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Tuesday, January 4 2005

Going back to Cali…

colorado_to_santafe_days0203 001.jpg
…for like 30 seconds. And then it’s off to Vegas. Tomorrow. I hear it’s a 3 1/2 hour drive, which isn’t so bad. The drive from Denver to Santa Fe was over 5 hours. I feel like I’m in my own version of Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Only, there are no trains involved. Shuttles to the airport replace trains in my story. And there’s no John Candy, or anyone who resembles him. I guess it’s a good thing that there’s no John Candy, cause if he were here, it would be creepy, since he’s been dead for a lot of years. I don’t want to see a dead John Candy, I don’t think I’d ever sleep again.

Fast forward three hours from when I last wrote. I am now sitting at Sunport, the Albuquerque, NM airport and am having a rather strange experience at Frontier Airlines. My plane, the one that’s supposed to take me on my out of the way trip to blizzardy Denver, CO, isn’t here (it’s supposed to leave in 4 minutes) and what’s even more bizarre is that there is no airport personnel at the gate to explain the delay or what the fuck is going on. I don’t understand. Nobody at the gate. No plane outside. It’s now 3 minutes til departure time, and while I get that I’m not taking off on time, I don’t understand what time I am taking off. I noticed some other flights to Denver have been cancelled today. I need to be in Los Angeles by 10AM tomorrow, to catch my ride to Vegas. Why can’t the weather be more predictable? Why can’t Frontier actually have personnel to help out its customers? Why is the world such a crooked place?

Am I in the Twilight Zone? Is this place for real? Yes. They finally found someone who can talk to us about why the fuck there is no plane here. I didn’t want to leave Santa Fe, because the last four days have been surreal. But now that I’m sitting in this airport, I can’t wait to get the hell out of New Mexico. I just want to get on with this trip. And I even checked a bag, which now seems like it could be a problem.

My plane is delayed an hour. That’s the latest word from Frontier. At least I have a two hour layover in Denver *I just found out my next flight has been delayed by over an hour as well. I can still make that other flight. I hate winter flying. Too unpredictable.

Of course, I’ll still fly in the winter. I’ve been invited back to New Mexico for New Years 2006, and I don’t see how I’m going to be able to pass up the opportunity. After all, there should be a dome for some of us to sleep in, which will make the experience more campy, and I can’t imagine that every one of the 14 people in attendance wouldn’t make it back next year. If they’re all going to be there, I most definitely have to. But that’s like 361 days from now, so I won’t plan too hard.

The never ending blog. That’s what todays entry might start to feel like. I’m taking my nervousness and frustration out on the keyboard. I can’t stop typing. Everything is fuzzy, which is a product of this weekend, and all gears need to switch into high. Squeak. Squeak. It’s not a pretty scene, and I’m not a pretty picture. Then again, everything is relative.

Speaking of nothing. I have a new porn name since I’m on my way to the porn convention. It’s the best name ever, (thanks Glenn), now all I need is to get to Vegas. Get ready for Jamye Plainview. It’s got so many meanings. Plainview is the town I grew up in. Plainview also explains a subtle glance, a small glimpse into something deeper. Okay, I might be searching in my explanation, but still you get it.

And if you don’t. Don’t bother trying. It’s not that hard, and you’re not that smart. Yes, that might have sounded mean, but don’t blame me, blame Frontier Airlines. Today, it’s all their fault.
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UPDATE:
So, now it’s 4PM New Mexico time and guess where I am? That’s right, New Mexico! Surprised?! Not me. I could have spent the day in Santa Fe, instead of on the cold, tile floor of the Sunport Airport. It’s sunny here in Albuquerque, at least that’s what I see from the window of the hell-port, as I’m now calling it, but apparently it’s a bitch in Denver. The plane that we are waiting on, which still hasn’t been given an ETA, has apparently been sitting on the runway in Denver for the last two hours. While I wouldn’t normally think much of that, it most likely means that I too will be sitting on the runway for hours in Denver, and, ironically, may not get out of Denver tonight. My nastiness is showing. I’m trying not to talk to anyone because I don’t want to be labelled “that bitch” on my eventual flight.

But that bitch is getting bitchier by the minute. I’m soon to be frothing at the mouth. Kind of like Old Yeller, only without the rabies.

Tell Me You Love Me

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