The Other News

As it's the first summer in our new place, we're learning lots of fun things like: high ceilings mean the AC never turns off, we have lots of fun summer blooms in the yard, the creek water is much much warmer than the harbor and beach water, and that the sun really blasts into that one room on the side, so it's much too hot in there. We've met more of our neighbors, babied our new front yard sod, and been baking up cobblers and berry pies. 

Baby steps on the yard - but still an improvement.

Two posts each month is hard because I only feel compelled to give a recap of things since the last post. Perhaps it's an attempt to account for all the time spent. As though old lady Lue will read through this whole blog one day and wonder what exactly she was doing for those two weeks in July of that year. 

The reality is that I'm in a strange and somewhat dejecting limbo state of having no real work to do but really wanting some. I'm scheming my next big thing you see, and I know what it does, but I don't know what it is exactly and moreover, I don't know how to get it up and running in a way that earns me even a meager living. And it's not about the money really. I'd do it for free if I didn't also want to someday buy new pants that fit properly. It's that I don't want Brett to have to work for the both of us. It's not like he looks forward to getting up and clocking in everyday. Sometimes I dream I'll make it big just so he can spend his days doing things he wants to do. 

But back to the dejecting bit. Who knew I wouldn't enjoy a life of leisurely lounging? I sure thought I would. It's really all I've ever dreamt of. Turns out it's dreadfully dull, especially you're just going to be sitting by yourself all day, and for some reason you have a headache for most of it. (Is it the heat?) When I imagined being free and jobless, I wasn't worried about appearing unproductive, feeling unaccomplished, or carrying around the icky feeling you get when you lay down for too long. 

I think I might actually have some... some... dare I say drive, after all.

Pets in Pairs

Big Mama has been out of the country with her sisters for the last three weeks, which has felt like an eternity. Because she's not so tech savvy, we couldn't really talk to her and it's the first time in my life I've ever felt her absence. It occurred to me that this is what it will feel like when she's gone, when I can't just call my best friend. And instead of that being very very sad, which it could be if I let myself go there, instead it just felt very very bizarre, unfamiliar, and like the world was just a little bit less sparkly than before. Luckily I got to pick her up from the airport on Wednesday and talk 3 weeks worth of thoughts at her on the drive home. 

Last weekend Ellen incubated and spread some sort of mutant stomach trouble that managed to infect the majority of her family members, myself included. It can only be described as a unique and terrible experience. A few weeks ago Grace tore her ACL attempting to escape from the yard (ungrateful) and she's been in a bad mood since. We have the option of a $3500 surgery and 8 weeks rehab or we can just let that lazy 10 year old dog hang out in the AC on painkillers like she likes to. We think we've made the right decision but she is understandably restless without her long evening walks. When the tide is right, we let her swim and she had taken to it with a previously withheld enthusiasm. 

Ferguson consistently sleeps in piles of trash. 

So to recap we've done lots of good yard work and are about to tackle our master bath. I finally figured out what I want that space to feel like, so I'm itching to get started. We've been enjoying the evening high tides with lots of swimming, kayaking, and pup wrangling. And using our day times to appease The Man and stew over the meaning of existence.

The Bad News

We landed in Newark at noon. Brett's flight to Charleston had been cancelled for “mechanical issues” but even though he’d been rebooked on a flight at 9:00pm, he suspiciously needed to have his ticket reprinted at customer service. My flight wasn’t until 4:00 so we figured we had time to print his ticket and have lunch before we parted ways. We stood in what seemed to be an exceedingly long customer service line and just a few minutes in, we noticed that it wasn’t moving. I wandered across the hall and bought us some hummus to munch on. We’d moved 20 feet after an hour. Something told me to go check the departures board, and that’s when I saw that my flight had also been cancelled, for “expected air congestion.” I’ll fast forward through the next two hours in the customer service line, and tell you that the surly United Airlines reps couldn’t get either of us out of the airport until midnight on Monday. 

I called my school and told them the news. “Monday is really the most important day,” they told me. “You are welcome to come of course… but you’ll be behind.” As my headache surged and the snot flowed freely, I decided to bag it. Brett and I spent another two hours passing the phone back and forth with customer service who wanted $1500 to fly me home. “That unacceptable!” I said into the receiver, just as I have seen Dad do when bickering with upper management. The representative and I had a silence stand-off. I got her down to $200 and then asked for a hotel voucher. “We don’t give those out for weather related cancellations.” 
"But is says mechnic... " I rolled my eyes and hung up. 

I did not photo-document our airport sentence. Instead, here's what we were dreaming of.

We checked into a nearby hotel and I really tumbled to the depths of what we would later diagnose as a sinus infection. I really felt badly. I only remember Brett procuring some potato soup and then I fell asleep without ever actually preparing for bed. We woke up the next morning feeling more optimistic. We spent the day in NYC where we went to the Color Museum for me and the Mathematics Museum for Brett. It was a grey rainy day but we made the best of it. We came back to our hotel in the evening because I had an interview assignment for a job I had applied for and that was the only place we figured we could get internet and still be close to the airport - we’d need to head that way soon. We sat in the hotel lobby for an hour while I did an excellent job on the work simulation, and then we ventured back through airport security. The place was packed. There was a customer service line at least 3 hour long before you even got to security. 80% of the flights on the boards were cancelled or delayed. People were everywhere. since we had some time to kill, we decided to have a real dinner, so we sat at a burger place where Brett talked all about a book he’d been reading on World War II. Meanwhile our flight was delayed to 10:00, then 11:00. It was only about 8:15.

It was hard to find a place to sit. People were sacked out all over the airport floor. Babies were crying, grown men threw tantrums, and equally inconvenienced flight crew ducked for cover. Brett and I read and chatted with the idle and the outraged. Even though everyone’s flights were delayed, the projected departure times would come and go, and we’d never hear anything new. Our flight was pushed 12:30. A huge storm had rolled in. The few flights that had planned to leave suddenly cancelled. People had meltdowns. Some gave up and went home. Other rented cars. But Brett and I sat. We were looking up space on the Amtrak but it was booked solid until Wednesday. Then we met a guy name Scott who helped entertain us for a while. Our new departure time was 1:30am. Scott was headed to Cleveland, but he lives in Newark so he figured he’d give it until midnight and then he’d go home. Brett and Scott chatted for a long time while I mulled over the possibly reality of our flight being cancelled again and us needing a place to stay. Now our flight was at 2:00am. How come all the other flights are cancelling for weather but our foolish captain thinks it's going to be fine to fly through? Suddenly I didn’t want our flight to take off. I began to get anxious. I bought another pack of six tissues for $3.00.

I’ll fast forward. Scott finally gave up about 1:30am and went home. Sometime after 2am, our fearless captain got us up in the air but with expected “big turbulence.” I was so tired, scared, and sickly that I had the flight attendant move a few people around so that Brett could sit with me. I wouldn’t normally do that but I was hanging on by a thread. When everyone around accommodated me I became so embarrassed and also relived that I cried. (Very discreetly, obviously.) The flight didn't become a white knuckle ride until last 20 minutes, so that felt like a win.

Brett and I finally got home at 5:00 on Tuesday morning. 

Most of all things, were delighted about how well we handled it all. Brett was a champion of positivity while I was zen master. We never got angry, and certainly not with each other, and instead made each other laugh and kept up efforts for entertainment. We made a list of people who’d be having a real meltdown and then pat ourselves the back for doing better than them. I only maintained a good attitude because Brett was with me. If I had been alone, I'd have been outraged and distraught.

On that note, a few days later I found out I did not get the job I was so certain I had in the bag. Moreover, I don't get credit for my school thing since I never showed up, so now I have to take an entire extra semester. There's the distraught outrage I was looking for. 

Should I send United the bill?