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God, there is
almost too much to talk about, I don't know where to begin.
Let me begin at the ending...it was a long night. I don't know
why I thought that having a drink before I got on the plane
was a good idea. No, I do know why - because it relaxes you
(even though I'm not afraid of flying) and you get even sleepier
(which is great if you CAN fall asleep sitting up, otherwise,
you are even MORE tired, and you can't fucking pass out.) So,
I had an amazing, but heavy glass of Pinot Noir and headed onto
my direct flight back to Boston. Can I say that direct flights
are the greatest things in the whole world? I can't even believe
the luxury of getting on a plane and knowing that when you get
off that plane, you will be where you need to go. It's just
amazing. I frequent the ATA counter because apparently with
ATA you're always on vacation? Or you're always too poor for
real airlines. So, I get on this plane that seems to be packed.
I sit in the aisle always. I like the idea of leaning against
the window when you want to sleep, but when I KNOW that having
to get up to pee will be difficult, then I have to go all the
time. Same reason why I panic when I'm not in the aisle at movies.
Climbing over 20 people only to climb back a minute later. And
then what if you have to go again? It's just miserable. But
I digress..
Where I'm sitting on the plane, there are people packed everywhere.
I mean, it's just all seats filled, and it's growing extremely
warm, even with those little air blowers on. I fall asleep only
to wake up in a cold sweat, panicked, uncomfortable, and not
sure if I want to shit, puke, fart, cry, or faint. My lungs
ached and since I had no idea what was wrong, I had no idea
how to go about fixing it. I made my way to the back of the
plane where the whole damn thing was so empty that the last
5 rows on either side each had only one person in them, lying
down, stretched out, sleeping soundly - those fucking bastards.
I see the flight attendant and tell him that something is really
wrong with me, but I don't know what. He feels my forehead and
tells me that I'm freezing cold, but I'm totally sweating. Aren't
cold-sweats terrifying? They really are. They are pretty rare,
and when they do happen, you feel like your whole body is falling
apart. I just realized that this story is unbelievably anti-climactic.
I laid down, felt better, and went to my seat. Fine, not a good
story, but it was scary for a little bit...for me.
I finally walk off the plane to below freezing temperatures
with the most ridiculous snow storm on the way. I just spent
a week drinking margaritas in the sun, playing racquetball,
board games, having Bloody Caesars over exciting rounds of Beano,
and here I am, fighting through the slush to get back to my
icebox apartment and my waitressing job. Buzz kill.
So, the roads are obviously horrible. I have this mute cab driver
who hates me, his life, or at least his day because there is
just tension going on here. There are three cards hanging from
the ceiling of the cab that sounds, "I love Jesus,"
which should comfort me since Jesus is cool and all, but some
of Jesus' biggest fans are serious psychopaths. So, I have to
drive thirty minutes farther than home to my car, which is parked
outside my sister's apartment. For some reason, I decide to
tell the cab driver to take the route I do NOT know to my sister's
place. There are three ways to her house, I am very familiar
with two of them, but why not go with the third because it could
be faster? Of course it could be when I've NEVER TAKEN IT BEFORE,
which also means it could be a lot longer. No big deal, it's
not like I'll be paying for my mistakes. Oh wait, it's a cab.
Yes I will. Naturally, we go the wrong way off the exit, and
the fare is climbing along with the snow on the road. I call
my sister at 7am to ask her where I'm going. When we finally
get to the car, the fare was $60. SIXTY DOLLARS. I only had
$62, so I called Kim again to make her come outside and give
me more money for the tip. She could only scrape up $7 and a
bunch of quarters. I left the guy all I had, all my sister had,
which ended up being 15%, but I felt horrible about it. I apologized
profusely and ran to my car while he stood in the snow and counted
his money. I guess it wasn't a terrible tip, but it really felt
like shit.
It's okay, because now I get to drive home in morning rush hour
through the snow that has accumulated at least two inches since
the plane landed. I get home and crawl into bed. Aahhh...
Let's now skip to the beginning of the trip. Started out pretty
shitty. I stayed at my mom's because she was headed to the airport
for her own trip in the morning, so we thought it would be better
to share a cab. The cab is arriving in fifteen minutes, and
I'm going through all my shit to make sure I have it. One thing
mysteriously missing - my wallet which has a week's worth of
tips in cash, all my cards and ID, and my Blockbuster free DVD
rental card and movie passes - the two prizes from the Challenge.
I NEVER lose my wallet, never ever. So, I panic, my mom gets
upset, and I just start crying. I wake up both my sisters to
ask them if they've seen it. I have Kim go out to the car we
were in to see if I left it in there. She says it's no where.
So, I'm upset. My mom already wants to cancel the cards even
though there is NO WAY it's stolen. We have the cab drive to
my sisters, but we first stop at the parking lot of the liquor
store Kim and I went to on the way to my mom's the night before,
and we searched the lot with a flashlight. Nightmare. My mom
said we should look in the car again because, "Sometimes
you need another set of eyes." We go to the car, and there
it is, sitting right on the floor. Oh God, the feeling of finding
it was so amazing that it was almost worth the feeling of having
lost it.
Later...we're in Palm Springs having an amazing day. Everything
is going well, we're in the sun having some drinks, living life
like it's meant to be lived, and I get pricked on the bottom
of my barefoot in the grass. You know when you step on a dry
blade of grass and it sticks into your foot, so you lift up
your foot so you don't push it in farther, and then you just
pull it out? Well, I'm lifting up my foot, but before I can
reach down to grab the blade, a disgruntled, dying bee dizzily
flies away to spend his final moments not attached to my foot.
That's when the pain began to really hit me. When is the last
time you were stung by a bee? Okay, well, if you don't remember
exactly what it's like, I'll tell you. There is a reason why
it's called a "sting." I dropped to the ground and
started sobbing, and in the back of my head rationalized over
and over if I'm really crying from pain or just being upset
that I was stung. I came up with the same results every time
- it really, really hurt. It felt like my foot was
on fire, throbbing, burning, aching. You could actually feel
the venom pumping through your skin. Who knows the best way
to deal with this in the moment when you've been out of girl
scouts or boy scouts for 15 years? The internet has all different
ideas, totally conflicting. One says to get the stinger out
as quickly as possible, the other says to first make sure you
brush out the stinger and not squeeze or the venom will be injected
further. One says to use vinegar, another baking soda, another
aloe. Whatever we did was not right because I was hit right
in the center of my foot, but the "sting" stretched
over the width of my whole foot. Bee stings on the underside
of your foot is a tricky place to heal since you're always standing
on it, walking on it, irritating it. In the middle of the night,
I'd wake up to the most incredible itching that scratching would
make a thousand times worse. I walked around with a ice. Apparently,
you're supposed to make a paste of baking soda, water, and anti-itch
cream and then smear it on your foot. It's supposed to dry up
the poison and then provide some relief. I can tell you that
it's complete bullshit. Only inches more. Time will heal it,
and not irritating it. It hurt for four or five days. It was
crippling. It really fucking hurts. I understand why people
freak out when they see bees now. I used to be annoyed by people
who freaked out over bees. "What's the worst that can happen?
It stings you, so what?" Yeah, that IS the worst that can
happen, and that IS worth getting scared.
The rest of the week outside of these isolated events - just
really great. Too short, I think that was the only real problem.
So, there's something else we need to talk about: American
Idol.
I'm livid. I was ALL for Charles. I just thought he was adorable,
his voice great, good attitude. Kimberly Caldwell is totally
the type of chick that looks like she can be great or a psycho
bitch. That Julia hairdresser chick - okay, I only have horrible
things to say about her, and I'm just going to rip into her
right now because I can. First off, the look - total shit. Go
to www.idolonfox.com and look. COME ON!!! She's not a cute girl.
Painfully skinny in some places, painfully not in others. Her
voice is the most so-so bullshit I've heard in a long time.
Come on, what's the big fucking deal? Let's do the math here.
If millions watched and voted for her, and between 100-200 thousand
come to this site, then chances are a good percentage of you
readers called in and voted for Julia over Kimberly, and I'm
not sure if I want you coming here anymore. WHAT IS WRONG WITH
YOU!!!! Kimberly is hot, talented, great stage presence, rich,
velvety voice. All the judges were positive about her. The only
fucking reason why anyone gives a shit about boring Julia is
because the producers gave her SO much air time. I thought that
was strange from the get-go. It was all about her even from
her first audition. "The sweet hairdresser from Connecticut,"
over and over. Then the poor girl who couldn't find her group
to rehearse with. Then she let her SISTER YELL at these chicks
for her. How humiliating? What weak shit has her SISTER fight
for her on TV? Did you see her sister sitting on that couch
while Julia sang? Bitch thinks she's a part of this show. Ugh.
I swear, something is going on here. They talked about her so
much that the world would form a loyalty to her. I SCREAMED
when she was picked. How could that be? I think her parents
are in the Mafia and people are being paid off. God, she sucks
so hard. Oh, also, her favorite song is Wind Beneath My Wings
and her idol is her family. <vomit> I hate Julia. I'm
beginning the anti-Julia campaign. Oh, also, she says shit like,
"I'm going to make it and they won't. You may be looking
at the next American Idol." That's just a shitty thing
to say. It's too cocky. I can't WAIT for the episode where she
gets voted off. I'm throwing a party.
I'm all for Kimberly so far.
However, I downloaded some of Kelly Clarkson's songs from the
show last year, and I got some serious chills. No one in this
competition will be anything like her. She's really one of the
most talented voices out there. Simply amazing, and she is completely
humble. Never says shit like, "I'll be the American Idol."
Ugh.
I haven't written up about Puck's Wedding yet, since I was out
of town. I'll get to it soon enough. I don't know if there is
too much to say.
I haven't read this over yet, so pardon the mistakes. I'll write
more later.
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