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Thursday, December 2, 2010

A THANKSGIVING TALE

I hope everyone has had a lovely Thanksgiving weekend. We woke up to snow which is always exciting; however, as per usual, by eveningtime or so it was replaced with a healthy dose of rain and nasty stormy weather. Awesome. No matter though. The weather did not stop me from enjoying my weekend alone.

A weekend alone. Yes. Without child or husband and screw the fact that it was Thanksgiving. I didn't care... I was just happy to have some quiet time. Just me and the fat stinky cat.
The day started out with an adventure up north to Canada... Dr. Yeah's flight back home departed from Vancouver so yes, we left the states to go to Canada to take a flight to go back to the states. Talk about ass backward. No matter. It's closer and cheaper so there.

Now, I am not afraid of driving in the snow, not at all. I am, however, I do have a tiny issue with driving in the snow on the freeway. I have these terrible images of all the semi trucks simultaneously jack-kniving around me leaving me stuck and helpless and possibly maimed, even just a bit. Curse you overactive imagination.

Luckily I am fairly familiar with the streets of Canada all thanks to a long term boyfriend who, many years ago in one of my past lives, toted me up there almost every weekend for car club meetings and car shows. That's another story completely.
Point being, my street cred in Canada is awesome acceptable and came in handy when I was navigating the roads by myself after dropping off the Dr. Yeah. I will say though that no amount of street cred can prepare you for Canadian drivers.
And speaking of that, dear neighbors of the North, I feel it incumbent upon me to say this: 'what the hell??' followed by, 'so it is true?... you know... the rumour that you don't have to actually take driving lessons to get a license.'

Also? Allow me to let you in on a little secret: The two freeway lanes are indeed different. There is a fast lane and a slow lane. Here's a little tip to go along with that little secret: If you are going to drive slow, drive in the damn right lane. If someone is behind you in the fast lane, (which is the left lane) move over... please, for the love of guard rails and hands free phone devices ... move the eff over!!

Now, I realize that you probably don't know that because you didn't go to school to learn how to drive so you have a smidge of grace. But now that you know that? Please remember and put it to use... gl.
Editor's note: It is totally my responsibility to say this because I have many Canadian friends who wholeheartedly agree with me that Canadians are terible drivers. Oh, and I heart Canada! :)
So anyway, I get home... finally... no thanks to the snow and lack of Canadian driver's ed, and then I finally commence my weekend of champagne drinking, shopping online, chick flicks and all kinds of 'doing nothing when I should be doing something'.

With a glass of champage in hand (and one down already), two amazing online sales under my belt and a little old school Patrick Dempsey playing on the flat screen, all was going according to plan until my phone dings it's telltale text alert.

I didn't want to disturb fatty the catty but I had to dislodge my phone from under his massive fat roll. He wasn't happy but I did it anyway. Patrick Dempsey was also not happy about being put on pause in order for me to concentrate on the message. My champagne was also not happy because I had to set it down to deal with the phone.
Ok, so imagine my surprise when I saw it was none other than Dr. Yeah. Keep in mind, I've been home for about an hour and it took me about an hour and a half to drive home, so he has been at the airport for 2 1/2 hours and, I presumed, long gone on his jet plane and almost to Cali.

Here's what he said:
Him: 'we've been on the plane, waiting to be de-iced for two hours'
Me: 'oh no! I'm sorry honey!'
Him: 'we r next, then taking off. Hope I make my connecting flight'
Me: 'call me when you land in SF'
So it's all good, yes. He's being de-iced, the plane will take off. All is ok aside from this minor hiccup.

30 minutes later my phone dings again...
Him: 'we waited so long to be de-iced that we ran out of fuel. Heading back to the terminal to de-board so the plane can re-fuel'
Me: 'what the h-e- double hockey sticks???' and I'm thinking does that even happen? Run out of gas?? Thank goodness you weren't in the air and if you had taken off on time would you have had enough fuel? Two hours of idle kills the fuel? Who pays for all that fuel? Did he at least get a cocktail or has he been coctail-less this whole time? Now that's a tragedy.
Him: 'I'll keep you posted'
30 minutes later my phone actually rings... It's Honey.

Him: 'hey, yeah... I missed my connecting flight in SF and there isn't another one until tomorrow afternoon. I'm just going to cancel my flight. They can refund me. Aaaaaannnnnd now you have to come get me.'
Me: (thinking) Well shuckeydarn*
'Oh, hmmmm.... well..... I've had a glass of champagne so I'm not driving. Let me see what I can do'
*clearly my verbiage was much more explicit than that. Duh.

So now I'm thinking: 'I sure as hell am not driving right now. Hello, champagne. Oh, and as much as I love Dr. Yeah, my plans are foiled!!! No more alone weekend? Damn.


Because Special Agent Oso is the most mutarded cartoon ever I heart the way Special Agent Oso breaks things down to be so simple, that's what I did!

Step 1: Put down the damn champagne

Step 2: call cabby friend and see if he is available on snowy Thanksgiving to drive to Canada and pick up Honey.
Step 3: Explore other alternatives because cabby friend is indeed not available.
Step 4: Call every cab company from here to Vancouver and, of course, not have any luck.
Step 5: Resort to limousine service then, after three phone calls, accept that they will not be answering.

Four hours later...

Step 6: Sober, as sober as someone who is really really sober. Drive to Canada and pick up darling husband.
And at this point, I had been back and forth to Canada so much I was 93% sure the border men were suspicious that I was smuggling fake Louis Vuitton back and forth in an attempt to make some quick cash to pay for all those fantastic online sales.

And then we were home... plans for my amazing weekend foiled. But we had fun anyway and it makes for a good story, yes?

xoxo, Mae

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