The End of the Weekend: My Honest Idiocy

This is written on Friday, as I'm sitting at my friends', Petra and Hubert's, house waiting for Hubert's birthday party to start. I arrived early because their children are my favorite humans under 6 and I wanted to say, "Good Night" to them before they went to sleep. Before I begin the story, I will include a couple of pictures I took of their baby, Helena, with my cell phone as she was trying to climb me.




Now, I'm playing on the internet trying to stay out of my hosts' hair until the party starts.

SO! The fun started last Sunday at 5:26, Portland Time. I was sitting in the airport -- past the security checkpoint -- with Monica, Scott, and Mike. We were shooting the breeze and I was cool as a cucumber. I had a whole hour until my flight left. (I had judged this from the time I would be arriving in Boise, 7:30. If I arrive at 7:30, and its a one-hour flight, then my flight should leave at 6:3o, right? Wrong. I forgot all about Pacific Time.) At 5:26, for fun, I decided to look at my plane ticket just to verify that I was, indeed, scheduled to fly out at 6:30. I was wrong. Indeed, the plane was schedule to fly out at 5:30. Grabbing my stuff and not really saying good bye, I got up and sprinted to my gate. (I think I PRd on that run!) When I got there, the plane hadn't left, but it was about to, and they didn't end up letting me on. My only alternative was to a) take Mike and Monica's flight with them an hour later, or b) hang out in Portland one more night and take the first flight out at 6 am the next day.

I tried first for option A, but quickly discovered that it was a no go, since Mike and Monica's flight was overbooked by 5 people. So, I called my cousin, Pat, who, thank goodness, lives in Portland, and asked if I could crash at his place for evening. He quickly said "Yes" but added that he wouldn't get off work until 10 pm, and that I would have to wait at the airport until then.

I saw Mike, Monica, and Scott off on their overbooked flight, and then set out to find a crossword puzzle book. The book wasn't hard to find, but a pencil was! The store at the airport wanted nearly as much for the pencil as they had wanted for the book! As a result, I searched until I found a store that would cell me a pencil for 35 cents, sat down, and waited for my cousin. After a little while, my cousin arrived in his little blue sports car with the white tire tracks painted all up and down it. Just about that time, I received a text message from Dave, announcing that Monica and Scott had just thrown up in his car.

To be continued