As you read in the last post, I stayed out late dancing, so the next morning I rolled out of bed, threw some clothes in my rolly suitcase and had a strong cup of coffee. Daddy gave me a ride to the airport and dropped me off at good ole Terminal 4. When I found my gate, I met a little girl with a hedgehog. Not a live hedgehog, mind you, a plush one. Not just a plush one, mind you, but a driver cover! Of course, I started talking with this little girl and her amiable grandparents who were flying to Dallas with me. They told me about how she played golf and about her cousin who started playing golf when he was 18 months old. Whether that is a slight grandparental exaggeration or not, I cannot say.
I sat next to a mother and daughter who watched a movie and got off the plane in Albuquerque. That's where the interesting people got on. They weren't interesting in the way that people you try to avoid on airplanes are. They were the sort of interesting you secretly hope will sit next to you because they seem nice and won't fall asleep on your shoulder and drool on your mom's leather jacket that you borrowed to go to Dallas. They were chatty in just the right dosage. The wife had her Kindle out, but would talk with her husband about the kitchen tools he was looking at in SkyMall and to me about how she almost cut her finger off with a submersible blender. Ouch. Oh, and they were rich. They have a house in Santa Fe and her leather travel bag was the kind of leather you know didn't come from Walmart. Oh, and there was the fur coat made of beaver and fox. But they weren't snobby rich people, just nice ones.
We landed, as planes generally do, and I power walked myself down to the baggage claim where I promptly started screaming and tackled my friends Mark and Rachel. We drove off to Mark's apartment where I tackled Marcus and got the Mark and Marc apartment tour. After that, I climbed on the back of a motorcycle with Marcus and we zoomed off for a short tour de Dallas. [Yes parents, I was wearing a helmet.] This made me want a motorcycle. Speed, adrenaline, a valid excuse to buy leather pants, what's not to like?
That night we gathered at Chris and Rachel's apt for games and dessert. Rachel beat the tar out of Rachel C and I at this crazy trains game. But that's OK, I don't mind losing in such good company. The rest of the evening involved the boys talking a lot about the difference between Indi racing and Formula One, and the future of the Dallas Mavs. It was a good lulling to sleep conversation and I almost dropped off curled up in Rach and Chris's double soft armchair.
The next morning it was off to World Market for champagne, Target for flutes, and Starbucks for a caffeinated pick me up in the form of a gingerbread latte with whip (a standard Sunshine feature). The last stop I knew, I knew, I KNEW I should have left my wallet in the car. It was REI, and even though I had just read an article about how people are more susceptible when things say "SALE", I FELL FOR IT. Oh loathing susceptibility to marketing tactics! It was a little pack, red/burgundy, hydration equipped and I could use it for day hikes or walking around Australia! I escaped with only one purchase. Whew.
Back to the house to toss things back into the suitcase that had escaped in the last 24 hours and into the car with Rach for a mini-road trip to Arkansas to see friends and go to a wedding. Right now I'm in the car with Han, Sambo, and Rach, garbed in my sale rack leopard print one shoulder dress… I don't know why people pay full price for anything, really.
More on weddings, words and waffles later,
Little Miss Sunshine
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