You know, a 3 hour lay over in a airport 1 hour away from my stepmother is not the only traveling mistake I made Monday. I didn’t mean to come home in the middle of a snow storm. Honest. I didn’t.

What a nightmare the airport was. The minute we landed, everyone got on their cell phones and I started hearing conflicting reports of which route to take home. I did hear that I should fill the tank, go the bathroom, and bring food because it was going to be a long haul. I didn’t want to call my mom, because it was kinda late, so I did as instructed, picked up my luggage and headed out to the parking lot.

Now, I never knew that cold temperatures could affect elevators but 4 of the 6 elevators were out of service. And it took me, I kid you not, 10 minutes to take an elevator up one floor. There were people who would flat out NOT hold the door while I struggled to get over to the elevator going up with everything in my hands. It was a breakdown in humanity, I’m telling you. But, then I got up to the fifth floor and… realized I had forgotten where I had parked. I knew it was 101… something. Possibly the 5th floor.

It took 25 minutes of walking around for me to find it. Up and down the aisles. FYI – 5G-101.

So, I got out of the parking lot no problem. But then, it actually got worse at that point. 20 minutes on the road to the freeway and I had moved yards. I gave in and called my mom, took her advice and checked into their airport Hilton. Really comfy bed and, in my opinion, black out curtains are the best invention of the 20th century. My next bedroom is going to have some. I stayed there until checkout, giving all the ice a chance to melt, before I headed home.

Now, I’m home, surrounded by snow, with a cat who won’t leave my side. She missed me. It’s cozy. Another storm is on the way, and I’m bummed because it will delay my trip up to Victoria. But I’ve got hot chocolate, plenty of stuff saved up on the tivo, laundry to do, and a level 19 Night Elf Hunter who is soooo close to levelling up to 20 it’s not even funny. So I’ve got no real complaints. it’s all good.

Boy, am I stupid. I’m sitting here in the Charlotte NC Airport because I am the worst travel planner in the world. The flight from the Greensboro Airport to Charlotte was about an hour. Add in the requisite two hour buffer arrival time, and that’s three hours. Now, it’s about two and a half until my plane takes off to Seattle. My stepmom said it would have taken her about an hour to drive to Charlotte. Are you sensing my stupidity here?

If only there was wireless here. I could be playing WoW, at the very least. Instead, I am sitting in a Chili’s. Which is fine, I truly enjoy their Grilled Chicken Cesar Salad. It’s a shame that i am not doing NaNo… oh the writing I could get done.

So last night, when we were traveling through the Festival of Lights at Tanglewood Park, my steomom had Christmas songs playing on the radio. Josh and I were sitting in the back seat when this horrible song came on. Truly, the worst xmas song I’ve ever heard. It’s called XXXXXXX, and it’s all about this kid who’s mom is dying. This poor, dirt covered kid, who is trying to buy his dying momma a pair of shoes on Christmas Eve. And he doesn’t have a lot of time left, apparently she is truly at death’s door, so won’t someone please sell him these shoes so his momma will look pretty if she goes to meet Jesus tonight. I’m not making this up, has anyone else heard this song?

Now the moment he mentioned his momma looking pretty when she went to meet Jesus, Josh and I started balking. It was the worst kind of manufactured sentimentality. And even worse, it wasn’t even good, musically speaking. Listen to it, if you dare….. it’s called the Christmas Shoes.

Gross, eh? I mean, seriously… COME ON! I declared that whomever wrote this song should be shot. I’m actually kind of offended by the crass use of, well, poor children with dying mommas. And Christmas. And shoes. But then I felt bad, because it it’s Christmas and all.

Me: But in the butt, maybe. With buckshot? Not like… TO DEATH or anything.

Josh: To the pain?

Me: Exactly!

Wow, two hours and 20 minutes to go. I’d better eat this salad slowly.

I seem to disconnect from blogging when I leave my home, don’t I? I’m still in North Carolina. My brother Josh is playing a Star Wars video game and I am playing WoW and Titanic is on the tv. Luckily, we had it on a different channel for most the love story. We are just watching the sinking part. I like the quartet that keeps playing as the ship sinks.

So today we all piled in the car and went to a local park called Tanglewood. They have a Festival of Lights. You drive thru with your car, and it’s quite lovely. Sometimes it’s like going through a tunnel of lights. Like giant snowflakes coming down. There were xmas type things like candy canes, reindeer, and of course, baby jesus. And non xmas type things like… golfers and a pirate ship.

Anyways, I miss you all. I’ll be home tomorrow night. I have all next week off, as is my tradition, to finish NaNoWriMo. Except this year, I’m not going to finish it, am I? No, I am not. Sad. But I still have the week off. A couple of days packed with appts. and then off to Victoria for a 4 day weekend.

I’m in Winston-Salem, North Carolina for the holidays. Sorry I haven’t explained the ghost thing yet, yesterday was spent in airports and planes. The day before was spent blowing my nose, doing laundry and napping. Man, there is nothing better than a day on airplanes with a cold.

So Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope there are not spelling errors in this post, I’m typing this in bed with no glasses, everything is just one big blur. Dangerblogging.

Did I mention that I got a Canadian pre-paid cell phone. Wil currently does not have a phone, for the time being. Neither one of us are phone people, really. But you kinda need one in emergencies. And there was no way for the less email/chat inclined family to reach me on the weekends. So I got a simple pre-paid phone, which I leave with him during the week. My American pre-paid cell phone does not have service once I cross the border, for whatever reason.

Sales guy: Any preferences for numbers?

Jodi: I like 8’s.

Wil: I like phone numbers that rhyme. Something easy to remember.

Jodi: Maybe a phone number that spells something?

My Canadian phone number? (no, I’m not really going to give you the entire number, just the important part) XXX-XXX-JODI.

Seriously.

So, in the category of Interesting Classes I take with KK, I give you our newest endeavor, The Pole Dancing Workout. We’ve actually been trying to get into this class for months, but since the studio was featured in a newspaper article, it’s been hard to get in at times we could go. Last night was our second class…. I actually wrote this long post about it last week, and for some reason forgot to post it. Nor did I even notice that I forgot to post it. Damn you WoW!!

The class starts out with a floor work and stretching. A couple of things I’ve learned off the bat, slow everything down. The class is full of little ways to make normal movements seem sensual. When it comes to getting up from a kneeling position, however, I fail. I tried and tried to do the little kneel – squat – rise up thing and I tip over some where around the squat part. I can do the kneeling, and I’m ok when we get to part where you stick your ass out, and then your chest and face, but it’s getting from kneeling to standing…. but you know what? I’m ACES at the hair flip.

We also learned to stripper walk. The stripper walk is a slow, foot dragging, leg crossing, hip popping walk that actually takes a bit balance. You start out walking. Then you slow it down, then you add the foot drag thingy, hen the leg crossing, then you add the hip pop… you can see at this point, that’s like… THREE things to think of at once, and walking is not my strongest suit as it is. I had to stick close to the walls and poles for a bit. I’m sure those who work with me will eventually see KK and I practicing our stripper walk down the halls of POE, however don’t bother asking me to see it. My teacher says we are not allowed to show anyone our moves for at least six weeks. It’s bad enough that KK and I are there together. It’s important that we not look at each other as we hang on to the pole, bend over with our asses out, and then do a hair flip – or we’ll start cracking up. And cracking up ruins the sexy. Not looking at each other is our Best Move so far.

Last night we added something new to the mix – 6″ platform exotic dancer shoes. Now, we all know that I am challenged, coordinationally speaking. But this is the part I was actually looking forward to the most. First, because maybe it will give me a bit more grace in normal heels. Also, it required shoe shopping. And, lastly, would I ever have an excuse to buy 6″ platform stripper shoes in my life, ever, if not for this class? No! KK, she was not so into the idea. She’s a tall girl as it is, and while she is fine with her current height, she is not looking forward to adding 6″ to it. Even in 6″ heels, I am not as tall as she is in flats, still 4″ shorter. These are my shoes.

I was so disappointed that we did not put them on immediately, but rather stayed barefoot during floorwork. However, I wasn’t in them but for a minute when I wanted those fuckers off my feet ASAP. All that pressure on the balls of your feet… it’s not comfy. As for walking in them? There is a high possibility of sprains in my future.

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Please.

It’s the only way we can change things.

If you happen to like the way things are going, well… then please stay home. it’s cold outside and you should stay home and stay dry. Don’t bother voting, it’s not important.

A pink carebear and two wee little firemen just came to my door. And I noticed that when their moms said “say thank you” I said “Thank you!”

I’m so well trained.

Happy Halloween!

To save time, we should just consider the following rant to be true every time I drive to Victoria on a Friday night after work, m’kay?

The 9th circle of hell has traditionally been home to traitors, who are immersed in the frozen lake Cocytus, unless they are, of course, Cassius, Brutus or Judas…. they are forever to be chewed up by Satan… gross, eh? Anyway, I am going to start a petition to elevate traitors to the 8th circle of hell, clearing way for what I consider to be a greater sin, those who drive in the left hand land despite the fact that they couldn’t pass wind, let alone another car on the freeway. Those who knowingly disobey the signs “Keep right except to pass” or “Slower traffic keep right” will spend eternity submerged up to their necks in frozen lakewater, everything but their heads and hands, with little hell fish tickling their feet… unable to scratch or brush the little buggers away. As for Satan’s jaws, I’m keeping those free for now… I like to keep my options open… for when people really piss me off.

Come on!! Who’s with me!

That’s Friday’s drive. Sunday’s drive is all dark and cruise control, enjoying the sections of 70 mph speed limit and trying to control myself during the sections of 60 mph. Wondering how many big towns and how many little towns a quarter of a tank of gas will take me through, and connecting the dots from one outlet mall to the next Indian Casino.

I tried Native American Casino…it didn’t sound right.