AHHHH i can't take this anymore. I need out, out, out and away and gone and done and no more of the shit and the gross and the crummy and the selfish and the WRONG PRIORITIES IN YOUR LIFE, IDIOT.

I need to break something before I completely break down.

I spent Thanksgiving in the Newark airport.

So Jakki offers to drive me to the airport, which is wicked. We leave at 7:15-7:30 and my flight leaves at 11:05. Plenty of time, right? Well, it snowed 10 cm the night before, and people are idiots and we ended up going about 40 kph the whole way. Shiiiiit. We get to the airport at 10:30, and I book it. I run through security and baggage and whatever else was in my way and I make it to the gates just before our plane pulls in. Phew.

The plane starts boarding at 10:50 and I get on and everything is good. There's only one seat on my side of the plane, so I don't have to deal with anyone sitting next to me. Score! ...three hours later, we finally get onto the de-icing pad. Which takes us almost another 30 minutes. It's now 2 in the afternoon, I'm sitting on a runway in Toronto, and my connecting flight that I was supposed to catch at Newark has just landed in Boston. Fan-fuckin-tastic. I don't worry too much, as I know that they'll put me on another flight cause the weather made me miss it.

I get to Newark (airport from hell) and make a b-line to the desk. The next flight to Boston leaves the next morning at 10:30. Fuuuuuuck. I ask them if they can put me on a flight to Portland instead. They can, only it leaves at noon the next day. I tell them fine, whatever, and I ask them to pull my bags so that I can have clean clothes tonight, and they tell me to go to the baggage claim office and they'll get it all sorted out. Great. They give me a "hotel voucher" and three "meal vouchers", which are just coupon for a $55 room and a $12, $8 and $6 meal coupon. Whatever, I want to go to bed.

I go to baggage claim and ask them to pull my bag from the plane going to Boston the next morning. They say sure, and that it will take a couple of hours. Fina, whatever, I want my bag.

I sit down, pissed, about to cry, and I call home. Everyone is there, they're about to sit down to dinner, and I'm sitting at the baggage claim eating a bacon-egg-and-cheese breakfast sandwich. I give my dad the low-down, he gives me my aunt and uncle's number right outside of Newark. I try to call, but no luck. The number doesn't work.

I break down, go to the men's room and lock myself in a stall for ten minutes while I curse the weather and the shitty, shitty service at Newark. I return and wait for my bags.

FOUR HOURS LATER... no sign of my bags. I go to the claim office, and they tell me that my bags have been set aside to go to Boston the next day, and that there is nothing they can do, so I had better just go to my hotel and wait for my flight the next day. My phone rings, and it's my aunt, already on her way to the airport. My sister, who is good friends with my cousins down here and many of their friends as well, calls around to see if anyone knows where they are and the first number she called was the person whose house my cousins were at.

They arrive with a plate of food for me, in the car, and take me to their house where I spend the night, they get me to the airport on time the next day, and I'm off to Portland.

Meanwhile, this thing on my tongue has reached critical status and has erupted - literally - to full-blown tongue-ulcer status. I actually have a crater on my tongue.

My baggage arrived yesterday and I leave tomorrow. Not as relaxing as I would have liked, but I'll deal.

Small friends purge. Plausible reasons for removal: I don't comment on your entries. You don't comment on mine. I don't like you (in only one or two cases). I don't know you well. That is all.