planes, boats, and automobiles

If you'd like to catch up on my whirlwind weekend back home in Tennessee, start here:

Friday
Saturday

And now on to Sunday!

Finally, I would get to see my dad, step-mom, and family. Like any other gorgeous weekend at home, they would be found down at the marina on their boat- O Be Joyful. Our plan was to take a boat ride, have lunch, catch up, and then hop in the car to go to the airport.

The boat ride was wonderful. It was a taste of my childhood. It was what I daydream about on hot, humid days in Louisiana when Captain J has to be away and I'm left only with my thoughts. My thoughts drift back to the boat culture in East Tennessee and all the good times I had being a part of it. The weather was great- a little windy, but otherwise pleasant. When we got to the area we wanted to stop to eat, they realized part of the anchor was faulty and it would be too much of a hassle to pull it back up without the part that was missing. Instead Dad just turned her around and we headed back toward dry land with our food in our laps.

Parking the (big) boat into the slip was interesting as the wind was not letting up! But we arrived safely with little damage and filed our trip under a fun, successful day at the lake. I really just didn't take enough pictures that day- I must have been having too much fun soaking up my rarely available time with my family.

By around 4, it was time to start heading to the airport to catch my flight. I was somber knowing that I'd fly away from "home" yet again, but I was also anxious to see my boys waiting on me back in LA. I called Captain J to tell him my flight schedule and confirm times for pickup. He did not answer.

As I arrived at the airport, I said a silent prayer that the security line wasn't long. I only had a few minutes to get to my gate, but the airport was small so I figured there would be plenty of time to get through security, change out of my lake clothes, and board the plane just in time. THINK AGAIN.

I get to the front of the line and they want me to go through the big, intense- hold-your-hands-over-your-head-while-we-look-at-every-curve-of-your-body machine. Great. As I walk through, I hear and see the technology indicating I have explosives in my back pocket. They proceed to ask me if I left anything in my pocket. "No", I replied, trying not to roll my eyes. And away the attendants went to go through my luggage. As I'm standing nearby, all eyes trained on me, an elderly woman also gets the misfortune of such a machine and sets off the explosives detector, too. Meanwhile, a host of men in business suits are freely walking through the regular metal detector and on to their flights. What was the screening process here?

I'm escorted into a room where I'm patted down, very awkwardly. At this point, I didn't care. I was ready for the feel up by the security lady if she would just get on with it. I had a plane to catch. "Quit asking me if it's okay for you to touch me there because if I'm being honest- no, no, it's not okay!", I said I thought. During the search through my bags and the clothes on my back, she was asking me questions like we were out to tea. I wanted to scream, but I knew that wouldn't help my chances of catching my flight so I answered in my best southern woman charm like I was having the best day of my life.

She tells me I'm free to go and that I will have to put my belongings back into my bags because there's "no way" she'll get them to fit again. Enter boiling hot anger. But I smiled and said, "Yes, it's tricky." Then I stuffed my crap into the bags and ran toward my gate. Still in tiny shorts and a spaghetti strap shirt, I hoped there was time enough to change my clothes. I decided to at least try. The gate was in sight and they'd probably hold the plane for me since it was such a small flight anyway. I quickly changed into something a little warmer as I usually get cold while flying and then made my way to wait to be called to board. I didn't have to wait long as you may have guessed. I was content that I made it in time and I began to update my facebook and twitter so people knew the hassle that had befallen me. I tried again to call my husband. No answer.

Once on the plane, we begin taxiing out and suddenly all power goes off. In minutes the aircraft is stifling hot in the Knoxville heat and we're being informed that something is wrong with the plane so we'll have to wait for it to be fixed before we can leave. Much time passes that I think I might be in danger of missing my connecting flight in Texas and also overheating because I just had to change my clothes, didn't I?

The tool in front of me decide to pitch a fit about the delay. That was amusing, as usual and I thanked my lucky stars for the added entertainment.

Finally, we were off and I could sit back and relax...except, I still hadn't heard from my hubby. I hope nothing is wrong. I get to Texas and begin navigating the bigger airport while I'm frantically calling everyone I know to see if there has been any word from Captain J. At this point, it has been almost 6 hours of no contact. The stresses of the day begin to weigh on me and I sit down and have a legit panic attack in the floor of the airport. Yes, I was that girl.

A woman hands me a tissue while I tearfully tell my mom on the phone that something must be wrong with Baby K or they've been in a terrible accident and I'm going to kill him when I see him. You know, the usual. I'm a complete mess when my flight begins to board (late) and I still haven't heard from him. I was supposed to meet him in an hour and I had no idea if he would even be there to pick me up. I still thought he was dead.

Sitting on the plane, my phone rang and it was him. I answered sweetly. What happened to my plan of I might kill him? He says, "I'm so sorry, babe- I left my phone in the truck." Oooo. He better have been glad I was so happy to know my boys were okay otherwise he might have gotten his feelings hurt.

I was never so happy to see anyone as I was when I got back to my little family. Leaving Baby K was hard and to finally get to see his cute, chubby arms resting peacefully in the backseat was heaven on Earth. On top of it all, Captain J had cleaned the house for me.

It wasn't the best Sunday in the world, but it wasn't the worst I've had either.