Two Plane Rides And No Xanax

First let me say that I missed most all of you immensely. I needed this break though. I was full up. I can't really explain to you what full up means just know that it is bad. I was full up with work, full up with men, and full up with life in general. I'm relaxed, refreshed, and ready to go back to being the bitch you all know and love.

I made a decision on Saturday morning to skip the Xanax. My thought process here being that I hadn't kept anything down in over 24 hours so maybe Xanax on an empty stomach wouldn't be so smart. I could just envision myself loaded up on Xanax and lost in the DFW airport. DFW is not where I wanted to spend my vacation.

A nice elderly couple (my grandparents) insisted on taking me to the airport. Try as I might, they were not to be dissuaded. I arrived a FULL two hours before departure time. It took me 15 minutes total to get my ticket and walk to the gate. Color me real fucking happy. I sat in the airport thinking about all the ways a plane could crash. When I finally boarded, I immediately fell asleep and slept until we hit the ground in DFW. That was beautiful! I had plenty of time to make it from one end of DFW to the other. I even had time to attempt an upgrade but all the seats were full. OK, I can still do this without First Class or Xanax.

First Class was full of people who had no business being in First Class. One of them should have given up his seat for Lola. If you have ever flown to PR you know every single fucking flight is crowded. Super crowded. It doesn't matter what time of year you fly. The plane is always full. I had a window seat next to a couple going on their honeymoon. (Like I wanted to see happy, loving people. Fucking honeymooners.) The kid behind me kept kicking my seat. The woman in front of me was speaking loudly in Spanish to her husband. I still refused to take a Xanax. I figured if I made it from {city withheld} to DFW then I could make it all the way to PR. Someone remind me next time not to try to be a grown up. The flight sucked ass. And not like good salad tossing either.

I arrived safely in PR. If you are picking someone up at the airport in PR you cannot come inside the building. You must wait outside and wave at people through the windows. As I am walking to baggage claim, I see a woman in a big ass hot pink straw hat and Jackie O. sunglasses. This is my mother. I just laugh and shake my head. My mother only wears hats or antlers or any type of headgear when picking me up from the airport. Don't ask, I just don't know why. She greets me with a huge glass of Sangster's over ice and says, "Come on darlin', it's time for the first drink of the trip." Then we went with my cousin, my brother, and my stepdad to this great little restaurant with a hot ass chef. I had the lobster tail. I wanted the chef's tail.