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So here I sit... in my office. Exactly where I was a few short hours ago on Friday morning... missing her and looking at almost two weeks before we could see each other. I'm tired. This is way too early for me to be at work. I searched and searched on Thursday for flights that I could afford... everything was either completely booked or well over a grand. I just couldn't make the stretch. Friday morning, I had almost accepted that I was not going to see her again before Christmas when I decided to look just once more. A seat had opened up at the last minute. I couldn't book it online because the system was too busy and I kept getting bumped trying to get a ticketing agent. Finally (and frantically), I was able to get someone on the phone that was eager to help me... $700 later I had a ticket and a rental car to begin what was going to be the most stressful air travel I have ever had. I left work early to get to the airport. Traffic was absolutely insane. Since ever flight into Colorado Springs was booked, I had to fly into Denver... via Minnesota. I didn't tell her I was coming. I wanted this to be a surprise. The flight into the twin cities was uneventful until we entered the approach area. It was snowing at the airport and ATC was being extra cautious. We were placed in a holding pattern for about 45 minutes before being cleared to land. This normally would not be an issue... except this time, my connecting flight into Denver was scheduled for an hour after my arrival from Houston. You do the math: 45 minutes in holding + 8 minute taxi to gate + 2 or 3 minutes to deplane (I was in the front of the aircraft) = holy shit. I ran from the plane to the nearest gate information screen to find my departing flight about a half mile on the other side of the airport (no exaggeration). I sprinted toward my gate. I jumped on a cart that was headed that way, but apparently the guy thought he was driving Ms. Daisy, so I leaped from the cart and continued my mad dash for the flight. Now, one half mile in five minutes isn't bad, but when you have a sweater, jacket, and carry-on bag in tow... wearing Docs... and you're out of shape (like me)... THAT is a struggle. I was so out of breath as I arrived at the gate that I couldn't speak. I shoved my ID and boarding pass into the ladies hand as they were beginning to close the door to the plane. I almost spent the night in Minneapolis... but I didn't. Thank God. I was still huffing and puffing as I found my seat on this completely full flight. Everyone was glaring at me like I was some kind of freako. I just smiled. I made it. Anyhoo, the flight to Denver was bumpy with a lot of extreme turbulence on approach, but we landed on time and I before long, I had my rental and was on the road to Colorado Springs. I suppose it was about quarter after midnight when I pulled up to her apartment... about 10 hours after I left Houston. I didn't realize it was 95 miles from Denver International to her place. I didn't care. It was worth every second. Bob and Christina had been in on my surprise and so they made sure she answered the door when I knocked. I wish I had a picture of the look on her face. Priceless. Of course, I was in a little trouble for making her worry since I had been in the air and out of touch all afternoon/evening... but not too much. I felt terrible about that... but I know that I couldn't lie to her and I would have spoiled the surprise if I had called when I got to Denver.





Even though I was only able to stay for one day, it was so wonderful to see her again. Saturday zoomed by and we didn't really do anything other than spend time with each other. We talked a lot... I love talking with her. My flight on Sunday was at 2:00-ish, so I left her apartment at 10:30 to make it to Denver, return the car, get to the gate, etc. in time. I turned the car in at the ass-pirate rental car place for a shocking $123.00 for a Friday night to Sunday afternoon rental... at a discounted rate. Holiday price gouging should buy you a ticket straight to hell. The rental return is way off the airport, so I had to trolley back over to the terminal area. DIA's concourse and terminal layout is really whacky. I don't understand why they built it like this, but each concourse is separated by train and ALL concourse baggage claims are together at the terminal... also separated by train. So basically, you have to take a train everywhere. I checked in when I got to the terminal and found out I'd been bumped to a 4:35 flight. Guess what? It's about 12:30 and I don't board for almost four hours. Great. I could have spent this time with EL had I just called to confirm my flight. When I book flights online, I have a profile set up where flight changes and delays at the last minute are emailed to my cell phone. Since this was a last second purchase over the phone, none of that info made it to me. *Sigh* I stood on the upper level dialing EL to tell her the news as a little kids Christmas show was going on below.





If you remember me writing about how EL called my office in the middle of the night and left me voicemail so that I would find in the morning and me writing that I couldn't remember anyone ever doing something so thoughtful and sweet for me, then I have to say that is nothing compared to what she did for me yesterday. I called her and explained what happened with my flight schedule change and she drove to Denver to stay with me while I waited. I tried to tell her that it was too far and that it really wasn't necessary, but she still came. I can't say anyone has ever been so thoughtful or put any type of effort into being with me. I was speechless. It takes over an hour to get to the airport from her place, so I wandered around. I got a massage at this chair massage therapy place in the airport. OMG that hurt. The masseuse made comment that I must have a stressful job to be as knotted up as I was... if only they knew. I had some chips and salsa and beer at an airport pub. I wandered through shops and people watched. I pee'd... a lot. I must have the smallest bladder on Earth. I will say however, Denver International Airport has the best smelling men's rooms I've ever been in.





When she arrived, we walked around the airport shops a bit... there are not many places you can go since the concourses are closed to non-ticketed peops. We had coffee and watched some of the Broncos/Raiders game. Yes. I watched football on television. I hate football... but I like watching it with her. Go figure. There was a guy walking around the terminal area before she got there that was wearing a Broncos jersey... in jeans... tucked in... without a belt. I wanted to slap him, but that just wouldn't be right. She and I saw another munchkin dog in the airport. The owner said that it would never get bigger than 5 pounds when full grown. I am not certain, but I think my dog shits more than 5 pounds sometimes... well, maybe not that much, but damn that was a small dog. That dog was so fuckin' cute it was disgusting! If EL ever keeps me around long enough to get a pet together, it should be one of those little munchkin dogs. I think my cats are at least twice as big as that cute little puppy. You could put that dog in your pocket. Anyhoo, like always, my time with her went by way too fast and before I knew it, it was time to board. I felt myself missing her before we even parted. No sooner had we turned from each other and I had taken a step toward the security check point, an onslaught of rent-a-cops from the airport decided I might be carrying a milk jug of Ebola virus in my backpack and commenced my dissection. I didn't actually get strip searched, but I did have to take off quite a few clothing items, get frisked, have individual items (like shoes and such) re-run through the x-ray machine, have my bag thoroughly searched... twice... and get asked questions before I was allowed to continue. I'm glad I wasn't carrying my laptop. Who knows what they would have done to that... and, apparently, a lot of people forget them.





My flight back to Houston was uneventful and long. I thought of her and was happy and sad all at the same time. I gave up my seat so this young couple could sit together... which placed me between a bitchy old lady and a overweight guy that couldn't stop eating candy. I grew nauseous from the reek of chocolate bars and body odor. Smooth move on my part, eh? Anyhoo, when we got into Texas airspace, the plane started circling as the captain informed us that between fog and high traffic, Houston was going to be a little further away (chronologically speaking) than expected. Ah yes... my old friend... the holding pattern.





My plane arrived in Houston about 45 minutes late. Almost all the connecting flights had already left. I saw the looks of anxiety and disappointment on the faces around me of people not at their final destination and my heart went out to them because I know that feeling... I was almost there Friday night. I waited until everyone left the plane. I was the last one off. I wanted to make sure that I was not slowing anyone down on their way to wherever they were going. It was one of those moments where saying Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays would qualify you as an instant jackass. The cherry on top for these folks was our arrival into terminal D... the "international terminal". There are few domestic flights that end up at terminal D and it's a trek to connect to other domestic flights. By the time I made it home (after a small stop for cat food), I was exhausted and ready for bed. Discounting the struggle surrounding holiday travel, I had a great trip... and, like every time I get home from Colorado, I laid my head on the pillow with the same thought running through my head:

I miss you.