalot and Spring Awakening, both of which were unforgettable, the second made me cry. We were in the second row in the last two seats on stage left for Spamalot, but it was still awesome and we (rather I, as my mom was half asleep the entire time) noticed so much more than we would have in any other spot. I want to see it again when it comes to Seattle (like, now), and I want to see how much they charge to get into seat D101. Spring Awakening was just beautiful, beautiful and sad, and I need the soundtrack now. Which reminds me to download it. Now.
Monday afternoon my mom had scheduled a lunch with one of her donors and the editor of POZ Magazine. We ate at the Sea Grill in Rockafeller Center (I got a peek at the check after lunch; nearly $400) and talked for hours while I'm sitting there trying to eat all the bread without anyone noticing. Reagan, the editor, was pretty awesome, and she'd brought a friend/coworker with her, Nicole, who was also pretty sweet, but in general I was disgustingly bored and silent. This guy could talk forever. Once we'd finally left the restaurant, he insisted on walking over to Barnes and Noble to buy the two sets of us this book he'd talked about for twenty minutes (he's made of money, I swear to God). When we had finally parted ways and I finally got to pick the straw hair off Mom's jacket that had been there for the past three hours, we went to the TKTS booth to check for Spring Awakening tickets. And I think it was the night before that we'd eaten with some P.S. Riders at a little tapas restaurant in the district in which I've decided to reside when I'm on Broadway. Greenwich Village, I think? Anyway, we saw at least two drag queens and two trannies whilst searching for the restaurant, probably more, and you all know how I'm drawn to queens and trannies. Besides, the apartment buildings were gorgeous. Most of them had beautiful little fenced-in front gardens with huge old vines climbing all the way up the fire escape and beautiful flowers... Gah, it was awesome. A big University is around there, too. Might have to take more than one semester abroad.
Anyway, the AirTran flight home went without a hitch, thank God, and we arrived in Seattle to be greeted by my dad and my brother and we all went home together as a big happy family. It was lovely.
So that was the ride. At the moment, I'm trying to figure out what to pack and how to move and who actually owns the property I'm renting so I can figure out how to get my lease signed. I am also ticked at the stupid community college I'm trying to attend. I only want to go there for one quarter! I only want to take a couple classes! Yet the lady won't let me register until I've taken both the English and Math placement tests! I've already passed an English and Math class, damnit. Ugh. Besides, I don't want to take any Math or English classes. I want to take yoga, or tai-chi, or French or something. I am, however, slowly making a dent in my to-do list/s. The big thing I need to do next is reapply to Western. Probably past the due date again. Damn me and my procrastinating ways!
One thing I have been doing that I ought to be putting off is revamping my website. I got a new domain, http://www.forty-five-ballerina.net and am working on a new layout and more content. If you wanna see my new layout-in-process, go here. I'm kinda digging it, really.
Sigh. I really hope I don't end up a bum. I kinda want to be a librarian.