Part I: the Amazing Race to the Superbowl of Life

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This week has been full of amazing. Like holy crap did that just happen, amazing. When the Boyfriend found out he made the cut for something he’s been working toward for quite sometime I was over the moon excited. When we found out that we might have some overlap in plans and could be in one of my favorite cities together, I was even more thrilled. But, as the plans unfolded and were made I found that concessions would need to be made and well Mama was less than over anybody’s damn moon. I was in a whole other universe of Ugh.

But here’s the thing…

When I stopped and thought about how much this meant to the Boyfriend it didn’t matter that I was flying from a shitty airport in my hometown into a town whose only fame is MC Hammer and a football team known mostly for it’s Nationwide Homeboy Status. This whole adventure was not at all about me. Okay, well the networking stuff I had to do for work, yes, but the whole ball of wax was so not about me. If you know me in real life, I am a Princess about certain things…my clothes, my shoes and my travel…all things I am picky about for the win. But for this man I hung up my Princess crown and strapped on my Big Girl Boots.

Flying out of the tiny airport in my hometown was first on my list of Big Girl moments. I despise flying from there. The salesmen with there stopovers and the Vegas goers give me the willies and make me think about a time when I was young and never slept. It makes me daydream about my old corporate job and when I flew places I adore. Mama’s next Big Girl moment was flying Southwest. *sigh* I never fly Southwest anymore. Never. Unless it’s my only option. Not for a good two years have I climbed in with the cattle. Once we landed in the city I have never flown into because a colleague once told me he’d rather jump into a pool filled with shards of glass, I took a huge deep breath of factory fumes and took one look at the Boyfriend and it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter but I still gave him loads of shit for booking his flight before talking to me.

The whole rest of the journey into the city on mass transit was like a scene from the amazing race. Who the hells bells knew it would take so fracking long to make under a bay and into the real city?!?! Walking quickly from the station through the streets of the city. Looking for decent coffee and stumbling upon a Peet’s directly across from a ‘Bucks. We made it to our rented flat and then onto the next. Phoned for a cab. Thirty-five minutes later we got one. Thirty-five minutes of pacing and waving and yelling and jumping up and down. And in old movie fashion admist traffic, our cabbie instructed us to jump out and walk the rest of the way. That’s right. It was like a scene from some Hollywood drama…HURRY RUN SO YOU CAN MAKE IT!! I just needed a scarf and some wicked heels to run in.

We finally made it. (and scene)

And because Mama is a baller I ran around the corner, down the street to the hotel where my function was happening. A meeting of great minds to figure out how to unite the non-profit worlds with profit companies. My night was full of good winning. I got to see old friends and work colleagues. People who have always been there. Oh and I scored a couple of sweet dressed from a Boutique my friend’s Lady owns controlling interest in and designs for gratis. Like I said baller.

The evening was epic. Martinis filled with magic. I found the Boyfriend and back we went to our rented little hideaway. Both of us floating from an evening of nothing but awesome. Well that is until we arrived back to the flat and were surprised by a door that wouldn’t open. A locked door you ask? No big deal right, just stick the key in the hole? Right. We had been instructed not to lock the bottom lock. Which neither of us did.  But there we stood at 11pm and no way to get into a flat. No concierge to call for help. No front desk to take the elevator down to for rescue. Just us. With a locked door and no key to open the broken bottom lock.

And this my friend is where it gets good…there will be more but it’s late and I’m tired and this blog post could end up being like a gillion words. More tomorrow…

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