Day 222: Traveling back in Time...

Day 222 was a weird day because I had to travel for business. As in, get on a plane and travel for business. Do you remember the last time I traveled for business? I puked before boarding the plane. It was a completely awful morning.

But this particular morning panned out okay after all, even though this sweet face didn't want me to leave:

Anyhoo, this day wasn't super special, but I did travel to Raleigh, North Carolina for business. Why is this significant? I was born in Raleigh!! And I haven't been back since I left at 4 years old!

I had this sort of "knowing nostalgia" about the whole thing. I've always had an affinity for North Carolina, having that sort of salmon-returning-to-the-birthplace kind of thing. I dunno. It's strange to talk about, but I really enjoy the idea of Raleigh, even though upon return, it just seems like a bunch of strip malls and office parks, much like any semi-suburban, somewhat-urban city is.

I even actually drove by my preschool--La Petite Academy! How do I know that was it? I just knew...and then asked my parents who confirmed my suspicion.

And then I actually ate cheesecake at the Cheesecake Factory.

Not a bad business travel day after all!

Day 140...or is it 141? Tales from taking the Red-Eye

Because my boss is openly, self-proclaimedly as cheap as they come, he refused to let me stay one minute past my client billable time in San Diego. For me, this meant that the convention closed for the day on Wednesday, we went out for dinner, and then went promptly to the airport for my 10:30 PM flight back to Atlanta.

I had a 5-hour flight to Charlotte, combined with a 3 hour layover in Charlotte, and 35 minute flight back to Atlanta. I left SD and arrived in Atlanta at 9:30 AM, spending the whole night on a plane or in an airport.

This is called a red-eye, because all the people who get suckered into this cheap flight can't possibly sleep restfully on a plane (at least in coach), so they all come out with red eyes. I thought it was just a cultural term until I pulled into the Charlotte airport, went to the bathroom and noticed that my eyes were in fact as red as they could possibly be. I would have taken a picture but I have a little more self-respect than that.

But take my word for it that I looked JUST LIKE Natalie Portman in Black Swan:

On the flight, I was seated next to a couple who was clearly very "new," so they were kissing each other repeatedly and doing the whole high-pitched fake arguing thing...

Girl: "Why do you not like when I wear a pink hair tie??"
Boy: "Aw, babe you know I just think your hair is best complimented by a green hair tie."
Girl: "Babe, I just ran out of those, but I'll by them just. for. YOU!"
Boy: "You are the sweetest and cutest girlfriend EVER with your pink hair tie, I take it back!"
Girl: "AWWWWWW"

Leah: *moans audibly while perhaps saying something to the effect of shuttheeffupandtakeittothebathroomyoufreakycutefreaks*

Taking a red eye was pretty freaking awful, cute, cuddly couple excluded. I can't sleep on airplanes, no matter how many drugs I take. Thus, upon my return to Atlanta, I crawled into bed and slept from 11:00 AM to 5:30 PM, and again from 11:30 PM to 7:30 AM. That's 14 hours, if you're into counting.

I am STILL messed up from all of this. You'd think I'd get the day off today, and you'd be partially right. I'm technically in the office, but I'm jamming to Pandora, updating the blog, and catching up on gossip.

Does this all make sense? If not, just read the past couple of posts and try to put the pieces together for yourself.

Day 139: Party Like a (Hard) Rock Star

At the industry conference I attended during my time in San Diego, it's not all work and no play. Okay, it's like 99.9% work, but there ARE times we get to let loose a little. One such night was this night, where one of our clients held a party at the Hard Rock Cafe, San Diego.

This marks the first time I didn't automatically hate all things Hard Rock, and the first time I've partied at a Hard Rock.

See Hard Rock, to me, symbolizes everything that's wrong with the world. They set up camp in every country in the world, and Americans flock to them in droves to get a T-shirt from the Hard Rock Hong Kong, Hard Rock Brazil, etc.

Come.....ON.

Okay, brilliant marketing on their part, but scantily-clad servers sell second-rate, crap-tastic American food to crappy Americans who don't want to eat a single morsel of some other culture's years of food traditions is not my idea of a good business plan or restaurant. It's really just an excuse for the CEO to travel.

Despite all of that, I liked this Hard Rock because I got an exclusive wristband from the "cool" company who threw a party at the Hard Rock San Diego featuring a pretty good band playing AC/DC and Led Zepplin, and an open bar.

I'm a sucker for feeling exclusive and getting free beer.

Through the night, I jammed with the band, sipped a couple Blue Moon's and rocked out with old men in sports coats. It's fun seeing adults be adults and not bosses, parents, etc. I'm still tickled by it...and I am still refusing to be "technically" an adult myself. I'll never get used to this :)

Day 138: Business Travel, and Pre-Plane Puking

On Day 128, I "woke up" at 6:00 AM from having not really slept through the night from coughing and nerves. Upon waking, I started feeling NAUSEOUS, and I told Mark (who also didn't sleep through the night thanks to my coughing antics), that I was 100% sure I was going to throw up.

There was no reason for this AT ALL. Like, there's no way in hades that I'm pregnant, I had just two beers at Sunday Funday 12:00ish and nothing new and crazy in the diet. And plus, I NEVER get sick. I don't get motion sickness, I'm not allergic to anything, I never drink to the point of puking, I don't get stomach bugs (except once last year...but that was a crazy exception too), so I didn't really even know how to handle myself here. I still don't know why this happened.

I stayed curled in the fetal position for a while, went to take a shower and had to get out immediately after washing my hair to dry heave. I dried my hair while sitting on my towel on the floor, crawled to my room to get dressed, and just as Mark walked in the bathroom to fix his hair, I got "the surge."

You know "the surge." It's that wave of cold sweat that washes over you, the signature tingle in the back of your throat and the instinct to get as close as possible to a toilet or other appropriate vom receptacle.

The incident happened, and I made us officially 45 minutes late in heading to the AIRPORT. Yes, dear readers, I was up early because I was headed out to get on an airplane for an hour and a half to Washington/Dulles, and another five hours to San Diego.

Puking.

Puking BEFORE I got on a flying tube I couldn't escape from, complete with un-preventable turbulence, nasty gas and stale coffee smells.

I got on the first leg of my journey and asked the flight attendant for a couple air sick bags ("A couple??" "Yes, I've been sick this morning twice and want to be prepared!"), and my seat partner promptly moved herself. I couldn't blame her.

At the end of my journey? My company party at a SEAFOOD RESTAURANT.

I made it out alive, but just barely.

And that was the start of my first business trip to San Diego.