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It was a great big world, with lots of places to run to

5:45am. I AM FREEZING. Why is it so damn cold? Oh, because I put the fan on high last night because I hoped all that noise would help me sleep in a little longer because when I’m excited I can’t sleep. So I haven’t slept in days. I’m running on about 10 h0urs sleep in three days. I’m not the prettiest sight right now. But, the fan plan (hee!) was not the best, as we’re having some sort of cold snap and now it’s a FREEZER in here. Also, Dumbcat decided to sleep with me because he TOTALLY knows something is up, but he’s ALSO freezing, so he decided to make himself into my Russian fur hat (Wikipedia says that’s called a ushanka, I just call it a Dumbcat hat) so now my allergies have acted up and my eyes are all swollen up and I’m completely congested. DAMMIT DAMMIT.

Imagine this, but made of a Dumbcat.

6:00am. It is amazing to me how many people are awake on Twitter at the moment. It’s 6am on a SUNDAY. Why aren’t you people ASLEEP? Obviously not you people in other time zones. You have a reason. But the rest of you should be in BED. ASLEEP. Good grief. Also, Dumbcat is so excited I’m awake this early on a weekend that he cannot contain himself. His way of showing this is to stand in front of me wherever I walk and then NOT MOVE. So I almost trip and die. I’m starting to think I’m going to not make it to Florida, because I’m going to die of a Dumbcat-induced broken neck. I don’t want to spend my nine days off in traction due to Dumbcat wanting to be glued to my legs.

6:15am. I just ate breakfast and now I have over six hours to wait until I can leave for the airport. I am ANTSY. I keep adding things to my suitcase and my backpack and now I can barely close them. Listen, I’m going to be gone for a week. Who knows what I will need for a week? All the things, is what. And I don’t want to get to Florida and need something that’s all the way in New York. I’m having separation anxiety from my things and I haven’t left yet.

7am. Might as well write a blog post. WANT TO GO TO FLORIDA NOW.

9am-12pm. Watch television. Check watch every five minutes. Sigh like a fancy lady of leisure. This is how I know I would never be good at being incarcerated. Waiting for anything would KILL me.

12:15 pm. Get an email from the library that some of my books are going to be due back while I’m in Florida. Curse at my poor planning. Grab my things and leave the house earlier than planned in order to return them.

12:45-3:15pm. Drive to the airport. Listen to music at unreasonably high levels. See ALL THE PEOPLE pulled over for speeding. Consider not speeding. Realize that not speeding would be like not breathing. Continue to merrily speed.

3:15pm. Get to the exit for the airport. Realize I have never BEEN to this airport. There seem to be signs. Follow the signs. The signs stop. All of a sudden, BAM, THERE IS THE AIRPORT. I feel like there should have been better signage. I wave apologetically at the person who was following behind me for almost causing him to rear-end me (NO NOT A EUPHEMISM) and turn in.

3:30pm. Call Dad as promised. He is FREAKED OUT that I am only two hours and fifteen minutes early for checkin. “Aren’t I supposed to be two hours early?” I ask. “Yes, but you KNOW I always get places at LEAST an hour earlier than they tell me to. I would have BEEN there by now.” I sigh.

3:35 pm. I walk into the airport and am immediately confused by what I’m supposed to do. In front of me is security. So I assume I’m supposed to go through security? I attempt to do so. The very nice man at security tells me I have to get a boarding pass first. Dammit. I already fail airports. I go over to the airline and get my boarding pass, then head back to security. I haven’t been on a plane, as I mentioned, in 12 years. This security thing boggles the mind. And also makes me sad. Seeing grownups take off their shoes and stand in an x-ray machine in a weird stance just to get on a plane made me mad at the terrorists all over again. HOWEVER, I had been prepared for all the hoopla and people pulling crap all willy-nilly out of my luggage and being questioned in a small room by very loud people and none of that happened. I think because I was grinning like a moron because I was so excited about my vacation.

THE TERRORISTS WON.

3:50pm. I can’t figure out where I’m supposed to wait for my plane. The problem seems to be that none of the signs in this airport are in English. Yes, the airport is in the States. But it’s close to the border. And almost everyone here is Canadian. Luckily, I have 5 years of high school French and two years of college French under my belt, so “pour les avions Allegiant, allons-y” with an arrow pointing up some stairs wasn’t the most confusing thing ever. However, I did overthink it and wonder, is this only for French people? Why isn’t the sign in English, too?

4pm -5pm. I waited and waited and waited. Everyone in the waiting room spoke French. The children spoke French. The adults spoke French. I felt like I was in a foreign land. I looked for my cousin I was supposed to find, but no luck. There were a lot of people there and I hadn’t seen him in twenty years. I didn’t know what he looked like now. I just gave up. Twitter kept me entertained. Also, I had a new Stephen King book. And a crappy MP3 player that I can’t figure out how to reload with music so it has the same songs I loaded five years ago. All is well. Ready to be there already, but all is well. MAN is this a long day.

5pm. My mom’s plane lands so I meet her at her gate, which is also my gate, to say hi. She asks if I’ve gone to the bathroom. I reply that I am almost forty, and am pretty good at knowing when I have to pee. A woman comes over and says hi to us. It is my cousin’s wife. Apparently, they’ve known where I was THE WHOLE TIME but didn’t say hi. Why do you hate me, cousins? So I didn’t even get to do my good and funny trick of pretending to be a nefarious ne’er-do-well. Also, my dad told me when looking for my cousin, to look for a tall, handsome man with a gorgeous wife and two little kids. My cousin is my height, extremely average-looking, his wife is pretty enough, and his kids might be young, but they’re tall enough they’d never pass for little. It’s like his family was undercover as another family. FAIL. (Also, I apparently am old, because my cousin’s only a couple years older than I am, and he looks old. Dammit.)

5:30pm. The plane starts boarding. The guy boarding the plane apparently took lessons from these people:

Buh bye. BUH-BYE.

He was the WORST. He kept saying these passive-aggressive inside-jokey things over the intercom, like “If you are old enough to HOLD a boarding pass, PLEASE DO. Thank youuuuu” and then he and the other guy working the gate would giggle like trolls. I hated him the most. Sir, if your life is so sad that the highlight of it is being a jackhole at the loading gate of an airline, please reevaluate. Thanks ever so.

5:45pm-8:45pm. Flying isn’t really the worst thing ever. I got a row all to myself and just read and listened to music until it was over. Easy as pie. There were some weird soccer players sitting next to me who were super-loud, but I just ignored them. When the flight took off, one of them refused to sit. My cousin, who is apparently a big deal cop now, turned around and in his big-deal-cop voice, was all, “YOU NEED TO BE SITTING NOW” and that guy popped into his seat like a chastened child. I giggled. It was impressive. Also, is it a thing that there is never free food or beverage service on a plane anymore? Since when? The cart went by twice and you had to PAY for food and drinks. I mean, I brought my own because I’m cheap but it seemed weird. It was like $5 for a bag of Ritz Bits and some M&Ms or whatever. Or $7 for a mixed drink the size of my thumb. No, thanks.

8:45pm. We land. I call my Dad, as requested. “WHERE ARE YOU,” he asked. I tell him Albuquerque. He is not amused. He is waiting for me when I get to the bottom of the TALLEST ESCALATOR KNOWN TO MAN ZOMG. By the way, I hate escalators, I think they’re going to eat my feet.

8:45pm-9:25pm. We drive back to the condo. Dad drives SLOOOWWWW. We get caught in a drag race with a monster truck and a car. The monster truck has a dead deer painted on the side. A little way up the road, the monster truck is pulled off the side of the road and smells like burning death. Dad says the clutch burned out. That makes me laugh.

NOW I AM HERE.

The condo is lovely. Last night when I got here, I went to the ocean and put my feet in and giggled like a child. Here is the view from the balcony this morning:

I am attempting to teach Dad that the internet is non-scary. So far I have shown him photos of some of my people. To each of them, he said, “Killer.” This is not the best experiment, but I am undaunted.

Today we are going to WALMART. You know. As you do. On vacation.

More excitement soon!

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About lucysfootball

I'm not the girl with the most cake. Someday. SOMEDAY. View all posts by lucysfootball

27 responses to “It was a great big world, with lots of places to run to

  • greengeekgirl

    Lily ALSO does the thing where she gets right in front of me and stops. Her favorite place to do this? ON THE STAIRS, where I’m already naturally in some peril from my innate clumsiness. She also loves to streak up and down the stairs while I’m walking down them, not minding if she runs right into me and makes me fall down the stairs. I think this is a secret plot my cats have hatched so they can have Mr. Geek all to themselves.

    Like

  • Chris Tomaso

    I guess responding to your tweet with “I hate you” didn’t do a lot to endear your dad to your internet friends…

    Like

  • ProfMomEsq

    The ocean, monster trucks, airplanes, and WALMART?!? Who’s the bon vivant now, huh?

    I’m so glad you got there safe. Please tell your dad that I’m sure at least a few of us are not going to kill you or our morning coffee would be so much less interesting.

    Now go find some turtles!

    Like

  • Kris Rudin

    Hi back, Atlantic Ocean!! Miss you! Please give Amy some turtles to see. Oh, and dolphins! Kthxbai!

    Like

  • sj

    I am not thrilled that I will be walking around singing Tom Petty all day, but other than that – YAY, YOU’RE THERE!

    Like

  • elaine4queen

    1. your cousin out-punked you. for shame! that sneakyfucker!

    2. ‘police voice’ – i can do that too! i have a ‘teacher face’ which allows me to chasitse other people’s children without them knowing about it. it’s a very handy skill.

    3. that’s domestic flights for you. international ones always force at least a sandwich down your gullet even if they are short.

    4. WAIT! am *i* a killer? if so, i want an award for it.

    Like

  • lahikmajoe

    I’ve never been to WalMart on vacation. Can’t imagine altering that now, but maybe I’ll blog from WalMart later in May. Maybe not.

    Like

  • Andreas Heinakroon

    Of course you hate escalators – you just wouldn’t be Amy if you didn’t.

    Like

  • Andreas Heinakroon

    That ushanka seems furrier than mine. Also, I call ushankas pälskarbus for reasons I don’t quite understand myself. I haven’t been able to trace the origin of that word in any known language so far. It doesn’t seem to be Russian, Swedish or Finnish. It’s a mystery, really.

    Like

    • lucysfootball

      Did you make up a word? I love that!

      I call knit caps “toques” because I grew up near Canada & that’s the French-Canadian (I believe?) word for them. People look at me weird. I don’t mind. :)

      Like

  • jeffrecitestheblues

    Your father is just like my Ma as far as the internet is concerned. The fact that I even have a single photo of myself on here stresses her out. She was that parent in school that checked the “You do NOT have permission to photograph my child” box on forms.
    The part where they knew where you were the whole time, the cousins, and then come over to you once your mother is there kills me. Family is weird sometimes, man.

    Like

  • blogginglily

    I love that you and your dad vacationed together. I hope I can keep my relationship with the kiddos going strong like that. It just makes me all warm and fuzzy. . . and in my mind you are Emma or Lily and I am your crotchety cahootery dad driving you slowly around to see the sights.

    I built a fire tonight on the patio after Lily went to sleep (don’t worry, we have a little fire pit. . . I didn’t burn down the house or anything) cause Lily and fire. . . not a good combo. . . and we roasted marshmallows and it was nice. . .

    Then everyone else went to bed and I got on my phone and started reading your blog because I’ve been foresaking my favorite blogs due to all the busy-ness. And I smoked a cigar and drank a few beers. . . and well. . . it was a nice evening.

    Then End.

    Like

  • doesmybumlookbiginthis

    Wow that picture is gorgeous! I mean, the ocean is gorgeous! :) Also, i’d love to go to walmart haha, i think i’d be underwhelmed though xx

    Like

    • lucysfootball

      You’d be totally underwhelmed. Well, no, maybe it would be fun the first time! But after that, you’d be bored. Target is better – a little more expensive, but I like the store so much better. I always shop at Target over Walmart, if I have a chance!

      Oh, the ocean was so beautiful. I already miss it!

      Like

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