Sweet Baby Jesus!

My weekend was insane.

It began at 4:30 a.m. on Friday, when I was dragged out of bed by my itinerary-obsessed father. Shortly thereafter, we were all on our way to Dulles, where our budget-priced Independence Air flight was scheduled to take off at quarter 'til 9 a.m. We boarded the plane, Dad clunked his head on the ceiling, 'cause the plane was really small, I ended up seated next to Frat-Matt, a chatty, preppy-looking young man who proceeded to shamelessly hit on me until I strongly hinted that I was gay by drawing his attention to the hottness of our flight attendent (whose name, incidentally, was December... and she really was quite cute).

Somewhere over Ohio, I felt a strange sensation as the airplane made an extreme banked turn (I swear we pulled a couple of Gs). Shortly thereafter, the pilot announced that they had performed a "precautionary controlled shut-down" of one of the engines because its temperature was getting too high, so we would be flying back to Dulles. When we arrived back in Washington (after some interesting maneuvering, as we only had a single operational engine on one side of the aircraft), we were greeted on the tarmac by a fire engine. Then they dumped us back in the terminal from whence we had come, where we waiting for two and a half hours before they got us another plane. But they did give us lunch vouchers, so I got a not-so-bad airport burrito out of the whole ordeal. Sadly, when we boarded the second plane, Cute December was no longer with us, and we were stuck with Bitchy Chris, who decided for some reason unknown to us that she did not like my stepmother.

We finally arrived in Indianapolis in the mid afternoon and commenced our weekend of extended family togetherness (aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents), which was actually not so bad.


(Cousins, Sister, Me, and Grandparents)

And I got to play with Grandma and Grampa's electric wheelchairs!


(Dad and me jousting!)

And after looking at old pictures of Grandma, I finally figured out who in the family I resemble, so my sneaking suspicion that I was adopted was put to rest once and for all.



My sister and I shared a really uncomfortable double-decker cot bunk-bed contraption (I got the top bunk) in my aunt's workroom. I slept on the floor the second night, because my back hurt something fierce from that first night on the canvas-and-aluminum-rack-of-doom (plus the tiniest fidget would shake the whole assembly and wake up the person with whom you were sharing it).



The trip home was far less eventful, although the flight attendent almost started a fight with the people with the screaming baby two rows behind me, and we did have a really frighteningly talkative parking-lot-shuttle driver at Dulles. I swear she was still talking to herself after the last of us exited that bus.

Now I'm back home and bored, having returned to my state of unemployed brokeness. Time to resume the job-hunt!