Thursday, March 17, 2011

Hand me a Wand and Call Me Hera

Once upon a crazy Friday afternoon...

The day couldn't get much worse, could, but I was trying to get the opening scene from Lost out of my mind as I mentally prepared myself to be airborne.  The last day of vacation is always stressful and full of mixed feelings.  You can't wait to get home and you don't want to leave; it's hard to explain.  Little did I know that I was about to endure a surprise maritime adventure of the Perfect Storm kind disguised as a ferry ride.  I'd not ridden a ferry since that one time in Venice when I missed my bus stop and didn't realize it until the bus climbed on a boat, but that's a story for another day.  I admit that at first it was exciting.  Then it was cold.  And then it was windy.  Wind + ferry = bad combination.  Here's the physics behind it: If it's windy and the water below you is acting like it's auditioning for Cirque Du SoleiI "La Mere," I guarantee your entire world is waddling in a pregnant Godzillalike fashion; that is, if Godzilla has had one too many.  I'd dare say that anyone not holding on for dear life could easily be blasted off from the Barferry; I'm talking Team Rocket style.  It's funny how when you look out towards the horizon, it looks perfectly still and it becomes obvious that it's the surface you're on that's completely out of control.  Having never done this before, I alternated between being inside and outside until it just didn't matter anymore.  It was interesting how the rest of the folks there were acting like they were on a quite ride; going about their day, reading their paper, playing on their phones...nothing to see here.  Moi, I finally found a somewhat comfortable position, closed my eyes, and hoped for the best.  I don't think I've ever wanted anything to stop moving so badly.  I spent the next hour looking like a drunk Starbucks mermaid who had obviously angered Poseidon, Neptune, and every other variation of the ocean god in existence.  All the whozits and whatzits under the sea weren't going to save me.  Yes, I was green and poorly caffeinated.  

Oh, how sweet the sight of land was.   I wanted to kiss the ground but it was dirty, so I didn't want to kiss it at all.  Following was an hour long drive.  Oh joy!  More movement.  This was followed by a hurried good bye and the realization that I had to wait for another hour before being presented with the task of surviving a two hour flight.  Alright, I'd made it this far; I could do this.  The airport was empty.  I guess not that many people fly out of a party city on a Friday.  There were probably about 8 people there including myself and a bored TSA crew of 7.  What to do?  What to do?  Read?  No way, my head was throbbing.  Eat?!  Play on my iPhone?  My phone was dead as a doornail.  Now you see, iPhone and I have a very special relationship, and when iPhone doesn't respond....well...I feel a little dead inside.  So I scouted the entire perimeter of the boarding area carefully until I found a place to hook up to the wall.  Minutes to my ears.  

A day prior, my friend  Tussi, pronouced 2C, had left me the following message on my Facebook wall, "Oye, when you come down to earth give me a call....please! Thank you, you may now resume to your cloud 9 activities!!!!"  Now was as good a time as any.  We chitchatted about what I'd been up to for a while, but  I knew she needed something.  I silently prayed that the gods of pyramid schemes would spare me, just this once.  I had endured enough for one day.  The mere thought of a PartyLite/Tupperware show made me feel arsonistic <--(Not a word.  Let's write is off as poetic justice.)  No, that was an irrational assumption; that's not Tussi's thing.  Help  on an art piece?  Maybe.  I wouldn't mind that.  And then, just like that, she popped the question.  Nooo...not that question.  "We talked it over with Joe and we think you're the best choice.  Will you be Dimitri's godmother?"  I can't really explain what happened next.  Just an array of feelings expressed in the form of a watery substance flowing down my cheeks.  These people, who I adore, were willing to trust me with the care of their most priced possession.  I didn't hesitate to reply.  These are friends who have been there for me time after time.  Dimitri is precious and I've loved him from way before he was born.  I was expecting him to call me Tia Ronnie one day anyway, but this is different; it has a sense of formality.   So I'm sorry if I made you read all of this for a simple announcement, but I wanted to remember this day as it was.  I'm going to be a godmother!