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The very fact I made it to NC is a bloody miracle.

Kim's trip to NC:

12:30 a.m.--Decide to wash down the front of cabinets for some unknown reason. Packing is pretty much through. Blender, fondue pot, CD player, candle, soap, clothes and makeup are all packed.

1:00--Got to bed

4:30--Jay comes to our bed

5:40--Awakened by Jay's hand smacking me in face. Can't go back to sleep.

7:00--everyone up and eating, except Jay.

9:00--drag, push and pull everyone to the van. Jay still hasn't eaten.

9:20--finally begin driving toward the airport. Everyone in the car is in a foul, foul mood. W. decides he needs to go to bank. I expect him to give me some cash when he finishes. He doesn't.

9:40--On the road. W. and I have a heated discussion over my taking the cell phone to NC. He is bitter and bitchy. I decide to leave it there.

10:00--the children are in rare form. At least one child shouts every 5 minutes. Jay tangles his foot in the seat balt strap, choking Five and causing a huge hullabaloo.

10:20--Finally arrive at the airport. I jump out with my incredibly heavy suitcase and go to pull out the retractable handle. It doesn't have a handle. I had the wrong damn suitcase. It has, instead of the handy retractable handle, 4 tiny, ineffective wheels. Even I am too tall to use the wheels, so I have to hunch over to drag it to the check in line. I tell the kids bye and Sam promptly bursts into tears. I feel like dirt.

10:24--W. pulls away from the curbside drop off and I watch as he drives to the end of the check in area and then pulls over and goes toe rear of the van to get one of the Diet Dr. Peppers that have been there since May. As I am watching, I hear the lady next to me ask everyone if they have their ID ready.

10:25--I realize I have left my purse in the van. I ask the lady in front of me to watch my suitcase (as if anyone could have made a quick getaway with it) and I begin to yell for W. as I trot to the end of the walk. People are staring. Probably laughing, too. I am not made for running and neither were my shoes. After the third time, he hears me calling and looks at me as if I am insane. Then, he goes to the front of the van. I fear he is leaving, but he comes back out with my purse. We trade off quickly and I run back before he has time to tell me what a dumbass I am.

10:26-- I am back in line, attempting to regain my composure while sweating profusely.

10:30--After 15 minutes of sheer eye agony, I give up the fight and take my contacts out while standing in line.

10:40--I finally make it to the curbside check-in with my two-ton suitcase and the skycap admits me to the airport after I lie blatantly about never lettting my suitcase out of my sight. I have over an hour by the time I reach my gate.

10:50--I get to the newstand and buy a paper and a candy bar--I am in desperate need of chocolate. I have a grand total of $2.50 in my pockets to get me through my trip. I cuss my husband again.

10:55--I decide to go to the bathroom before waiting at the gate. I am pleasantly surprised to see that there is not a line, so I go into the first available stall. I see instantly why it was available. It has overflowed and there is water everywhere. I am treated to a first hand view of the reason why the toilet overflowed. I make my way down the line---4 stalls on each side of the flooded unit are covered in water. The sixth one down is relatively clear. A huge mat of toilet paper is down in front of the toilet. I find a place to put my paper and my purse and my backpack and put down the seat cover. When I sit, I realize that my shoes are inappropriate for flooded public stalls--they are backless. I have to be super careful to keep my feet lined up in the shoes.When I leave the stall and gather up all of my things, I realize I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe. I do a little scrape and dance move and get the paper off and manage to drop my ticket folder on the floor. It is relatively dry, thank God. I wrap it in a paper towel until I can get the actual ticket out and then trash the whole mess. As I leave the bathroom, I check 3 times to make sure I didn't throw away the ticket.

11:00--I plant myself at the gate and await the Southwest cattle call to board.

11:55--on the plane and on my way to NC. An uneventful flight--I attempt the USA Today crossword puzzle and feel like a moron since I can only get about 5 answers. The only one I am sure of relates to Alan Alda being Hawkeye. I try to reassure myself that the puzzle is really hard--like those NY Times ones. I give up and go to sleep.

2:20 (Eastern time)--touch down. I am in Raleigh I make my way to the bathroom and try to do something to my hair and face. I manage to get my contacts in and then realize I don't have a hairbrush in my carry on. Great. I do the best I can and then make my way to baggage claim.

2:30--the luggage begins making its way on the carousel. I realize I am not exactly sure what my big as suitcase looks like. I reassure myself that the red ribbon in it will help me ID it.

2:32--realize that everyone on the flight has a black bag with a red ribbon tied on it. Make a mental note to change to yellow or purple.

2:33--the biggest suitcase in North Carolina comes down the way and I realize it is mine. It has gotten heavier since Nashville.

2:35--I make one final check in the baggage aread for Traci and then head out to the street, thankful that she told me what type of car she drives.

2:37--I realize I could call her and tell her I was there, then realize dumbass has my phone and I have $2.50 to my name. Cuss W. again.

2:40--see Traci's car and head to it....prepare to walk to the curb and realize that I am about to get into the car of a 40-something strange man. His wife gives me a strange look. I try to look as if I am searching for someone across the road. The trunk I am lugging makes it difficult to be nonchalant.

2:42--drag the suitcase to a bench and cuss W. again just for good measure. Remind self that black clothes are a bad choice for NC in late June.

2:45--decide to move to curb to better spot Traci because she might not recognize me since I have lost 12 pounds and all.

2:46--realize the absurdity of that delusion and the even more absurd idea to stand in the sun in a black shirt in Raleigh in June as a thunderstorm brews and jacks the humidity up to jungle-like levels.

2:50--spot a lovely white Blazer with a darling brunette at the wheel. Double check for reciprocal recognition--the weight doesn't throw her--I lug the mammoth case to the rear of her vehicle and together we wrestle it to the back of her car. I am impressed that she has no soft drinks or Christmas presents that need to be returned or old clothes in the back. We load up in the car and begin to ride to her house. Traci mentions that she had tried to call me and tell me she was having to circle the airport...I cuss W. again as I explain to her why I didn't have the cell phone I told her I would. We ride to her house and get ready for the coolest weekend ever.