I had intended on writing this entry immediately following my return from the Idaho vacation I took two weeks ago. But since I still haven’t unpacked my suitcase from the trip, I still consider myself a new arrival.

My return flight was scheduled to leave Rexburg, Idaho (Don’t bother looking for it on a map, you’ll waste time.. and a map) at 8:30PM. But since we don’t live in a fantasy land, and there is no such thing as an “On Time” departure, we left the runway at 945PM.

I boarded the plane and found that I was assigned a fantastic seat adjacent to the world’s unhappiest infant. I luckily had my MacBook with me so I watched The Hangover. Although instead of hearing the audio that usually accompanies the film, I was forced to listen to a high-pitched screaming youngster the entire movie. It was almost like watching the movie with the Director’s Commentary enabled, but instead of insightful information from the director about the current scene, you get uninterpretable and relentless tones of panic.

The plane finally lands.

My favorite part of a flight is that moment when you’ve taxied to the gate and the flight attendant announces that it’s safe to turn on all cellular telephones. EVERYONE on that plane grabs the cell phone from their pocket, yanks it from a purse, tears it out of their carry-on and turns it on as quick as humanly possible. Staring expectantly; hands shaking nervously as if they may have missed a call from the president, ordering them to launch the GO-codes. (You got a text message from your mom. Congrats.)

I begin the trek to my car all the while thinking what an idiot I am for parking on level 5F. Pulling up to the long-term parking exit I see the sign with the parking rates. I try to do the math. I give up. I pull forward. After handing her my ticket that I miraculously held onto for an entire weekend, she calmly announces, “$50.”

I calculated the probability that they changed my oil, washed my car, and rotated my tires while I was gone, but quickly realized that McCarren Airport just hustled me. I grudgingly handed her the money with a sarcastic smile on my face and she returned, “I like you’re shirt.”

“It’s lavender.”