Beware of stupid people in large numbers

At last, the San Francisco recap post... assuming I can actually remember most of what happened.

Saturday, July 15th - Scott came over around noon, not long before our shuttle was supposed to have arrived. He was originally going to come over earlier, except his friend Brett got a job back down in San Diego, and since all of their other mutual friends were off partying, Scott decided to help him pack up, so he stayed the night in Burbank. It was weird for him to already be near the airport where WE needed to be, just to come 20 miles up north so he could take a shuttle BACK DOWN to Burbank, but oh well. :P

It was awkward at first, but the shuttle arrived soon enough and we were off. After wandering out the paltry selection of stores and restaurants (read: less than half of each) in the United/American Airlines terminal, we sat down and had some snacks, at which point it was silently "decided" that to hell with it, call us whatever you will, we are what we are and we feel the way we do, so screw it. So yes, I suppose we were acting like boyfriend and girlfriend, even if that "definition" hardly applied to us. He was very sweet and affectionate to me, and even though initially I was scared of that meaning I would have a harder time of saying goodbye to him when the time came (Peace Corps taking him to Central Asia, me going to Japan), I'm not stupid enough to deny affection and attention when it's offered and WANTED.

We managed to get to San Francisco just fine; the plane was horribly small and the drink selection terrible (Pepsi! EEEUCK!), but at least we made it on time. We took the BART (I got a little lost at the SFO station) to Daly City, and bought a 7-day passport at the airport for $24/each. Then we took the 28 to Fulton and met my mom at the house. :} We hung around for a while, got dressed, and then headed out to downtown, where we'd take another BART to West Oakland to go to the Fire Arts festival. Aside from the usual loonies hanging around at the BART station, there was no problem. We got off at our stop and, just as dad said, we knew immediately where to go-- right toward the pillar of fire.

*grin* The Fire Arts festival is something my dad raved about last year, hosted by The Crucible, a fire-arts school that focuses on things like metalwork, electric work, glass blowing, and the like. We had to work our way through a windy, twisty line, but at last we made it in -even though a group of snotty bitches cut us in line. I hate that! I really do! But anyway, we got in, met my dad at the bar, and then looked around. The first thing I noticed was DDR on a wide projection screen, so we headed over there-- and sure enough, they were doing something called "Dance Dance Immolation," a modified version of Stepmania with "fire" themes. The modes were renamed (Light was Burner, Standard was Raver, and Heavy became Asshole; the description of the latter was "Your arcade misses you") and the gauge became a danger thermometer-- you know, like you see on nuclear reactors, or on the modified DeLorean in Back to the Future part III?

We watched a few people in flame retardent suits attempt to DDR, but needless to say, they all sucked. No one seemed to know what DDR was or how to play it... so when the event coordinator walked around and asked for volunteers, I surprised myself by speaking up. I was wearing leather pants and a vinyl tube top and 3-4" Tommy Hilfiger leather boots, but I shimmied out of the tube top and into a red cotton sleeved shirt, and after much waiting and confusion about suit sizes, I was up there, an oxygen tube strapped to my back, a silver suit concealing my identity... and I DDRd while flames shot in my face.

I shit you not. FLAMES. IN MY FACE.

The guy I was playing with said he'd DDRd before, but we agreed to let each other pick songs. But they'd renamed all the submenus too, so I couldn't find the song I wanted, so I got stuck with Mobo*Moga or something for my first song. I aced it anyway. ;} I got Breakdown for the second song, and aced that, but by the third stage, I was so tired from the heaviness of the suit and my sore feet, I started to stumble while playing Butterfly. The guy controlling the game refused to let me do any speed or step modifiers, saying "This isn't DDR, this is Dance Dance IMMOLATION!" And immolation is right, because even though I still did okay on Butterfly, I got flames in my face plenty of times. It wasn't until the suit was off that I realized how grateful I was for the oxygen tube. I was sweating terribly but DAMN that felt good!

Not too many people can say they aced DDR while flames shot in their face. :D Boo yeah, baby.

( Read more... )

The conclusion I didn't include

This gets a whole new post due to the insanity of it all.
On the return flight back to Burbank (SFO -> BUR), I found out 5 minutes before we were due to arrive at the airport (approximately 1 hour before our flight was scheduled to take off, the recommended time to come in to deal with security and whatnot) that our flight had been cancelled. The automated message didn't say why. But we didn't turn around; being so close to the airport, we all just decided to find out what was what and see what we would be compensated with. The message DID say we had been rescheduled for a flight to Burbank the next morning, but that would mean schlepping all the way back to SFO and imposing on my mom-- plus unpacking, after we'd spent so much time PACKING!

So Scott, Mom, and I all got out while Gary guarded the car; Mom and I (more Mom, since she is not fun to deal with when you piss her off) talked to a customer service person. Mom went a little over the top, but in the end, Scott and I got our flight changed to one that was supposed to leave at 9:30 (instead of 7:15, our original flight). So it was a few extra hours at the airport, but SFO had lots of food and stores, so why not?

We noticed that on our new boarding passes, the original time for the flight (SFO -> LAX) was actually 8:07, and it had gotten rescheduled. But we thought nothing of it, so we went to get some food at the food court nearest our gate. As I went to the bathroom, I noticed there were no outbound flights to Los Angeles leaving at 9:30. There was one at 9:40, and after I checked with Scott, I confirmed the flight number-- our flight had been delayed by 10 minutes. No big deal, right?

We'd already hung out at the bookstore and I'd had a Noah's bagel from earlier; now after dinner, we just decided to head to the gate, about a half hour before our boarding time. But when we got there, the flight got rescheduled to 10:00. Then 10:20. Then 10:30. Then finally, 11:20. Initially, it was because of monsoon/thunderstorms over the middle of the state, which the airline refused to fly over. So why not fly over the ocean? We ended up doing that anyway. Then it was because they had no pilot, and even when we finally got a pilot, we didn't have enough flight attendants. Then the flight attendants came-- three more than we needed. We finally got underway, after five hours.

The plane was nice, and I even got some shut-eye, but when we got to LAX, there was more confusion. The rep from SFO had told us to tell a United Representative at LAX that we'd initially been scheduled for Burbank, and we had a shuttle waiting there for us. Since everyone from our flight had either been directed toward this flight or the one for the following morning, we wouldn't be alone; we'd all take the shuttle from LAX to BUR, and just take a shuttle from there, right? Wrong. 41 people from the rescheduled flight cancelled, so we had no way of getting any sort of upgrade or compensation. We basically waited HOURS for nothing.

On top of that, Burbank closed at midnight or so, so there was no point in having United shuttle us there if Super Shuttle wouldn't pick us up. So after standing in plenty of lines, schlepping our luggage around (I got a SmartKart for $3, but it made my life easier for a few hours), and talking to plenty of people, another United rep gave us a $51 voucher for the shuttle. We paid $31 for the shuttle from Burbank; from LAX it would have been slightly more, so the $51 *was* generous, but it hardly made up for all the waiting and the lack of information. Matter of fact, it almost didn't help at all, because Super Shuttle apparently didn't have enough shuttles (3 7-person vans -_-) to take us back to Northridge-- they were all going elsewhere, like to Glendale, Pasadena, and Anaheim. We had to do some juggling with Primetime Shuttle (the company I hate, because I feel unsafe with them), and we got to Northridge-- I even slept in the car, while Scott directed a driver who had NO idea where the hell he was with where to go.

And we got home... at 3:30am. It was still blazing hot though, so we slept with no blankets, the fan on full blast, and the air conditioning on. Neither of us got much sleep; Scott woke up around 9:30 or 10 to start getting ready to leave, and though I was still dead tired and even more overheated, I woke up with him, because I wanted to say goodbye and everything. And so it went, and we said "goodbye" or at least, "I'll see you later."

Scott seems to have made up his mind about the Peace Corps; he doesn't want to wait until next year to MAYBE get an Asian assignment, so he'll settle for whatever he gets in Central Asia, i.e. Kazakhstan or Azerbaijan. If I had to do the picking, I'd pick the latter, but... well, I just wish Scott wouldn't feel like he HAS to pick the Peace Corps because he got all those medical tests for it, did all that paperwork, etc. Yes, it looks great on your resume, and yes, it's longer, possibly more rewarding... but I just don't want him to be unreachable, or in danger because of wars in that area (very close to the Middle East).

He also has the option of getting something guaranteed IN JAPAN from the Oxford TEFL seminars, but who knows when and where that will pan out? I just hope he lets me know soon, and everything will somehow work out.

But needless to say, neither of us are flying United again if we can help it. I think I'll have to, for Japan, but I hope international flights are the exception. :P Still, I want to write a complaint letter. I also want to make sure my mom doesn't get charged for a shuttle we couldn't arrive on time to take, considering we weren't even at the right airport. :P

It gets a new entry because it's a new subject

Shamelessly leeched from atlantian_magic.

( Mememememememememe it's all about me! )

And I have determined that the best way to really filter out ideas, figure out where you want to go with things, or beta a story is really through continuous communication. I happen to like IM the best, but email works fairly well too. I've been doing it one way or the other for a long time-- back when I was a n00b in the Sailormoon fandom, and I had onee-chans to help me through my plotbunnies. I don't do it so much anymore, and I *miss* it! Come on, whatever happened to the idea of mega-chat rooms, lengthy chat sessions, ridiculous room names, and the excitement over hearing that alert that you've got a new message? And isn't summer supposed to be the time when everyone (in the northern hemisphere) is online, bored or at least clicking away because they have nothing better to do? Come oooon... somebody, anybody! ;_;