Weekend O' Woes Part I

Well, I guess it's about time for me to post something. The thing is, I just had one of the weirdest, busiest weeks ever and I was dreading posting because it's almost TOO much to write about without making everyone bored. I'll try to keep it snappy.

You see, my fiance's Ian's brother (14 months younger so they're very close) is also getting married. To protect the innocent, let's call his brother "Ernest" and his fiance "Lisa." They got "officially" engaged about two weeks ahead of us. And my fiance's mom, sister, and even him all kinda hate Lisa. So here I was thinking, "gee, what a bunch of overly dramatic mean in-laws, he wants to marry the girl, what's the problem? She couldn't possibly be THAT bad. Give a girl a break." This weekend, I got the answer to that question.

Flash forward a couple of months. Ian and I are well into wedding planning territory, and they have not yet set a date. Last week, Ian informed me that Ernest and Lisa were having an engagement party in Los Angeles (where they live) and that they had all but DEMANDED our presence at this affiar. Since I am taking off copious amounts of time for surgery and a honeymoon in the spring, I declined my option to take time without pay to go to LA for two days to attend an engagement party, which is not really a valid social affair in the middle-class circles in which I run. Ian dutifully purchased his ticket for Friday through Sunday, grumpy that I wouldn't go. Two days later, between his pouting and his mom's wheedling, I buckled and was booked on a separate flight, Saturday morning at the un-bunnying-godly hour of 6:20 a.m.

On Friday, I awoke 4 to haul Ian to the airport on Friday. However, we were still running late because Ian has some sort of brain damage that makes him the most forgetful person alive. This is a short list of things he's lost in the last two weeks:

ipod (found)
digital camera (probably gone forever)
bank card (he already canceled and re-ordered
driver's license (it was in his pocket)
credit card 1 (still lost, he is cancelling and
re-ordering)
credit card 2 (found it after he re-ordered and cancelling
it)
scooter keys (we have three sets--he lost all
three)
his house keys (found in his pants)

*You might think from all of this that he lost his whole wallet, or his entire keyring, or had a packpack stolen, but he lost all these things as individual items, because he doesn't believe in keeping all his keys on one keyring or everything in his wallet. He says it's too bulky and tacky-looking.

So, we were running late because he couldn't find his license, ipod or camera. After finding said license (in pocket) and cutting his losses on the ipod and camera, he dropped me off at work and couldn't find his wallet. I pretty much wanted to murder him by the time he left and figured if he never came back it would be fine with me.

After working a full day, I headed to the bar with Shanshu to enjoy a few well-deserved drinks. We adjourned to his apartment where I was sorely disappointed. Instead of Chinese takeout and tattoo group bunny with the ravishing Jen and her drunk co-bridesmaid, we instead talked about our shared latex allergy and endured said co-bridesmaid's rancid beer farts, much to Jen's chagrin. Dismayed, drunk, and more than a little exhuasted, I staged my exit and headed home to sleep alone and lonely. Checking that my suitcase was prepared for the next morning, I happened to glance at the printout of the electronic ticket that my dear, beloved sweetie had purchased online for me.

Departure Time: 6:20 PM. P.M. Post-Meridian. As in, AT NIGHT. As in, he bought the mother-bunnying ticket for the wrong bunnying time of day. The party was Saturday night at 7:30 so my arrival at 9:30 p.m. would kind of make the whole trip a moot point. (the only funny "Friends dialogue ever was Joey saying "yeah, a "moo" point. You know, like a cow's opinion--it doesn't matter?" But I digress.) This isn't actually the first time he's done this. On our way back from Santa Fe, he purchased two tickets for what he thought was evening that were really for the morning the next day. He is now banned from online ticket shopping without me to proof the preview ticket, because, as we've been joking, he might get honeymoon tickets for May of 2007!

In a panic, I call Ian, oh, about 5 million times, but can't reach him. Needless to say, I didn't sleep well and awoke at 2:30 in a panicked cold sweat worrying about my ticket. I tried to call Southwest and change it myself, but I didn't have the card Ian bought it with, and I couldn't pay the (hefty and substantial) difference in the ticket prices to pay the fee to change it on my card. I called Ian another million times before I had a brain wave. I called Information and found Ernest's listed home phone number, and left a voice message. Halfway through my message, they picked up the phone! Half asleep, Ian forked over his Amex number, I changed my reservation, packed, parked in the Economy Lot, got the full booby pat-down by security guard (I always do on planes--I guess my DD's make them think I have sticks of TNT in there or something. . .) and I was on my way.

The fun had only half started.