Fame is Fleeting, Part 1

And just like that, it's over. Our moment in the sun, our brief glimpse into the world filled with celebrities, cameras flashing, red carpets . . . it's all over.

Okay, please tell me that you know I'm being facetious. Please.

We did, however, just return from our quick trip to T-town; no, not Tinseltown. T-town as in TULSA. And when I say "quick," I really mean, well, not so much. Our flight was to depart at approximately 5:40 p.m. on Monday afternoon, and we flew out of Dallas' Love Field so our trek to the airport was a bit further than if we'd flown out of DFW. However, we were flying on Southwest so Love Field it was. Randy never managed to secure a ride to the airport which was fine by me because I was TOTALLY running behind and would have been even more stressed if I'd known I had an actual deadline I had to meet. As it was, we got away from the house in plenty of time and decided to simply park in the overnight lot (or long-term parking, I guess it was) for a sum of $10. Not as much as I was expecting, so that was a plus.

Since we were childless (more about the kids later), we thought we'd grab a nice dinner in Tulsa when we landed around 7:00 p.m. I hadn't eaten since before noon, however, so I got myself a nice cup of frozen no-sugar, no-fat vanilla/chocolate swirl yogurt--you just can't mess up frozen yogurt, even in an airport. Randy elected to tough it out and wait for the complimentary peanuts that Southwest would be offering. And we settled down to wait.

And wait. And wait. And . . . wait. Randy finally decided to get himself something to eat so he walked down to the McDonald's counter and got himself a couple of little chicken finger snack wraps and a couple of hot apple pies. Just a snack, you know, since we were going to be eating dinner and all. He got back to the gate, got himself situated, and proceeded to devour both snack wraps and one of the apple pies with gusto. I'm pretty sure he even smacked his lips. Darcy would have been insane. (That's a story for another time, however.)

After wadding up his trash and disposing of it properly (what, you think he was born in a barn?), he sat back down in time to hear this: "Ladies and Gentlemen, if you are flying to Tulsa this evening, there has been an aircraft change." Okay, so far so good. No mechanical difficulties, no bad weather . . . just an aircraft change. "You'll now be departing from Gate 11 at . . . " wait for it . . . "8:00. Folks, go grab yourselves some dinner. You've got plenty of time." Grrr.

We ended up at the airport's only true "restaurant" which was a Chili's To Go, where we were served by a waitress who clearly would have preferred to be on a beach in the South Pacific but instead was slinging hash at an airport in Dallas, Texas. Ouch. Randy valiantly downed another full meal (ha ha) and we headed back over to our gate, where we finally boarded the plane at 8:30, took off at 8:50, and touched down in Tulsa about an hour later. That's right--a romantic dinner for two at 10:00 in Tulsa suddenly didn't sound so appealing.

Due to my long-windedness (is that even a word??) I will conclude this little tale tomorrow. I do have a life, you know!

Oh, by the way, Happy Valentine's Day!