The Myth of Fingerprints

(...or more like All Around the World!)

Last week/this week was certainly a logistical whirlwind, and I fall back in "normalcy" tomorrow morning. I just got back from a quick fun weekend in California--we stayed at a beautiful hotel within walking distance to the wharf; I learned how to play poker (sortofnotreally); we hiked Lombard to see the curviest street in the country; and we braved what was one of the longest airport fiascos that I've ever encountered. 

But let's start over. On Thursday, I went to work and was bombarded with calls, emails, and visits about one of my groups. All hell was in the process of breaking loose--late for breakfast, lost in Arlington, bus wreck on the National Mall!! Oh lawd. I had to leave at noon to drive to DC to meet one of my groups, so I put up my out-of-office, hit the road, and met one of my favorite teachers at Arlington National Cemetery. 

It was a gorgeous day, and things couldn't have gone smoother--everyone was smiling, happy, and thankful... why can't everyone be like that?! Ok, so maybe it was a little too beautiful outside (I got sunburned on my nose, noooooo) and maybe I did take my bra off in the middle of the cemetery (to be fair, it was behind a tree. I was hot! What do you want from me?!?). But overall--great visit. 

Anyway, drove home, stopped at the Moo Thru, got myself a Moundz Milkshake, and booked it back to the 'ville to get ready for my 6:00AM flight. 

So delicious...

4:00AM. Wake up call. Scramble around and head out the door to pick up CV at her house and then make our way to the airport. When we arrive, everything seems to be working...except they tell us our 6:30AM flight is cancelled. Awesome! There are no other flights until Sunday, unless we want to cab to Dulles for a 11:50AM flight. Sooo....2 hours later (10hours after I'd just left), we're back at IAD and waiting for our flight. It's not as horrible as it sounds...we got a long, sit-down breakfast, stocked up on mags, and flew from IAD to LAX to SFO and only arrived 4hours late for our event. No biggie.

This does not look promising. 

... commence shitting of pants...

Not the Blue Ridge...

Thankfully, the event went very well--everyone had a great time, I didn't notice any major snags, and the beds were oh-so comfy when we collapsed after the event. The next day, we got to explore a little more and it was sooo pretty!

 

 

 

 

 

Sigh. We had an amazing dinner at The Slanted Door down by the wharf and called it an end to a short and sweet weekend away. The next morning, our 3:45AM wake-up call goes off and we say farewell to the Omni San Francisco to head to the airport. Everything seemed to be going just fine (does this sound familiar?)....until we're 3 hours into the flight and the captain comes on the speaker to announce that there are "dangerous storms in Chicago" and we'll have to land in Peoria Airport (aka bumfuck Illinois) to wait it out. Basically, this is his way of saying kiss yo ass goodbye. 

Like this will really make a difference...

Impending doom.

We wait it out for an hour. On the runway. With no AC. Finally, we're able to fly the 30 minutes to Chicago, and by this point, we've already missed our connecting flight. The good news: it was cancelled, so we're not alone. The bad news: the next flight's not till 7:30PM. This can only mean one thing--Margaritas!!! The airport bar has never looked so good...

Not SFP.

Chicago is fugly.

Meanwhile, as we creep closer and closer to 7:40...the weather worsens....and the flight is delayed to 9:40...then 10:05....then finally we're on the plane--lightening and thunder and flying cows are all around and if there were ever a time for me to praise a holier power, this would probs be it. Despite Mother Nature's wrath, we take off. I am not speaking lightly when I say that it is a miracle we made it home alive/with vomit-free clothing. It.was.awful.

All in all--we got home at 2:00AM Eastern time, a mere 12 hours after we were originally supposed to arrive. I'm not going to say, "I told you so," when it comes to my belief that people are not meant to fly...but srsly. 

Overall--great weekend! It was nice to be a baby jet-setter and I always love visiting beautiful cities. San Francisco definitely had a different flavor from the last time I was there, as a wide-eyed, ecstatic recent high-school grad, but I loved it just the same. 

Do I really have to work tomorrow? Is it July yet? The countdown to NOLA has happened full force, and I absolutely cannot wait!

xoxo,

Hannah

How Life Is Supposed to Be Lived

It's 80 degrees. You're eating oysters. You've caught enough crabs to feed six people. You've got good jams, good drinks, good friends. It's October. You brunch at Rayfields. You take drives to Virginia Beach to pick up Bailey's Cake for birthday celebrations. You buy new nail polish. You go to used book sales at small-town libraries that have been converted from old churches. You buy 3 hardback books for $1.00. It's 80 degrees.

There are cute dogs...everywhere.

It's 80 degrees.

You lay out by the pool.

You get good kisses.

You wander the bay.

You drive down country roads and snap close-ups of the cotton fields.

You drool over old buildings and fantasize about renovations.

You sip Cape Charles coffee.  You eat bagels with lox and capers and onions and cream cheese. You make garlic bread.

You are free to "express yourself."

You drive a turquoise T-bird for four hours with the top down. You film everything.

YOU DO IT FOR MELFA!!

Basically, you are this woman:

She's rlll famous.

xoxo,
Hannah

Hold on to Your Britches!

Earthquakes, shmearthquakes--Aunt Irene is coming to town and she's the house guest who always leaves the toilet seat up. The last time I braced for gale-force winds and fled the scene of potential destruction, I was a wee baby freshman at Tulane and I had the pleasure(?) of camping out at one of LSU's classiest establishments...the AGR frat house. Yes, it was an interesting time in my young life--a time that included kegs and kegs of beer, homemade beignets, barefoot soccer games, and--let's be honest--a few hurricane make outs. What? I WAS LOOKING DEATH IN THE EYE! It had to be done.

Luckily, Hurricane Ivan took a turn for the better and left New Orleans unscathed, and I was forced to return to my little world of running, rules, and rich kids. Lame to the max.

But this time's different. This time we've got Irene, and although I'm nowhere near the coast, I'm not taking any chances. I'm headed south in a blazing fury to meet up with some of the most chill, fun-loving, let-the-good-times-roll former Blacksburgians on the map.

Reunion 2011 is gonna cause some serious waves on its own, and hopefully the only hurricane we encounter comes in a glass with an umbrella. I'm sure we'll celebrate our glorious union with some variation of this:

And probably four or five orders of these:

Obviously, we'll need to soothe our worries with the beer that "has the touch":

And hopefully the weekend won't result in this:

Yes, this is a PBR coffin. You can cast your own judgement on this one.

And although our plans for floating lazily down the river may be dashed, we can always cross our fingers for rapids, right?? No matter what trouble we find, it's a guaranteed good time. We've got Rockstarr, Dlock1, Aaaamazing, Kirtley, Feets, and tons more.

Sweet baby Jesus better brace himself...B&B is back in town!

xxx, Hannah