I wrote an entire post in Word while sitting at the gate at LAX on Wednesday night, waiting for my on-time plane to Sacto, and marveling at how easily everything had gone compared to the fiasco of Friday last. You see, when my hour-late plane landed on that fateful day, my youngest sister and her boyfriend were sitting in traffic on the 105 freeway, stuck between the Nash Ave and Sepulveda exits. This is where they would remain. For more than 2 additional hours. While I stood and waited at the curb in Arrivals, calling to ask where they were every 15 minutes or so and fighting the urge to cry. OK, actually, I spent part of the time eating an orange. Oh, and I took advantage of a free moment to work on some balancing exercises. But the phrase "fighting the urge to cry" is so much more dramatic, doncha think?
Anyway. When Mom and I drove at full freeway speed to the airport on the day after Christmas with nary a slowdown, and it took a scant 20 minutes to check my luggage and 10 more minutes to fly through security, I thought it was my lucky day.
I am a dumbfuck.
That is when I had to scrap that stupid post.
My plane landed on time all right. I made it to the girl's room without incident (did you know that, um, occasional accidents are a side effect of diabetes? I DIDN'T EITHER!). But when I got down to baggage claim, my luggage didn't.
I'm not sure how long it took me to realize that they weren't coming. I think it was when I saw that my fellow passengers had all disappeared, and I found them in Southwest's baggage office, that it dawned on me there was a problem. I got to wait in line for God knows how long to fill out a form instructing them where to deliver my bags. It wouldn't be until the next morning since they had been left on a cart at LAX and missed the last flight out.
Motherfucker.
There was no creative option for where they could put them. Bastards.
I didn't make it home until well after midnight. Sometime around 3 I realized I had an awful cold on top of it.
Sick of my whining yet?
Good, because I am all done. I can now tell you that everything in between went very well. Not as fun to hear, huh?
I was going to post a picture of me baking at my mom's church last Saturday night. It was after midnight, and we had been baking for like 3 hours. We went there because there are 2 commercial grade ovens and tons of counter space. And mom's house already looked like Christmas threw up in it. What? We left some cookies for the Sunday school kids. But I forgot that I haven't uploaded it yet. The picture, I mean. So I will post it tomorrow. Ish.
I finished my last minute shopping with little bloodshed. Everyone at least pretended to like their gifts. The Chipmunk even made my day by excitedly showing her mommy the framed picture I had given her of us in front of It's a Small World. I think it was mostly the fact that it was Disneyland, but since I figured she would toss it aside for the mini Etch-a-sketch I got her (she was all over that later), I took it as a win. My sister and BIL loved the beanie I had gotten for Ruffle Butt that I was so uncertain of, my youngest sister and her boyfriend seemed very happy with the myriad kitchen crap I got them in spite of the fact that they probably won't use it for months as they both still live at home, and my mom was excited that I listened to her when she said that she liked that Celtic Woman stuff. Dad is always happy because I almost always get him CDs he loves...this time one of them he loved so much that he already had it.
I got to spend 2 full days with the girls while their parents had to work. Nobody shouted at anyone else. I only missed one day of work with the cold my dad was so kind as to pass on. I eventually got my luggage back.
Ooh, and I got surprise jewelry from the parentals. I will post pics of that, too.
Yeah, Christmas was good.
Now onto New Years. Plans are still up in the air since I'm still getting over this cold and everyone is still getting over the holidays.
I do know that this year, instead of having a stuffed white tiger scare the bejesus out of me, it will be the collection of moving boxes still sitting across from my neighbor's apartment, next to the stairs I go up and down everyday, that will likely annoy me. There at least 3 weeks, people. Maybe I will throw them all over the railing. Maybe I will knock on their door and tell them to get rid of them or I will report them to management. Or maybe I will silently fume and post pictures of them on my blog. That will show them.
