Well, I survived the packed security points and senile Florida drivers and have arrived at my hotel in West Palm Beach. First impressions were, in this order: Man, Florida is F-L-A-T,  Wow, it is really nice and warm outside, and Maybe I should have indulged in the extra rental car insurance as I’ve seen some pretty clueless drivers even before I left the airport.

My trip began at 2:30 am this morning.  I drove the long haul to Nashville airport in record time, just a little over two hours thanks to the almost non-existent traffic between home and I-24.  But I was surprised to see a PACKED airport at 4:00 am in the morning until I overheard that college students were preparing for their Spring Break vacations to Barbados, Cancun and such places.  Bastards.  What I would do be in college again.  As I walked into the Nashville airport, my memories flickered of standing in this very lobby gathering with my college peers about to embark on a study abroad trip to Ireland.  How different my life is 12 years later.

The flights were long and the layover in Dallas was even longer.  However, it did give me the opportunity to enjoy a lovely hobby that I’ve been missing the last four years: reading.  Running back and forth to Vanderbilt for doctor appointments and a full-time job doesn’t leave much time for reading.  And, by the time Drew goes to bed I either, a) go to bed very soon after from the pure exhaustion of trampoline antics or b) have to catch up on all my recorded shows that I miss while watching Power Rangers and Mike the Knight.  I got through half of my book during my travels down here.

I arrived in Dallas about 9 am this morning and prepared myself for a three-hour layover.  I think I texted everybody I knew in a desperate attempt to break the monotony.  I was extremely jealous of a couple of guys who brought along cots to the gate and were fast asleep stretched out while I shifted endlessly in the gate chairs trying to avoid the dagger-like chair arm in my back.  Those chairs show no mercy.  I was pleased to be entertained by a couple sitting across the aisle from me who had evidentially just met each other in a bar somewhere in the airport only to discover they were on the same flight coincidentally.  They shared headphones and each consistently had a glass of wine at their fingertips during the trip and were dancing together like hot teenagers in a club.  They were 40+.

The hotel is just a hotel.  I was much disappointed to find there wasn’t a restaurant in the lobby so I decided to take advantage of my “20% guest discount at Applebee’s” card by driving the four minutes down the road for a drink.  The bartender asked, “I make the most kickass margaritas, we have 2 for one drafts and {something, something, something}” and I said, “You had me a margaritas.”  Well, she was right.  I was only sad to only enjoy one.  I even took a picture of it a la a fellow food blogger I know, but since I am using the lobby’s 1984 computer in the lobby instead of the MAC I lugged around all day, I can’t share it with you to monumentize the best Margarita ever.  But I did learn that the bartender’s family happened to be from the Paducah area! Huh, small world!

Well, I’m staring at a sign above the lobby computer that says “Limit 15 minutes” and it’s going on over 20 I think, I better return to my room and relax while I can.  More to report tomorrow.