Jacuzzi floozy

Another priceless adventure day spent on an aer-o-plane. I’m now in my jacuzzi suite in a god-awful hotel. If you get the best room and it’s only $85 a night? Don’t squelch the voice of self-doubt. 🙂

It’s all good. I plan to dunk my haggard ass into that tub as soon as I figure out how to obtain something edible. It’s 8 p.m. in my brain but only 5 p.m. in a wee town I’ll call Dirty Vegas.

I have a minivan. Pause and think about that for a minute. I reserved a compact car for four days, at a cost of $100. The fuckers, after I REMINDED them that I can’t drive anything bigger than a cereal box, asked if I’d be OK with a minivan. I said no. So now I have a Chrysler Pacifica. Which rides beautifully but it’s $200 for the trip duration. Um, the hell? Double? I told them I’m using it till tomorrow and they’ll get it back no later than Monday morning. And of course I had to take out the most-expensive insurance because, holy shit, I’m driving a fricking BUS compared to what I own.

People are weird here. Friendly but odd. I asked the guy at the rental lot how I get to X street. And he said, “Well first, you get in the car.” I blinked. “And then, you start driving.”


Of course I got lost. And it’s impossible to get lost here. I just can’t judge the car and couldn’t make the lane switch so I ended up going halfway to California before I could find a place big enough where I could turn that rig around.

The laptop of course wouldn’t connect to the Internet when I got here. I have run more diagnostics on this stupid thing than a girl should know how to do. Finally I just yelled at it and it magically worked. Well, that’s not entirely true, but me getting good and angry usually ends up solving the problem du jour.

My flights were good, if not LONG. I finally wised up and asked for aisle seats. I’m a window-seat fanatic, but I’m also claustrophobic as all hell. So, I could breathe. Mostly, anyway. I just don’t get why people recline their fucking seats all the way back when you KNOW that oxygen is at a premium. Don’t be breathing my air.

Furthermore, pudgy people cannot have a laptop open in coach. Because the asshole in front of you will inevitably recline and snap the fucker shut on your fingers. On my second flight, when idiot landed in my lap, I actually had two free seats in my aisle and bounced over to the window. What I didn’t realize, however, was that asshole’s wife was in the window seat (they had the “I’m not gay” seat in the middle available). And the bitch? FLATULATED the whole fucking flight.

Look, I’m sure everyone lets one slip once in awhile. But every 15 minutes on the dot? Christ. I ended up sitting in the center seat in my row just to get some air of my own.

All right, time to scrub mah butt and turn off the aquarium channel and see about getting directions to the place where I plan to hang out tomorrow before I turn in that tank of a rental car. Oh, yeah, and since I couldn’t work on the plane, I suppose I need to address that lil issue, too.

Oh this town is so cheesy. Government cheesy. Seriously. I’m sure I’ll have stories to tell, although on the grounds that it might incriminate innocent parties, I won’t guarantee that I”ll ever be able to TELL them!!!

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