a required taste for the pretentious as all get out





green bay: land of freakishly nice people
February 28, 2006, 4:47 pm

So, Green Bay, Wisconsin: the weekend of Hotness.

If you don't like linky squee, well, better not read then. Let's face it: recap entries of an event attended by multiple people on the internet are really for the attendees to read (and for Fiestada, who was woefully absent from the fun), so enjoy if you were there the weekend, from my perspective.

On Friday morning, I sprang out of bed and literally punched Thumper in the face getting ready.

Me: We're going! We're going! It's here! It's here! YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

Him: Grrrrummmppp grrrrrrrrummp mumble mumble. Calm down. Grump grump grump.

See, Thumper was not nearly as excited as I was to travel; it isn't his cup of tea, and he gets downright crabby. Little did he know what was in store for him when we got to the airport...

A flurry of last-minute packing, stuffing of swag, and double-checking, and we arrived at BWI (your nation's 2nd Most Secure Airport, ladies and gents) with...oh, barely enough time to get to our gate. Why? Because silly Jessi insisted on getting there two hours earlier, and we were there an hour and a half earlier, and the line for security was roughly twelve miles and past the Starbucks on the third concourse away from our gate.

Oh, and then it turned out I forgot my license.

I. Forgot. My. License.

The only identification in my wallet was my super-secure photo credit card, my school ID, and a Bath and Body Works Art Club for Kids ClubCard that someone signed me up for as a joke. Not going to fly.

"No worries," said the nice travel lady, "you can still travel. You'll just have to go through the air machine and be searched completely."

Hmmm. The air machine. For those of you who are not familiar with the air machine, this article explains it a bit, but basically, you're looking at 30 nozzles patting you down with air at frightening speeds. Make your head blow off! I wish it was a tad tantalizing, but it was just startling. Thumper and I laughed at the woman behind us who jumped fifty feet in the air after being "patted down". Lucky for us, my mistake got us special Security Arrangements for the rest of the trip. I must look very suspicious.

In the Detroit airport, we were lucky enough to meet up with KarenD and MrKaren. Now, I have met these folks in passing the past couple of JournalCons, but had never really spent any amount of time with them exclusively; you couldn't ask for nicer, more open and engaging people to have a conversation with in an airport. They were a perfect start on our journey through what Thumper referred to as "the Home of Freakishly Nice People"; coming from Baltimore, I guess most places are really friendly, but there's just something about the Midwest...My only regret was that after our airport journey (and subsequent ride from the airport), we didn't see the Karens much for the rest of the trip. Oh well...there's next JournalCon, too.

The OCD seriously kicked in when we were to meet up with Sarah and she didn't show; my goodness, I nearly flipped. I was asking various women who were traveling alone, "Are you Sarah?" and ended up with a pile of "Nopes". I'm just glad she had missed her flight and landed safely at the airport later instead of not coming at all or being ignored by us!

At the airport in Green Bay, I was greeted by the sight of some of my most favorite people in the whole, wide world. Honestly. They had come all the way to the airport to pick us up, which was actually a welcome exercise in futility, as not all of us would have fit, and we hitched a ride with the Karens anyway. The gesture did not go unappreciated, however.

Whenever I set eyes on TranceJen, that's when everything is awesome. I realize how gay that sounds, and maybe I am. Jen is like most sister that is cleaved from me in the ways of gangsta stylin', profilin', and pimpin'. She is wise and kind and goddamn do I miss her often, which is odd, but true. Her red hair was fabulous, I must say, and once she smiled, I knew we were in for some fabulous times.

Dammit. Dinner. Note to self for later: check-in, Mare interruptus, 1, 2, 3 doctors, booyah and fluff and what happens when you miss the bus (diva moment 1) and what happens when your stomach lining is serrated (diva moment 2).

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