Adventures In My Personal Heaven, Day Numero Uno: The Arrival.

Friday, July 17th:

My plane was set to fly out of Columbus at approximately 6:16 AM. I'd spent the hours leading up to the event nervous as hell. A series of paranoid "What if?" scenarios ran through my mind as I packed the remainder of my things. What if I missed the plane? What if security thought I was a terrorist because I'd packed something questionable? What if I got to Houston and missed THAT plane? What if I got to California and annoyed the shit out of my friends? After all, we'd only met on a Danny Elfman forum. I felt like we all knew each other fairly well, but I was concerned that some of my more irritating quirks could only be seen in person, therefore causing them to rethink their opinion of me.

So with my hands sweaty and trembling with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, I set off for the airport. The hour drive involved lots of staring out the window with a lot on my mind. When we made it there, my friend dropped me off at the door and was gone. I was alone. At an airport. For the first time in my life. Panic attack? Luckily, I just kept trembling and that was it. I'd rather be seen as somebody with Parkinson's Disease for the time being than have a full-blown panic attack. Those are as much fun as being locked in a room for hours with Paris Hilton.

I'd managed to get through security without a hitch. There was one less thing to worry about. I found the gate very quickly. Another worry obliterated. I made it onto the plane. Huzzah! I had an aisle seat. NOOOOOOO! I despise aisle seats. Why? Because you always get those irritating fuckers by the window having to get up for whatever reason and disturbing my peace. I have NEVER gotten up from my seat while on an airplane. Ever. And that's who the window seats should be reserved for. I know it cannot necessarily be guaranteed that one will not get up during a flight, but in my case it can. If I have to pee, I hold it. I'm not leaving my stuff unattended, and I am not interested in trying to use a toilet in a cramped space. I'd be having a Tommy Boy moment while trying to get my pants up or something. It doesn't help that I am horribly clumsy. And of course, the person by the window DID get up. I was sleeping AND rocking out. Ugh.

We made it to Houston and I couldn't get off that plane fast enough. In my urgency to GTFO, I hit my thigh on part of the armrest and I knew it would bruise. I was right. Looks rather nasty too. See? Me = klutz.
At the Houston airport, I had a bit of a Home Alone moment. The flight into there was late, I saw a commemorative Michael Jackson magazine that I HAD to have, and the line was freaking Great Wall of China long. After I got it, I made a mad dash for the gate, fearing that I'd miss the plane and be stranded in the airport while everyone else was having fun watching Forbidden Zone the next day. Making a mad dash for a gate that seems to be miles away with like 25 lbs. of crap on your back has 'chiropractor' written all over it. But, I made it, with several minutes to spare. I sat there panting and sweaty, receiving weird looks from the surrounding people.

On this next plane, I was in the middle seat. The window guy here was also annoying, but for a different reason. Dude was hogging the armrest! If I wasn't sleeping most of the time, I'd have started something. Maybe he figured that I didn't need as much arm room because I'm kind of small and female. Well, guess again. I'm a gorilla in most senses of the word. Bah. Again, I was more than happy to GTFO. And now, we'd arrived at LAX. w00t! I'd reached my final destination (and the plane scene from that movie pops into my head every time they use that phrase and I can't suppress a shudder).

I called my friend, May. She and her mom were going to pick me up. I was informed that I'd have to take a shuttle to Lot C. Shuttle? Lot C? Oh, shit! This was not in the plans! Commence the freak out! Taking a deep breath, gathering up every ounce of courage I could find, I held my head up and followed the signs out of there. A cute black guy greeted me at the exit and asked me if I needed help, so I asked him where the shuttles were and what not. A huge misunderstanding later, he showed me where I needed to go. He asked me if I would donate to starving children in Africa or something, and once it had been confirmed that he was legit, I did. Not much, because I'm broke as shit, but still. Africa reminded me of Danny, starving children reminded me of Michael, the guy was cute, and I try not to be TOO selfish.
I made my way over to the shuttle stop. It took a million years for it to get there. When I made it to Lot C, there was a bit of a struggle to find me. Everything turned out okay in the end, though, and I finally got to see/hug May in person. It was such a crazy feeling. I'd never met any friends from a forum before, and it was surprisingly not awkward at all. I automatically felt like I'd known her for years. I knew that this was going to be a trip I'd be telling my grandchildren about if I ever decide that I don't highly dislike kids, haha.

To find out what we did later that day, check back soon. I gotta take a break, man. My fingers are falling off and I need some food.

There will be several blog posts documenting my trip. O_O