Thursday, January 22, 2009

Airport Drama

Okay, I'm sorry guys! I have been rather busy and when I'm not busy, well, I've just been lazy.  But, as promised I will get to the nitty gritty of my trip home. 


 My flight left on a Tuesday at 7:20AM.   I stayed in town to cut down on my driving time to the airport.  It takes 30 minutes from town.  I went to be at a decent hour, sober, and set my alarm clock on my phone. As there is not a clock radio where I am staying.  I plug my phone into the wall to charge it.  In the morning, Jeff happens to wake up at 7 and yell at me.  My alarm clock has NOT gone off because my phone TURNED OFF in the middle of the night (but still fully charged).  I run out of the house in my pajamas, tossing my toothbrush in my purse.  Haul ass to the airport, but alas, had missed the check in for my plane. (As small as Jackson Hole airport is, I still was not able to make it). I call my mom, in tears, and tell her I have missed my flight.  They couldn't get me on another flight, because there was only one more that day. It went to Chicago and left at 6pm, thus making me spend the night in the O'hare airport. But I am booked for the morning flight tomorrow. Same time, same place.  So I went to work. Yes, people, I am that lame that I go to work when I'm upset and have an extra day on my hands. But in exchange for going to work that day, taking my shift back, Candy (who was covering that day) planned to cover my shift the following Wednesday.  The plan was to still have 5 days in Birmingham.  Anyway, I work an eight hour shift, went and bought an alarm clock,  took a shower ate a nice meal, watched a movie and went to sleep early, this time setting THREE alarms. 

The next morning. 5:45, the alarms go off, I get up and brush my teeth, get dressed, even had enough time to put on a little make-up (I'm southern: you're supposed to look nice when you fly).   I drive, leisurely to the airport, and call my mother to let her know I am up and en route. The weather looks nice in town, so I'm sure that I will be in Birmingham by five o'clock. 

I pull up to the airport, get out of the car in the five degree weather, and go inside.  When I get up to the counter I am informed that ALL flights out of Jackson are canceled.  I am booked on the next flight tomorrow.  Same time, same place. 

Crying hysterically, I call my mother. Tell her I'm not coming home at all now.  She tells me to just try again tomorrow if tomorrow I still don't get on a plane, she understands.  Next I call my Daddy, my knight in shinning, armor (with constant, super-fast access to the Internet at his fingertips at ALL TIMES).  "I want to go home!" I cried.  "It's cold and I'm home-sick and I want to see MY FRIENDS."  

Daddy, to the rescue calls back just as I pulled into town.  "I've got you booked on the 3:30 flight out of Salt Lake City." You have one stop in Atlanta and will be in Birmingham by 10 this evening." 

DONE.  I've been looking for an excuse to take a road trip in the new Subie.

I head by work, grab a latte and head out. On the way there I pass through the North Pole:

Was not very happy about the drive anymore.

But then I made it through Idaho Falls and on the interstate.  Once on I-15, the road conditions were beautiful and the thermostat in the car was slowly rising.  Once I got to where I could see, the scenery was breathtaking:

I made it to Salt Lake with several hours to spare. I checked in, sailed through security, went to the airport bar, drank two 3.5% alcohol beers (Mormon state, ya know), had a veggie burger and made some new friends. I got on the plane without a hitch, and made it to Birmingham at 9:45.  

Mom picked me up, and took me to her house.  I took a shower, and Megan came to pick me up.  We had a chill night, complete with my two favorite people in the world...

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