Well, THAT was fun!
What a messs! I wound up with three cancelled flights and my car rented out from under me. As I was sitting at the gate on Friday, flights to the northeast were being cancelled right and left. Ours was the last plane to leave for Newark, and it only did that becuase it was already here. The ones that had to fly down from NYC couldn't make it.
The flight was turbulant as hell, necessitating the untimely halt of the drink serving (i.e. before me!) and when we landed, the runway was a. deserted, and b. so icy I was sure we were gonna skid all the way to Alaska. Thankfully, we didn't, but we waited on the tarmac for a good three hours as they tried to plow us a way to the gate. Not that it snowed that much, because it didn't, but there was ALOT of ice.
So finally we get to a gate, I get my bag, find the car rental agency (hint: they try harder. NOT!) only to find there are no cars left, INCLUDING the one I've already PAID for and was assured would be waiting for me. I'm fuming, of course, but finally the manager comes up with one and I'm off, driving down the NJ turnpike and parkway to god knows where (I've never been to my folks' house since they moved) sure I'm about to be killed by the crazy drivers and not having driven in snow and ice in like 10 years or more.
My lovely brother gives me wrong directions and I wind up 17 miles from the shore. Luckilly, it's a beach I know, so I don't panic, figuring I can stay in a hotel for the night and try again in the morning, but on a lark, I call my brother, who pretends to be someone else (he could teach Colin a thing or three about impressions) and he gets me back on track.
I finally get to my parents' house where my brother, who has somehow managed to keep the secret for lo these long months, has called my dad to hear his reaction. I get out of the car and all I can hear is "Oh my god, Oh my god" and the door flies open and my father, the least emotional man I've ever met, is sobbing. Seemed my bro kept the secret. My mother's sobbing, too but she cries over anything so that's nothing new. So that was cool.
I got the whole tour whch wasn't bad. Then the next day, again armed with faulty directions, go up about a half hour north to visit with my brother and his children, one of whom is almost 2 and I've never even met. They were totally strung out and I was in agony but the night was fun. I stayed over for the night and drove back home in the morning for the party.
Turns out, all the aunts and uncles came, and they were surprised, too, which was cool, but it was non stop hyper fest from morning to night and by the next morning, I was at the end of my rope. Stressed out to the max and ready to find a belltower somewhere, a 30.06 and start shooting people type end of my rope. I'm not used to that much company and loudness and drunkenness.
I was supposed to go back with my parents the next day to babysit the kids but I just couldn't, so I waited a few hours until I knew my brother would be home and drove up. He wasn't home. Didn't get home till a little before 10, but I waited because I hadn't seen him in so long and I do love him dearly. He's a good man and a great father.
Drove back to the parents' house after midnight, went to sleep, woke up stressed out again. Went past where my father was trying to figure out my grandmother's medical bills and he started yelling at me and I snapped. Just totally lost it. Screamed and cried aand all that shit, telling him I was 43 years old and not a fucking child to be bullied. I honestly felt like I was losing my fucking mind. Things calmed down eventually and we were able to spend our last civil hours together. Then I drove about 3 miles to meet Clay. A couple hour meeting turned into more than 4 and I thought I'd miss my flight out of there.
Of course not! My 7:15 flight didn't leave until after 10 and I didn't get home till 1am. It sucked royally though it was really REALLY good to see my kids again. *g* Not at work today because of the flight delays, but will probably go in tomorrow. Need the money.
I could sleep for a year and a half.
Grrr.
The flight was turbulant as hell, necessitating the untimely halt of the drink serving (i.e. before me!) and when we landed, the runway was a. deserted, and b. so icy I was sure we were gonna skid all the way to Alaska. Thankfully, we didn't, but we waited on the tarmac for a good three hours as they tried to plow us a way to the gate. Not that it snowed that much, because it didn't, but there was ALOT of ice.
So finally we get to a gate, I get my bag, find the car rental agency (hint: they try harder. NOT!) only to find there are no cars left, INCLUDING the one I've already PAID for and was assured would be waiting for me. I'm fuming, of course, but finally the manager comes up with one and I'm off, driving down the NJ turnpike and parkway to god knows where (I've never been to my folks' house since they moved) sure I'm about to be killed by the crazy drivers and not having driven in snow and ice in like 10 years or more.
My lovely brother gives me wrong directions and I wind up 17 miles from the shore. Luckilly, it's a beach I know, so I don't panic, figuring I can stay in a hotel for the night and try again in the morning, but on a lark, I call my brother, who pretends to be someone else (he could teach Colin a thing or three about impressions) and he gets me back on track.
I finally get to my parents' house where my brother, who has somehow managed to keep the secret for lo these long months, has called my dad to hear his reaction. I get out of the car and all I can hear is "Oh my god, Oh my god" and the door flies open and my father, the least emotional man I've ever met, is sobbing. Seemed my bro kept the secret. My mother's sobbing, too but she cries over anything so that's nothing new. So that was cool.
I got the whole tour whch wasn't bad. Then the next day, again armed with faulty directions, go up about a half hour north to visit with my brother and his children, one of whom is almost 2 and I've never even met. They were totally strung out and I was in agony but the night was fun. I stayed over for the night and drove back home in the morning for the party.
Turns out, all the aunts and uncles came, and they were surprised, too, which was cool, but it was non stop hyper fest from morning to night and by the next morning, I was at the end of my rope. Stressed out to the max and ready to find a belltower somewhere, a 30.06 and start shooting people type end of my rope. I'm not used to that much company and loudness and drunkenness.
I was supposed to go back with my parents the next day to babysit the kids but I just couldn't, so I waited a few hours until I knew my brother would be home and drove up. He wasn't home. Didn't get home till a little before 10, but I waited because I hadn't seen him in so long and I do love him dearly. He's a good man and a great father.
Drove back to the parents' house after midnight, went to sleep, woke up stressed out again. Went past where my father was trying to figure out my grandmother's medical bills and he started yelling at me and I snapped. Just totally lost it. Screamed and cried aand all that shit, telling him I was 43 years old and not a fucking child to be bullied. I honestly felt like I was losing my fucking mind. Things calmed down eventually and we were able to spend our last civil hours together. Then I drove about 3 miles to meet Clay. A couple hour meeting turned into more than 4 and I thought I'd miss my flight out of there.
Of course not! My 7:15 flight didn't leave until after 10 and I didn't get home till 1am. It sucked royally though it was really REALLY good to see my kids again. *g* Not at work today because of the flight delays, but will probably go in tomorrow. Need the money.
I could sleep for a year and a half.
Grrr.