dreaming with a broken heart.

it's lonely in this hotel room and id rather be anywhere but here.

"barbecue lifts my spirits, i swear it never fails"...

i am very fortunate that i have a position that takes care of me while i'm out gallivanting across the nation, or it's capital to be precise.  it was a big day at work yesterday and we had a celebration afterwards in the form of a rooftop barbecue.

now, let me describe this place for you.  arlington.  tallest building in crystal city.  there's nothing like getting on to the elevator and skipping all the numbers to go straight for the letter "p".  your spirits get lifted as soon as you press it; you feel like a big shot.  step out of the elevator to the penthouse floor, up the half-flight of stairs and out on to the roof.  you're greeted with a warm breeze, a sky without a single cloud, and an expansive view of washington dc, with the washington monument, jefferson memorial, and capitol building in plain view.  the sun is glittering off the potomac, and you have a cold one in your hand.  stretch out on the lounge chair with my frosty cold budweiser? don't mind if i do.

we cooked an assortment of grilled meats: burgers, sausages, and dogs; corn on the grill, an art that i've never perfected.  it was absolutely delicious, a feast for twenty for ten.  the food, the company, and the atmosphere was stunning.  we laughed for hours until we fell into a deliciousness coma. the sun went down and it was just as beautiful as it was when we arrived.  it could've been the beer goggles, but i swear it was so picturesque.

right on target.

it's been a while.  life has been placed on fast forward and i don't like it.  i hadn't realized it had been an entire month since i had posted anything, and to be perfectly honest, there weren't a lot of things going on in my life that were worth sharing.  life was busy yet boring.  and then i had a near life experience.

thomas got this bug where he wanted a gun for his birthday.  i frowned and fussed and did my best to discourage, but it was his birthday money and he could do whatever he wanted with it.  so he got one.  and then came the steady stream of "let's go to the range! i want to try it out!"

i have no idea how he talked me into it, but he did.  we packed up thomas' new toy and "my gun", my grandfather's old .22 that was given to us when my grandmother passed away.  i had never even looked at the thing, let alone touch it.  i was scared to death of it.  i was fairly frightened of bb guns, for pete's sake.  how the heck was i supposed to use this thing?

it was pouring that day, but we weren't going to let that stop us.  he was on a mission and i was merely along for the ride, happy to see him so excited, but my stomach was churning with nerves.  we got to the range and i jumped every time a pistol fired.  a few deep breaths and lots of coaching later, thomas hands me granddaddy's rifle and says, "ok, now you try it."

i handled it like a one-of-a-kind glass trinket, terrified if i moved the wrong way something would happen to it.  pulling the bolt back, i slid in a single bullet, much smaller than i had imagined.  i locked it into place, settled into my horrible posture, and squeezed.  and with little more than a "whoosh" it was gone.  no kick, no loud "bang!" that i was anticipating, more like a breeze and a whistle.  "that's it?" i questioned in disbelief.  "well, yeah," he replies.  it was so much easier than i though.


about a 1/4 of a box later, i was having a ball.  it was a new challenge.  i was happy to be trying something different.  and yes, i still cringe at the sound of a handgun, but i'm not afraid anymore.  i feel like my grandfathers would be proud of me if they could see me with it.  while i'll never be able to take out more than some aluminum cans or maybe an overly ornery squirrel, it was still pretty cool.  i officially feel like a west by-god virginian.

detroit, delta, depression.

i've been doing this business travel thing for a while but never before has it happened to me.
friday night i got stranded.  officially, 100%, "no way out of this one" stranded.

i made it out of dulles on time, a first for me since starting there four weeks ago.  i got to detroit, quickly grabbing something to eat so i could make it to my gate on time, blasting through my forty-five minute layover like it was nothing.

then the first announcement came.  i got my meal voucher (which wouldn't get me a beer, fyi.  ask me how i know this) and sucked down half a bottle of water and half a bag of sour patch watermelon candies, courtesy of delta.  whatever gets you through the night.  now i'm savvy enough to know that these announcements typically come in threes.  the first two are to tell you you're delayed, and the third is to let you know you're cancelled.  we received two of these announcements and when i stepped on the plane three hours behind schedule, buckled my safety belt, and ensured my tray table was stowed for takeoff, i thought i was golden.  we waited.  and waited.  and waited.

and then the third announcement came.  "folks, we regret to inform you..."and everyone groans and ceases to listen.  we don't care.  we know what's about to come next.  we begrudgingly began to gather our belongings and wait for the jetbridge to come back so we could make our way off the airplane and into the line at the customer care center (which snaked around to the escalator to gates c2-c8, by the way).

by this time it's about 11:30pm.  i was supposed to be home two and a half hours ago, but i know there's no way in hell i'm getting home.  i waited in line and listened to the rumors:  "they're only giving people $100 in delta dollars."  "why are they doing that?"  "because there's no more hotel rooms."  "you've got to be kidding me."  wash, rinse, repeat, until i make it to the desk forty-five minutes later.  while i waited, i looked for a hotel room.  surely, there is a hotel to be found; you can't expect me to believe there are that many people who want to be in detroit for vacation.  i found a marriott not two miles away with a shuttle, sweet victory!!  i did a happy dance in the line because i knew those suckers would be sleeping on the floor, but i would be snuggled in my bed getting a good night's sleep.  i took my $200 delta dollars (being silver status has its benefits, apparently) and new boarding pass and set off for the shuttle.

fast forward twenty minutes.  i'm standing outside said marriott, tears trying not to freeze to my face in the twenty degree night, waiting for the shuttle to take me back.  stupid technology.  you can't book a room after midnight for the same day.  did you know that?  you do now, and i do too, thanks to the hard way.  there wasn't a room in a ten mile radius from the hotel and i didn't have thirty dollars for a cab fare to one further away.  i had never felt more hopeless in my life.

i got back to the airport, went through security again, and back down to where the blankets (all the pillows were gone by this point) and diet coke cans have been pillaged and did what i could to make the best of it.  i found a spot on the floor back in terminal a near the fountain.  it was right beside a small shrubbery, and the planter was the best way i could keep my back to "a wall". i shuddered as i pulled the blanket close to me, shivering, wondering how many other people had used this blanket and what diseases i was bound to contract.  then i remembered i was about to have to sleep on a floor.  in detroit.  god only knows what had been there before.

i slept in two hour stints, waking up for loud pilots, trash pickup near my head, and finally birds chirping as they nested in my shrubbery.  i saw at least a dozen people in the easy chairs around me.  it was like tent city for business travelers.

delta bought me some more candy and water and a bagel.  the personnel at the places i redeemed the vouchers looked at me like i was paying with food stamps.  i know i looked like the closest thing to a homeless person you'd see at an airport.  no luggage meant no toothbrush, no medication, no contact solution, and no clean underwear.  i didn't even feel human.

foruntately my flight went off on time, and i got back home by noon, a mere fifteen hours behind schedule.  at least there was some icing, on the cake, right?  happy saturday.

needless to say, i am not flying again for a very, very long time.