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everyone did know. Everyone but Allison. As I boarded my plane the
flight attendant said, "I hope Chris doesn't fuck everything up."
Then the lay-over
got screwed and there was bad weather in Texas and suddenly my flight
was going to be an hour late. I had no way of contacting anyone
to tell them that because Anna Beth was in the air and Chris still
hasn't gotten with the millennium and purchased a cell phone. I
was stuck in Phoenix. I called my parents. My dad said, "Atlanta?
Why are you going to Atlanta?"
His reply: "Well… I'm sure your friends are really nice and all
but… Atlanta's full of assholes. No, really. Not a nice person in
there. They're rude and mean and they'll slice you up in a second.
I had to go there on business and they are really just the scum
of the earth. Oh, horrible. Nobody at my job ever wanted to travel
to Atlanta because it's full of assholes. Just horrible people.
But have fun."
I'm sure my
father will be getting the key to the city any day now.
The last thing
I wrote in my journal before my plane departed for Atlanta was,
"I'm sure AB and Allison are totally drunk by now and Chris has
spilled everything and they're coming up with a story to make me
think the surprise still worked. Shut up, bitches! I'm on my way!
Just keep quiet for another three hours!"
airport is enormous. We were the last plane to land in the state
of Georgia. They also decided to make us land at the farthest point
in the airport. I got on a train and watched the minutes tick away.
I felt horrible that it was after one in the morning at this point,
knowing that Chris and Allison had work in a few hours, knowing
that by now Allison knows everything and they probably hate me for
making them go through so much trouble for me.
Then the train
stopped. The loudspeaker told us that the train wasn't going any
further and we all had to get off. The doors opened and a sign stood
in front of us: "STAY ON THE TRAIN FOR BAGGAGE CLAIM." The train
told us to go. The sign told us to stay. We all stood still for
a couple of minutes. Red lights flashed above our heads. It was
a trap! A trick! I couldn't find a rip in the space/time continuum,
so we decided to start walking towards baggage claim.
the kind of person that doesn't like to be totally alone in any
situation, I made friends with the older businessman standing next
to me. I quickly told him the situation, and he ushered me onto
an elevator. Once alone in an elevator with him I thought, "This
is where he kills me." He said, "That way if they're waiting at
the escalators, they won't see you." He was only trying to help,
and I had him pegged as a murderer. I'm horrible.
I got off the
elevator and had the man take me to the Atrium, which was where
we were supposed to meet. The atrium was filled with piles of people
asleep, waiting for my plane to show up. I wandered from pile to
pile, quietly trying to find my group of friends. Nothing. Nobody
I knew. The businessman asked if I was going to be okay if my friends
weren't there anymore. I asked if there was a bar in the airport.
He said all of them would be closed. He pointed to a place where
some people wait. He said if the train had gone all the way, I would
have gotten off over there.
I was wearing
my hat pulled low over my head. In Los Angeles this means "Don't
Bother The Celebrity." In Atlanta this means, "That Girl Is Obviously
Going To Blow Up the Plane." I got frisked and patted down in airport
security, and had to take my shoes off and run them through the
X-ray machine. My new thing is to pretend that I am a spy as they
do this, and realize that I've been foiled yet again by American
Justice. Otherwise I get all creeped out wondering if someone has
planted something on me when I was ordering an Egg McMuffin.
In any event,
the hat worked, and I wheeled my suitcase away from the crowd, lasering
in on Anna Beth waiting near the train exit. She saw me at the same
time and we did this total Spy Nod that was so cool but nobody saw
but us. We both walked away from where Chris and Allison were. I
was afraid to lift my head. AB told me that Al was still in total
I walked over
to the customer service area where they had been camped out. Chris
had his hands all over Al's face and she was trying to wiggle out
of his grasp. She was yanking on his hands shouting, "What is it?
Just let me see! God!"
let her go and she looked up at me. "So, what are we all waiting
for?" I asked.
I don't think
she knew who I was for about ten seconds. She blinked, and her head
cocked just a bit and she got to her knees and whispered, "What
are you doing here?" She only needs to be on her knees to get a
full hug from short me, so we hugged as AB and Chris high-fived
behind us. She kept staring at me as we walked back to the car,
still trying to put together all of the deceivery and lyishousness
that had gone on around her.
The heist was
discussed for the next two hours. I cannot believe Chris almost
blew it with that Diet Coke thing.
Soon I realized
that Allison had been looking forward to Master V's visit. It had
something to do with a guitar and playing songs and all four of
them celebrating the bluegrass inside of them. I tried plucking
at Allison's guitar and singing a song about being Vince, but I
could tell it wasn't the same. Master V said it was like waiting
on Michael Jordan and getting Spud Webb walking off the plane instead.
He's just jealous that I'm a bustier Master V than he is.
But can Vince
make Allison almost pee in a Neiman Marcus? Didn't think so. I'm
time you get to go, Master V. But when they expect me walking off
that plane and they get you instead? I don't think you can handle
new recap of Smallville is up. The woman who wrote this
last episode was one of the two writers from the show who had sent
an e-mail to say she liked the recaps. Well, I didn't notice it
was her episode until I was well into recapping it, but that's OK
because it was actually the best one I've seen since the premiere.
e-mailed her to tell her the recap of her episode was up, and she
told me really nice things about how the writers on the show read
the recaps and how there was some talk about them keeping a copy
of a recap on the writer's table and of saying they'd do very naughty
things to me to earn a good grade on MightyBigTV. It was humbling
and really sweet to hear.
packed: Good God, a whole bunch
sorted: About 25 billion
painted back to original color: Two
left until big move: Five
item I've packed so far: An empty shoe box into a bigger cardboard
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