Traversing the Country has NEVER Been so FUN!

Hello JJ8ers,

Let me tell you a little story.

Some of you may know that I took a few days out of my NM trip home to visit my grandmother in San Francisco. She was in the hospital for a while after Thanksgiving, so my dad and I wanted to make sure that she was being taken care of adequately by her new live-in nurse, and that she wasn't going to drive this poor creature to madness. You see, the great tradition of insanity has been handed down, generation to generation, and a sharp tongue never dies, even when it is lodged in a nearly 90yr old 80lb 5 foot sized body.

Anyway, Eleanor was feisty and fine, and our worries were eased by the strong, brave, and bright Tonkinese woman taking care of her.

However, a ginormous (yes it is now in the dictionary) storm decided that no good deed shall go unpunished.

As stated in The New York Times, anyone traveling in this storm is "foolhardy."
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/05/us/05calif.html?hp

My dad and I woke up to a dark apartment this morning, all the electricity was out. Somehow, during the night, we had been submerged in water, had we floated down the hill into the bay? What was that terrible shrieking noise? Oh, just your typical San Francisco hurricane. Nothing to see here, certainly not downed fences, guardrails, trees, tractor trailers....

Our little plane was only delayed 2hrs. We only sat on the runway for an hour. Every plane taking off was invisible, immersed in a cloud of jet blown rain water. Then, our tiny commuter jet braved the winds, fun! Like being tied to a jackhammer, twenty thousand feet in the sky!

And so, I missed my flight to New York. I thought I would never make it to my own going away party. All my hopes hinged on begging the mercy of the Continental airlines ticket monkeys. However, the ticket counter is closed from the hours of 4pm to 8pm. After waiting a few hours, one of the monkeys appeared, a particularly hideous one with a nearly human mullet, chunks of blonde tufts on top of her head, and long straight straggly strands down the back of her neck. I thought, "Cassie, you should never judge a monkey by its mullet." So I approached her slowly with a big, kind, friendly smile on my face. She listened to my tale of woe, her little eyes almost closing, and then said that I would need to pay $247 additional to get on the plane. What a lot of bananas!

So, I did what any proud American should do, I called customer service and cried. I still ended up paying $100, but I had the thrill of ignoring the monkey as she scratched her armpits and licked her computer screen, and screeched, "did they tell you anything different?" I simply handed her my bag (my dad making sure that she put the tag on and didn't throw it into the jungle heap) and walked away.

So, now I am here in the Albuquerque Sunport (yes, not Airport). The bar closed at 9pm. It feels like 3am. I am one margarita and two martinis to the wind. And my flight doesn't leave for another hour. Just thought I would share this with you all. I get into Newark at 5am. Joy!

See you all in a few hours at Pacific Standard!

Love
Cass

P.S. A little multi-media presentation follows, just for you!


Kokopelli, the humpbacked flute player:

Frank Frost, family photographer:

the tumbleweeds are moving too quickly for you to see them:

and my waterbottle is eating my face.