Well this morning my dad drove us to the airport in Omaha, three hours away. We started late because well it is hard to get all of us out the door on time. Then instead of driving to the freeway he drove into town. Which is normally fine but when you are trying to make a flight being behind a tractor is no fun. Almost to the airport running a half hour late, and my baby sister starts throwing up, EGGS! Yikes I am such a sympathetic vomiter and after three hours in the back of the car I was close anyway.
So fast forward, my Utah license is expired so I have to go through EVERY extra security measure that has ever been invented. Then on the flight to Denver that was delayed we are seated next to scary larry from pedophile central who is taking up his seat and katy's. He is rubbing his leg against her and she is laughing uncontrollably to try and cover the awkwardness of it all but really only increasing it. I wasn't 100% sure what was going on so I kept staring at him to figure out what was making katy laugh so hard. I am sure he was thinking "what is that girls freaking problem."
Anyway we made it to Denver and no worries about making our connecting flight since the flight was all kinds of delayed. On that flight I got to sit next to miss, I'm 45 and trying to look 16. She was bright orange, her hair was HUGE and her heels were... well they were. Anyway half way through the flight she hands me her copy of US Weekly and says "here honey it looks like you could use this." Umm What is that suppose to mean?
My sister's BFF picked us up from the airport and took me to pick up my car at my stepmom's parents house in West Valley. I started Sanchez (my car) up and was scraping the window while my sister got in the car to grab her ipod adapter and proceeded to lock the door. So now I am sitting there with everything locked in my running car in West Valley and no one is home at the house so we finally decided to call a lock smith. While we are waiting a huge molester van kept circling the block really slow. SCARY! I was praying it wasn't the lock smith.
He came, eventually, in a normal looking honda civic and opened my door... with a coat hanger. I was on my way. I want to say that I am grateful for good friends who called and found us a locksmith and mostly for lindsay who made sure I had all the diet coke, I needed upon my arrival at her home. Which oh let's not leave this out, I missed her exit, TWICE!
As adventurous as today has been it was all fixed by Linds, a diet coke, and a good long inappropriate conversation over dinner. So it's midnight and woops we missed it. Much too busy sitting on Linds' bed blogging and downing diet coke. So diet coke's up, here is to a new year, maybe next year I'll spend it in bed with a man.