Didn't need to stop for gas...

help me, I'm in a sardine can wirh wings

So here I am on an airplane, hurtling toward South Carolina, sitting between my mother and sister. The vodka is $7 per miniscule little bottle. I think I may need ten or so, it’ll be the best $70 I ever spent! Seriously, I sitting here a little bored, which is stupid considering I have my textbook to read, my kindle e-reader with about 800 books loaded on, my laptop, a puzzle book I bought in the airport and my ipod. I could talk to the weirdos sitting on either side of me. Instead, I’m sitting here not sure what I want to do. Go figure.


You may be wondering, where the hell is she going? I’m going to visit my sister in South Carolina for her fortieth birthday. Five days without work, kids, housework, school, PAC or Pathfinders. What the heck am I going to do with all of my time? Visit family you say, what a novel idea. Is it pathetic to miss your work? Yep, I thought so.

Oddly, I also miss my children. I may talk the talk about how exciting it was to be leaving the kids with the husband for a few days of rest and relaxation. Even I bought into the lie. Last night I hugged and kissed the kids and waved goodbye. I wasn’t even two minutes away when I got all weepy at the thought of leaving them. I got over it, but still!

Now sitting on the airplane like a sardine, I’m a bit punchy, hyper and tired at the same time, which is difficult to accomplish while squished between my sister and mother. It is their fault though; they wouldn’t stop giggling last night in the motel room! When you’re tired it’s amazing what you’ll find funny. We stayed in a motel near the airport on a park and fly deal which was very cheap. The room was clean but not too fancy. For some reason we all thought the paper thin toilet paper with woodchips in it was hilarious. The fact that you needed half of a roll to wipe would have sent Scott the toilet paper Nazi into a tizzy.

Scott has a theory about toilet paper. You should only ever have to use four squares. He tried to teach that theory to our eight year old son, which went over really well. He gave up on trying to convince me to buy into his theory. I’m a one roll kinda girl, it’s just the way I roll (pun totally intended).

Being in such a small space is never a good thing, especially when you have a bad reputation regarding flatulence. Let’s just say day two of Jack in the box fast food is bubbling, bubbling, toiling, troubling. The line up to the bathroom is half down the very tiny aisle, which is also littered with Flight attendants and drink carts. Sadly my family will have to suffer the consequences. (The guy in front of me who just put his chair back to have a little nap is going to regret it.)

I’m logging off because first of all I farted and am worried I may melt the plastic in my laptop and second, it’s very hard to type with your arms pressed up against your sides and my tray crammed into my belly courtesy of the guy napping in front of me. No worries, I will have my revenge, I’m classy like that.