Clareified

(cause blogging from the Treo is hard and not suited for lengthy posting.)
“Sorry, upgrade to first class is not available at these rates.”
She did tell us that she get us a window and an aisle seat and block anyone from being able to sit in the middle. So, we took what we could get and went off to find dinner. I had just gotten my new camera up and functioning, so I was taking pictures of everything.
Oooh, airport chairs. Wow, a Burger King sign! Look a wall.
Click, click, click.
Not to be outdone, Karol started taking pictures with her camera too.
“Why are we behaving like tourists…in the airport?” Karol finally asked after the tenth picture.
I laughed. “It’s fun!”
Click!
We ate and took pictures of my phone with my camera and pictures of my camera with my phone and pictures of my phone taking pictures of my camera with my camera taking pictures of my phone.
Good times. Good times.
Of course, when I heard the phrase “last call for flight blah blah blah to Vegas” we were snapped back to reality.
Oh crap! I can’t believe we almost missed our flight over this!
We took our seats and I made my standard check for any damage to the wing.
“Uh…Karol…remember when the lady said we were getting a window and an aisle seat? I see the aisle…umm…but what is this beige plastic opaque material where the window is ‘posed to be?”
She offered to switch with me, but I hesitated.
“You’re not going to be getting up every five seconds to go to the bathroom are you?”
No she assures me and I make the switch.
We taxi away from the gate.
Ok. Fingers in ears, eyes shut and body in crash landing position.
I wait. And wait. And wait.
I sit up.
Take one finger outta my ear.
Then the other.
Now the eyes.
It’s been thirty minutes and we are still on land.
CRAP!
Karol and I play some crazy Russian game that Phil made up. And as usual Karol got the Done. And I got the Quit. (I know that doesn’t make any sense, but we’re working on a klabbr/pai-gow blog which will clarify everything.)
Two hours later, we were finally in the air.
Stupid Delta.
I cannot believe I was flying this dang airline again. Especially since I hate everything about it except the cookies and thanks to my college roommate Elena, I now have a supply of the cookies all for myself in my kitchen back home.
We played cards, watched Little Miss Sunshine and dreamed of hitting it big in Vegas.
Somehow, Karol convinced me to pack a crapload of clothes and check my luggage for a five day trip!
We stand there for a good twenty minutes and watch the cluster of bags dribble down to a handful. Karol finally grabs her bag. I still don’t see mine.
“Ugh…I hate this…I bet they lost it!”
I watch a small green suitcase spin by and think that it looks a lot like a bag I have at home.
When it passes me a second time, I ask Karol if she remembers whether my bag was black?
“I think it was black.”
“Yeah, me too…but…”
Finally, when the green bag comes by again, I decide to look inside.
Sure enough: My stuff! Hurrah!
As we waited for the bags to come around the conveyor belt, I made a mental note never to do this again unless I am flying internationally.
I just can’t stand the pressure of remembering what my bags look like and the uncertainty of whether it makes it there in time.
For some reason, we had bought this whole Vegas package that included hotel and flight. I decided that we should also buy the airport shuttle service for ten bucks. However, as we stood on the shuttle line and waited in the night air with thirty other disheveled travelers.
“Why are we reduced to traveling with the riff raff,” Karol asks.
“Taxi lines are really long here.”
We continued to wait and Karol started to do her famous Russian dad accent.
“Why take bus and not taxi?” her “dad” asks.
“Cabs are like $20,” Karol answers.
“But are you not betting three four hundred dollars? What is twenty dollars?” Russian dad points out.
I laugh and laugh.
Karol goes up to the dispatcher to rabble rouse about the missing bus. He tells her it’ll be eight minutes more.
She says nuts to that and goes to see if the cab line is shorter.
No sooner than she leaves, does the bus arrive and starts to board. I call her on my cell. She doesn’t answer. I start to drag her crap and my own crap forward in the line and shoot dirty looks to the Asian chick trying to skip me.
And since Karol is the luckiest person in the world and everything always works out for her, she came bouncing up to the bus just as I reached the front of the line.
It was after midnight when we reached the hotel. F-train called to say that he and a bunch of the other poker bloggers at the conference were at the Imperial Palace.
Karol and I got to our hotel and were greeted by a line through the door.
“Arggh…I can’t handle this line. I am exhausted and hungry! I can do one, maybe two of those – exhausted and this line or hungry and this line or exhausted and hungry, but I cannot do all three!” I whine.
“Oh, I think you can.”
“No!”
“What is that smell,” Karol asked for the first of many times during our stay. It was like a strong perfume fragrance that permeated every corner of the hotel lobby and common areas.
“Yeah! What is that. Ok, I can handle maybe exhaustion, hunger and this line, but not that smell too!”
“Shut up,” said Karol for the fourteenth of many times during our stay.
We dropped off our bags and headed over to the IP.
I immediately saw some of my favoritest boys: Carter, StB, Drizz, Zeem and Ignatius!
I was excited to introduce Karol to Iggy because I knew they would like each other.
And sure enough, despite their hours long argument about politics, I think they got along famously.
And by the trip’s end, he had pinned us both!
(Get your minds out of the gutter!)
Karol’s scathing post to Punky Brewster was fresh on everyone minds, so she got a lot of “wow, you seem so nice. How did a post like that come outta you?” To which F-train aptly responded: “She’s Russian. And from Brooklyn.”
F-train said he was impressed that we’d come out drinking before going to play poker.
“Speaker figured you guys would be driving up to Reno by now!”
I thought: Wow! Speaker mentioned us! He knows who we are! Wow! Yay.
I said: “Really? That’s interesting.”
We also ran into SoxLover and he was very pleasant.
“I miss playing with Alceste and Mary and the rest of you guys,” he said.
“Aww…that’s sweet Sox. I’ll tell them.”
(Consider yourselves told.)
I also met Dr. Chako for the first time. He was a fantastic guy, who shared our penchant for running off to play poker rather than hanging out and being social.
“Alright, we’ll be a support group. If you see us about to run off to play, you’ve got to stop us. We’ll do the same for you!”
Well, I don’t know where the support broke down, but within the hour, I was at a poker table.
And an hour after that Karol was sitting beside me mumbling something about being forced to play even though she didn’t want to.
HAHAHAHHHAAHAHAHAHAHAAH
I also met GCox for the first time and we clicked immediately, when I said something like “ha! I call” to some random comment and he immediately responded “Oh, you MUST be Dawn Summers! I know you call.”
He said Jordan was one of his favorite people, even though they have never met.
“OMG! I love the Jordan! He is an awesome guy and we love playing with him.”
I started to feel a bit dizzy and nauseated at the table and figured it was all the cross country travel without food.
I was ready to go home.
“No. We can’t go…come on let’s just go to the bar.”
And the thing about poker bloggers is that if you’re near the bar —and I mean within blocks of a bar — someone is buying a round and you will be doing shots.
Did does.
I did shots with the guys, helped Drizz work off his birthday bonus playing video poker and when the money was all gone, tried to get F-train to give me money to keep playing.
I believe sasat.com.net.org was his response.
Umm…and that is where things get fuzzy and the pictures stop and I wake up the next morning…er..afternoon.

This entry was posted by Dawn Summers on Tuesday, December 12th, 2006 at 9:16 pm and is filed under Personal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.