When It Rains, It Pours: April [arrange, FLY]

5 Jun

So-rry!  I know I’m in the middle of a story, but I’m getting kind of board re-hashing it.  It happened more then a month ago now.  Which–blog lesson–is why you should write things as they happen and as you are excited about them.  It gives the blogger more motivation, helps keep details fresh in the mind, and lends immediacy to the story.  I’m really going to try to be better and put blogging back in my routine.  Right now it feels like a chore, but I used to WANT to do it, and think of posting concepts all the time.

Anyway, I’m in Salt Lake.  But only for a week before I have to go baaaaack to SpoKompton.  My car is there.  The apartment hasn’t been cleaned even a little bit, and I have a house-sitting job that will pay WELL (understatement).  Cool starts work, so I am left alone to unpack and set up the apartment. I’m glad for it, because setting up the new place is the fun part about moving.

When we get to Utah, I think–it will immediately be the warm side of spring, lots hotter than Washington, and certainly less gray.  In actuality, it is still grey, 50 degrees in the morning (and sometimes longer) and pouring rain.  Big, storms that make parking-lots lakes, and last for hours to days.  In short–it’s worse!  We don’t get to explore our new city during the day–so we continue to watch “Friends” as we had in WA.

silvver hearse

So I unpack and organize and Cool works.  Then, I have to fly back to SpoKompton Sunday.  My flight leaves at 6AM–good for productivity, bad for waking up, treadmilling, showering, and driving.  TOO EARLY.  Waking up at 4AM wasn’t good enough, so we were running late.  And of course, it was raining very hard.  And the road to the airport is DARK (get some lights SLC!) so it was tretcherous.  But that didn’t stop the other cars from speeding around.  And the GPS acted up so we missed our turn.

The ride was dangerous and stressful.

I arrived at the airport 45 minutes prior to my flight and it was JUST enough time.

By the time I got through security, I was cutting it close.  I made the first leg of my flight, then had a 40 minute layover in Seattle.  I had wanted to pee (I had to go as SOON as I sat down on the plane, but refuse to use that type of bathroom) and get some caffeine.  Then the escalator to the underground tunnel to take me to my proper gate was out of order.  I had to walk through the ENTIRE airport to get to the other one.  Luckily, I am a fast walker–slow people would have missed their plane.  When I got to the gate on my ticket, it was empty.  And said L.A.  What in the world?  I knew I hadn’t missed my flight, especially by so much they had moved to the next sign.  I went to the counter and asked about it and the woman pointed across the room–my plane had probably changed so we were at a different gate.  Thanks for telling me. . .  And as I suspected, my plane has already boarded!  I gave my ticket to the agent by my new gate’s door and was told my seats changed, I had to go back to the desk to get a new ticket?!  Even though I was running late, I went baaaack to the counter and she printed my new ticket.  I was all ready to fuss about the lack of communication and all the changes, til I looked at my new ticket and I had been upgraded from seat 35 to seat 7.  I’ll take it!  But there would be no bathroom break or coffee for me–much sadness.

I was finally able to board my plane, and found they waited so long because it was a “light-load” meaning there were maybe 28 of us.  Which seemed to me that I should be paying a lot less, and they should probably be using a tiny plane to save fuel, but whatever–I was on my way back to Spokompton.

We had the slowest descent I’ve ever been a part of.  The plane literally stopped several times, poked through the fog, then poked elsewhere.  And I really, really had to pee.  But I made it.  And it was only 9AM, which was beautiful!  It was awesome having the entire day in front of me–even if it was full of obligations and cleaning.

My Aunt had agreed to pick me up at the airport.  So instead of stopping in the bathroom and dealing with luggage, I figured I would meet her first so she could watch my bags and I could go unencumbered.  Except when I greeted her and asked what time she got there she said 10 til (it was 9AM), and I clarified 10 til 9?  No, 8.  Ugh–my Aunt had been standing there for 70 minutes–so I felt I shouldn’t make her wait any longer for me to find a bathroom.  I’d have to wait til we got to her house.

She led us to the parking lot, then stood in the middle of a row, lost and confused.  Are you kidding me?!  [this in my head] She didn’t know where the eff she had parked.  I was really annoyed and had to pee, but just followed her around the many lots for 20 minutes while she looked for the car. . .  Who doesn’t have a key fob to beep these days?  My Aunt, that’s who.

We finally got in the car and were chatting on the drive out of the airport.  Then she changed lanes and so severely cut off a car in that lane that the other driver had to swerve all the way into the median–which luckily, was wide.  My Aunt’s reaction to almost having caused a car accident, “Oh I think she’s maaad at me-she flipped me off.”  She was worried she had angered the other driver–not that she could have killed us or totaled both cars.

She tried to chat with me again, and I was like, oh no–you need to concentrate on driving.  My Aunt is a very $hitty driver.  Sunday morning traffic is light so I was glad for that.  But I made a mental note never to ride with her again.  And I was VERY happy about my decision to take my car keys with me.

We finally got to her house, and I had to do the forever pee.  I wanted to leave after that to take advantage of the 3 hours of empty stores to get some Spackle and groceries.  On Sunday mornings people are either at church or hungover, so it’s one of the few times the grocery stores are bearable.  Also I wanted to take a nap and clean, but they pressed me to stay so I was forced to chat for politeness.  I hate that!

They mentioned they wanted to “move my car up” yeah sure, I thought.  I knew they would have been driving Rusty around had I left the keys.  My car was flush against the trash cans they had told me to park in front of–it was unnecessary to move it.  And they kept me til 11:30AM, so I lost my empty grocery store times >-[

Next I’ll tell about the condition of the apartment, house-sitting, and my 2nd trip to Utah.

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