Time Management

Today I have learned a very valuable lesson about time management. That lesson pretty much revolves around how I am terrible with the way I figure my timing, and well, it makes it hard to manage. For instance, if I had not taken 4 bongloads before going to the airport in San Diego this morning, then I probably wouldn’t have been confused about where to check in, and instead of telling the lady at airbus that “yes, I know I have a flight” I would have taken the time to look at my itinerary, and noticed that airbus is not the same airline as US airways. Just because it has the word air? come on! We can’t just go assuming shit because that’s what I thought I was flying. So after ten minutes of arguing with this woman, and after a 3-5 minute apology, I went to US airways and tried to check in. 5 minutes too late, they had just closed the flight. But “you’ll be on standby going out of Phoenix”, so fuck it. I get on the plane. Girls gotta do what a girls gotta do. So now, I’m in Phoenix, and about two hours ago, I had hope, a small hope that I would be getting on the 2888 flight to Austin. Then I start talking to everyone at the gate and realize…..they are all hoping the same goddamn thing. Okay. I can handle this. I can deal with this, no problem. I have good luck. Just because things have not been going my way up to this point in the day doesn’t mean they can’t start now right? I’m number six in line, out of like 15 people on the list, and 6 ain’t a bad place to be right?

WRONG!!!! NOBODY GETS ON!!! The flight is 100% full, and ain’t no one going no where with no thing. And that’s the way that a lot of people just allowed their days to end. ME? I’m different. I am committed to getting to Austin, and I have commitments in Austin, and goddamnit I’m going to keep them. So while all these dudes are hassling these poor gate people (and not in that Carolyn poltergeist gate keeper way), I call good old Southwest and take the very last seat on a 3:45 flight to Austin Texas. The guy next to me hears that I’ve made new arrangements, tries to call, and nothing left. I got the last one. Then I see on the news they just pulled like 45 planes off the runways because they are worried or whatever about making it happen, meaning that the planes are questionable on the ground and even more questionable in the air. What the fuck ever, I’m getting to Texas if it kills me. I am signing at this bar tonight and Ron Jeremy was supposed to be there too, but no, he is in England, which isn’t even close to Texas, in fact it isn’t even on the same continent! I’m not quite sure how he confused his flights up this morning, but his mistake has to be more expensive then mine. I mean to accidently board a plane to England instead of your flight to Austin, which by the way has been purchased for you because you are supposed to sign at this thing tonight and its kind of a big deal, well, to the company that has you signing, and the bar that you are signing at, well, that is a much bigger mistake than I made by thinking that airbus and airways are the same thing.

So I don’t feel as bad about myself fucking up this morning, because at least I’m still in America, and at least I’m doing what I said I would do, even if it cuts my pay in half. I just couldn’t let them pick up the airline ticket since it was my fuck up. And it was my fuck up. I have been feeling incredibly accountable lately. Don’t know what it is, maybe being over a quarter of a century old is finally catching up with me. Maybe the fact that Justin Kane of Spunk’d is a good friend of mine, and I would never do anything to fuck him over helps.

Maybe I just like to get drunk and spend my days in random airports across the country.

Either way, I’m here, I’m queer, hahahha…no just kidding, I’m only part queer.

So I am trying to set up a vacation for all the girlies that do websites. My webman scott mentioned that we should start doing like gorilla war take-overs of certain party oriented areas, like Vegas pools, or beaches in Miami, and bring shirts and stickers, and cameras and just go out and have a great fucking time. I think that girls that are really down for their sites will be down to travel around the world and promote. I suppose its just a matter of finding the right girls right? I know Puma would be down, I bet Bree and Eva would be down, I even bet Courtney would be in. That right there, including my little self is 5 bitches. One more, and it would be a team. Three more and we would have a squad. And then we could do big content trades as we go along…..fucking eachothers brains out and anybody who comes in our way. First hit? I vote for Vegas. I think we should hit a bunch of different pools in Vegas and have a blast. Then maybe to Miami, and then in the colder months, we could do the warmer places, like Hawaii, Mexico, whatever and wherever we could all get it together. We could do four a year, maybe even one a month after we get in the groove of things. We….holy moly….hold on. Side thought.

I am sitting in this little Mexican restruaunt in the Phoenix airport, and there is this table of guys that had been cajoling, and harassing the sweet little waitress (who is obviously the only one here and incredibly overworked) and I tried to flag down a different lady, (who’s section I am probably just not in) and the guys saw me trying to flag her, mentioned something to one another in hushed voices. But as I said, I am here all afternoon folks. So I tried to flag down a girl maybe three times, and then said fuck it. She will get to me when she can. Well, the lady I was trying for never came, but this sweet little one did, and she apologized right off the bat for not getting to me quicker at which point I said “My plane doesn’t leave until 3:45, so you’ll probably be trying to get rid of me at some point”, and she laughed, pat me on my LA hat covered head, and said asked for my order. She looks like she needs a hug, or at least a good tip. So I will probably give her both, just because.

Anyway, the guys are on their way out, and one comes up to me and asks if I’m a “dancer”…..ummm…..how do you answer that? Yes, I was a dancer years ago, a ballerina, jazz, and tap dancer, but those days are gone. All that is left is the stripper. Is that what he is talking about? Does he know how many dicks I’ve sucked this month let alone how many times I’ve stripped out of these very same spandex pants…jokingly…this is as sexy as I get? WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF DANCER DOES HE MEAN? So I say no, and he laughs and says, “well you just have great legs, so I figured it had to be that!” and I laugh and say, “well, not in years my friend, but I hope you have a great day!”

I found myself speechless earlier as well when someone asked where I was going and why. “duhhhduhhh doh…….phoenix?” well fucking dug flame, you are on a plane headed to phoenix, so I hope you know that part. But WHY? “I never know why I go anywhere. I usually figure all that shit out after I come home.” Kinda like life.

I’m gonna eat my nacho’s and try to find someplace to recharge my batteries. This booze isn’t doing it, so I guess an electrical outlet will have to.


~ by Penny Flame on March 13, 2008.

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