TEMPE, ARIZONA

(After reading this blog, be sure to click the link at the bottom to see all of the pictures from our trip.)

The Clemson baseball team recently played Arizona State in Tempe, AZ. Will flew out on Thursday, 6/4 to cover the series. On a whim, I decided I would fly out Friday, as I had school Thursday. I would have to return Sunday to get ready for school Monday and Will's return would be based on the outcome of the games.

Me and airports. What is the DEAL? There is always something that comes up, and I mean always. I need to get a clue.

My flight out of Atlanta was to leave at 9:25am. Atlanta is 2 hours from my house. I got up at 4:00am and left here at 5:45am which should have had me at the airport by 7:45am. That would have given me plenty of time to get through security and find my gate.

About an hour into the trip, traffic came to a complete stop. I rolled down my window and yelled at a truck driver next to me to see if he knew what was going on. (When I told Will this later, he was mortified. "You rolled down the window and talked to a STRANGER on the road?!" "Yes Will, I live on the wild side.") The trucker told me there was a bad wreck that involved two 18-wheelers and a car and there were fatalities. He told me I would have to get over a lane and we were going to have to detour off a certain exit.

It was at this point that I went into panic mode. First of all, I get lost very, very, very easily. I did not like the sound of the word "detour." Secondly, I started getting a little worried that I would not make my flight. At this point though, I still thought maybe we would start moving and I would make it.

I called my brother, Adam, who is a truck driver. Daddy is a truck driver too but he is off on Friday's and I assumed he was sleeping, but thinking back he was probably sitting in the living room at 4:30am listening to the TV on his headphones that Will wants to steal.

ANYWAY, I called Adam to see if he could help me with the detour directions. He told me that he had passed the wreck coming the other way and it was bad. I ended up just having to cross over the road at the exit and get back on the interstate, but I didn't realize it was going to be that easy.

Before I exited, I caught a glimpse of the wreck. It makes my stomach churn just thinking about it now. One semi was overturned. It was bad, real bad.

I tried to push the image out of my mind and glanced at the time. The time was past 8:00am and I still had an hour to go. Plus, I forgot that I would be driving through rush hour in downtown Atlanta. Add on more time.

I called the airport and they said they might be able to put me on another flight if I missed mine, but I could try to make it. I was so upset. I wanted to cry like a 2 year old.

But, I drove as fast as I could, circled the never ending parking lot at the Atlanta Airport, finally find a spot, grabbed my bag, and ran to the terminal. I was flying Air Tran so I grabbed the first Air Tran employee I saw and explained that it was 9:15 and my flight was to leave at 9:25. She told me to try to see if I could print the boarding pass and then run for the plane.

I ran to the kiosk to print the pass and the man in front of me decided to pass gas and I mean it was B-A-D!!!! I was about to gag, seriously. He was speaking some foreign language and I wanted to yell, "We don't do that in public in America buddy-roo!" But, I had to focus! I quickly typed in my information and it said something like, "You are too late for bye-bye flight. See airport attendant." I stood there staring at it for a while. The whole "bye-bye" terminology threw me for a loop and I still don't know what it meant! But, I did understand that my plane had gone "bye-bye" and I was standing in the dreaded ATL.

I then got in line and explained to the attendant that 85 was shut down, I missed my flight, and now what? She said she had a space for me on the 12:30 flight. Wonderful. I would have to spend 3 hours in the airport and instead of arriving in AZ at 10:30am (3 hour time difference) I would arrive at 1:30pm. The flight itself takes 4 hours. Very strange to be in the air for 4 hours but arrive at your destination an hour after you took off. Ok, I just confused my own self trying to explain that.

I pouted, went through stupid security, after taking off my stupid shoes, glared at the stupid man for telling me to take off my stupid watch, rode the stupid tram to my stupid gate and just pouted some more.

Reality eventually set in though. Here I was pouting over a few hours setback when people DIED on the interstate in a horrific accident that very morning. They died on the very same side of the road that I was to travel over. Should I pout because I missed my flight or should I thank God that he spared me from being in the accident myself? The answer was clear.

After I gave myself that little talking to, I decided to buy a Mountain Dew out of a vending machine. It cost $1.75 (highway robbery!). I put $5 in the machine. It gave me a quarter back. Ok, this made me furious. I was not even much less having this. I found a telephone number on the machine and made the call, "I am standing in the Atlanta Airport at one of your machines and it just robbed me of $3. I would like my money…now." The poor guy was so helpful and nice. He was like, "Ok, you are in the Atlanta airport? Ummmm….I will get someone over there as soon as possible." I waited around 20 minutes. I was determined. The funny part is, that while I was waiting, I ended up giving some lady money to buy a drink that didn't have enough, but it was the PRINCIPLE! The guy finally arrived, out of breath, and handed me 3 one dollar coins. I thanked him profusely.

I went back to my gate where I was informed my plane was in Chicago and we were on a 45 minute delay. Oh happy day! We did eventually leave the ground. I tried to sleep until about an hour before we got there. I had some coffee and a cookie and was determined to beat this jet lag thing.

Once I finally arrived in AZ, Will and I had to make a mad dash to the rental car area because he had to cover practice and we only had about an hour to get him there. Ok, I am already laughing because this is just downright funny. Let me get myself together so I can tell this part of the trip. I really don't even know if I can explain it. You had to be there and you have to know Will!

Deep breath...ok…we were told that we were getting a small silver car and to go wait in the garage and someone would bring it to us. I spotted a man pull up in a silver car and then he parked it. I told Will to go ask if that was our car so we could hurry the process along and get him to practice on time. Will walked up to the man and said this exactly, "Are you looking for me?" The man gave him a very strange look and said rather hurriedly that no he was NOT looking for him. We found out that the man did not work for the rental company, but was actually returning his car. To him, it must have sounded as if Will was coming on to him, like "Are you looking for me? The man of your dreams?" I mean, those car rental people really thought I was crazy because I laughed for a LONG time.

We finally got our car which was a silver PT Cruiser. Will found it insanely funny to watch me drive it. I have no idea why. It wasn't that funny. As we drove to the hotel, I started asking Will why there were dirt piles everywhere. He informed me those were mountains. What?! Whatever! They looked like dirt piles to me.

He dropped me off at the hotel while he went to work. I promptly fell asleep the moment I walked in the door and didn't wake up until about 8:30pm. We decided to venture out for dinner. We went to downtown Tempe which was….interesting. I mean, people are just weird, ok? Weird!

We ended up at a place called "My Big Fat Greek Restaurant." I got steak and Will got lamb. Our food arrived and we both looked at each other like, "This was a mistake." First of all, I asked for my steak medium rare. It was very much well done. Will thought he was getting lamb chops. What he got was lamb legs! Oh my goodness, they looked sooooo gross! We finally ended up just asking the waitress to take everything away and she offered us free dessert.

We decided on some type of baklava, ice-cream, flambé thing. She brought it out on fire. I'm not talking a little on fire, I'm talking a LOT on fire. I was already laughing and then the waitress said this, "Be careful of this plate. It's hot." That was about when I lost my mind and laughed hysterically. "Fire? Hot? Me not even know! You genius!" Will poked at what looked like a dinosaur egg (yes, I do know what dinosaur eggs look like!) on the plate and repeatedly asked me what it was while I continued to laugh. We sawed into it and it contained ice-cream which was actually very good.

We made it back to the room, where we crashed. The next morning, we set out to find breakfast. We ended up at I-Hop, where I think I was made fun of about my southern accent by a group of servers who could not speak English. Go figure.

Will had to write after breakfast so I set out to find the pool. I was out there for about 10 minutes in the 102 degree dry heat and went and told Will I was going to find a raft. He thought I was crazy. I found a Family Dollar down the road and bought a fine raft for $3.

I floated for a couple of hours until Will came and got me to get ready for lunch. We found a place called Lucille's that was said to serve great southern food. They were NOT lying! I mean, it was GOOD stuff. I had sweet tea in a big 'ol mason jar, a sampling of BBQ (brisket, chopped pork, ribs), creamy macaroni and cheese, and guess what? They put slices on watermelon on my plate without me even asking. How did they know about my love for it?! Will had the same thing, but had mashed potatoes instead of macaroni..he missed out. Oh, and I stole his watermelon before he even had time to put his napkin in his lap. Then, even though we were both stuffed we HAD to have the banana pudding. They brought it out in mason jars. Layers upon layers of pudding, cookies, whipped cream…GOOD!

After that, we did some quick sight seeing. We took pictures by the cactuses (cacti?), the dirt piles, the stadium, the PT Cruiser, etc. Will had to go to the game so I went on back to the room. It was about 5:00 when I passed out and did not wake up until the next morning! I guess the jet lag did get to me!

I had to be on my flight at 11:25. We got up and found a great breakfast place called US Egg. I asked for fruit, bacon, and hashbrowns. They brought me enough fruit to feed an army…loved every bit of it. Will went traditional and loved his as well.

About 20 minutes into the meal though, my stomach decided it was not loving it. It needed a bathroom and it needed it NOW. I made my way to the restroom where, guess what? It was closed because the toilet overflowed and they were working on it! I was about to die! I had to make my way back to Will and tell him to come see if any men were in the men's room and then stand guard. I was NOT playing. He did so and I was a little embarrassed to see two men waiting when I came out. I wanted to explain everything, "I have ulcerative colitis. I don't control my stomach. It controls me. Your bathroom already stinks anyway, because men's bathroom's always do. Stop looking at me like that!" But, I just looked down and ran back to my table.

I couldn't eat anymore. My stomach was very mad at me. We got to the airport where I literally stayed in the restroom until I had to go through security. I was in pain and actually CRYING in front of everyone, but I had to get on that plane! I am telling y'all this because looking back this stuff is so funny to me, even though it wasn't at the time. This kind of thing only happens to me, I just know it. Airports do NOT like me and I don't know why.

I painfully walked to my gate and sat kind of slumped over until they let us board. When the UC flare-ups hit, they just do, and I am worthless. (I am seriously going to ask my doctor to cut out the bad part and then duct tap the two ends back together. I'm not playing. It's only 18cm and that's nothing compared to the 26 feet, or whatever, of intestines we have. WHY am I talking to y'all about this????) Once on board, I tried to sleep, but couldn't. By the time we reached Atlanta, I was exhausted but not hurting anymore.

We de-boarded and I walked determinedly to the parking lot. Yeah…where did I park my Jeep again? I remember slamming the Jeep into a spot and running into the airport, but I did not remember where. The Atlanta Airport parking lot is bigger than Disney World's, I'm telling you. I walked and I walked and I walked. I could not find it. I periodically hit the lock button on my keychain hoping my Jeep would call to me. No such luck.

I resigned eventually to having to call for airport security to help me. After waiting close to 20 minutes, someone arrived. He already had one passenger in the front seat who also couldn't find his vehicle. He said he had to fly somewhere for a funeral and just couldn't remember where he left it. Since he was first, I got to sit in the backseat and ride in circles until we found the man's van. I then told the security dude what I did remember about the vicinity of the Jeep and we found it rather quickly.

I made it back home in one piece, but I was one tired lady. I crawled into bed and prepared myself for a 3 hour lecture the next morning, followed by a one hour lunch, and then back to school for lab.

Do I regret going? Nah. What's life without a little adventure along the way?
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