oh my fucking gawd.

If I thought the family from hell was bad?

That was just the appetizer.

I'm not home yet.  I'm supposed to be home.  Here's proof that I'm playing in the devil's sandbox.

and yes.  i mean the one he shits in.

I managed to ditch the herd of 'seriously would you leave me alone!', and was greeted by a 3 year old who was in need of an exorcism.

He was flailing like a fish and every time he would spasm, my chair shook like the aircraft was going down.

Oh, and the squealing for 4 hours straight?  Like a dying fucking pig.

I thought, oh well, got the fucker out on the first flight.  Now to go home.

I tried to buy the cigarettes Papi wanted me to buy for a friend at duty free, but hey, they wouldn't sell them to me.

Why?

Because my mother fucking flight was canceled.

Yes.

Canceled.

I tried to call Papi for support, but it sounded like my love had an extra dose of pain meds while I was away.

Now I had to catch a flight to San Fransisco, then a flight in the a.m. at 7.

Now, San Fran is lovely, but not when you're at a hotel at 1:30 a.m. waiting in line with the rest of the refugees who are all just as bitchy as me.

It took a good half hour just to get to the man who would give me my room.

I got an hour's sleep.

is the airport moving? or am i already on a plane? something's moving.

The best fucking part after my 1 hour sleep and no food?

I'm greeted by the kiosk at Air Canada who's setting up.

deja fucking vooooo

Now the man at the counter is telling me that United lied and that I don't have luggage.

Where's my luggage?

No fucking idea.

You think he'd help?  No.  He told me not to start his day like this.

I thanked him for his congeniality ...

can you taste the sarcasm? he certainly did as he told me to go away

... and headed to security.

They were also just setting up.  I'm pretty sure that by now I could be employed by the airlines.  I know how to put papers in machines and move around the barriers.

I decided to cry.  That makes everything so much better.  When I cry, I look old 'n ugly.  I'm sure to get preferential treatment looking like a hag.

Who was I greeted by at this line up?

Bible-fucking-thumper who told me to pray, and my luggage would appear.

really? this is candid camera right?!?

I'm pretty sure the look I gave her was enough to put the fear of Andréa in to her psyche, because she stopped and won't even look at me anymore.

are my horns showing?

Mission fucking accomplished.

i'm really sure the room is moving ...

I'll get home in enough time to go to my 11 hour shift.

Envy me?

Like salt to the fucking wound.