Okay, do you remember what I said at the end of yesterday's entry? That I more or less have used up all of my bad luck for the weekend and that everything should be crimson and clover until Monday?

I don't know if I have ever been wronger about anything just as long as I ever have lived.

I get off the plane in Chicago, wander over to the departure TVs and looked to see what my gate was for the plane to Traverse City, found it, scanned across, and there I saw that it was at gate G18. O, and that the plane was canceled.

"What the fuck do you mean, canceled?" I believe that I said out loud. I noticed that there was another flight, but it was at 4p "I don' wanna hang around fucking O'Hare for another three hours!" I should have been so lucky.

So, not really knowing what else to do, I went to the gate and found a line, after getting impatient with several other lines, that was the one taking care of the poor stranded souls.

"How can I get to Traverse City?"
"Well, you can rent a car and American will re-imburse you, or we can put you up in a hotel and send you out in the first flight in the morning."
"There are no flights tonight?"
"Sorry all booked solid."
"Okay, I'll drive."

I was a little nervous about driving across a couple of states when I cannot even drive four blocks around my apartment without getting hideously lost, but there you are, I didn't want to miss Friday night!

She gave me the papers that I needed and a $10 meal voucher and sent me off to baggage claim to get my suitcase. I turned the corner and there was Robert!

"Were you on the flight, too?"
"Yeah, they're giving us hotels and cars and I'm driving. Come with me so that I don't have to go alone?"
"How long does it take?"
A guy in front of us turned around, "Around 6 hours."
(gulp) "Come and share the driving! Go around the corner and get your meal voucher, then meet me at Baggage Claim 10!"

Down at Baggage Claim 10, it took awhile to get my bag, as there was one counter person and twenty people needing bags, but I finally got it and left it with Robert and went to the Hertz counter.

"I have $150 to spent on a car."
"Sorry, ours start at $198."

Guess that's why there was no line! So I went to Avis, because it was the most crowded, deciding that that meant that it was much cheaper, and I was right, and we got just the cutest little red Sunfire that you ever did see.

And we were on the road!

I had stuffed a couple of cds into my bag, but not nearly enough, as I thought that I had four, but one was in my computer and one was just the empty case, so all we had for the whole drive was the Broadway soundtrack of Tommy and Fatboy Slim's You've Come a long Way Baby, not nearly enough for a six hours drive. But it would have to do. I played Tommy first, singing along to every song, trying to explain the plot to Robert.

"Okay, so there's this deaf dumb and blind boy, see, but he sure plays a mean pinball..."

The drive through Chicago made me realize that it was probably pretty unlikely that we would get there in six hours, because that took about two and a half hours. Slow slow slow, stop and go, it was a nightmare. I was driving, Robert was the official mapreader and navigator, though I was the one who chose the route ahead of time, 94 and 90 to 31 all the way up. Damn Lake Michigan for being in the way.

I realized, as we were driving along, had I not managed to run into Robert, I would have gotten lost lost lost, as I really couldn't have read that bitty map and driven at the same time. I would have ended up in Wyoming or something. My regular readers will know that that is not any kind of an exaggeration.

We did miss one turnoff, and had to turn back along the clear clear side of the road and head back into the hideous traffic jam again. Robert practically began to cry.

"No! Noooo! I do not want to go through that traffic again!"
"It's just for a very little minute, and then we turn off and that goes like the wind, like the wind, I tell you!"

And it did. It was much better. I played Fatboy Slim then, and Robert hated it almost more than he could bear. It was actually kind of cute, like playing the album for my mother or something.

Our roles in the car were established very early. I was the goofy cheerful optimist, all bouncy and happy and carolling on about what an adventure this was, and Robert was the annoyed pessimist grumping along about how everything was ruined. A perfect yin/yang balance.

"This is fun!"
"It is not fun, it is dreadful! And stop laughing at me!"
"Look, it's so hard to get there that when we do, we'll have earned being there, it's like a real accomplishment!"
"I'm accomplished enough. My God, we're not going to be there until midnight, everything is all dust and ashes! O woe!" (okay, I'm embellishing that last part.)
"You're so funny, like a bird with your feathers all ruffled. You are fluffy with fury!"

We stopped at a rest stop after a hundred miles or so. Somewhere in Indiana. When we saw the signs, Robert insisted, "I am not going to Indiana!" but apparently, that's the way to Michigan. Go figure.

I unfolded myself from the car, creaking all the way. I had no idea that I was so stiff. And my feet hurt like hell. I now understand the attraction of cruise control. We went into the gas station store and got a complete array of travel snacks, as traveling without Doritos and Ho-Hos and Pepsi is just, well, it's just plain un-American!

"Hey, look, there are cds! Maybe we can get something to embellish the collection! Okay, they have Bachman Turner Overdrive, Samantha Fox's Greatest Hits, Taylor Daine..."
"Have we gone back in time?"

We did not buy any new cds. In the car, we turned on the radio. Which end up being really fun, because as the radio stations faded out and we had to switch the stations, we got a real feeling of movement, like we were actually getting closer to our goal.

We listened to this fabulous show by this woman named Delilah, where really pathetic people who need a boot in the ass call up and whine about whatever is wrong in their love-lives and then she plays a really sappy song for them in a truly supportive and non- judgemental fashion. She's like the anti-Dr. Laura.

There was Sonny, the guy who dated a woman for nine years, who then broke their engagement to marry a rich man instead, and it's been five years and he still isn't over it. I am yelling at the radio that he's a moron for wasting fourteen years on this woman (though he clearly is no prize in a box of cereal himself), but Delilah is nurturing and kind and played him a gooshy Lite Hit.

Then there was the woman who wanted to dedicate a song to her boyfriend of five years, who had a child with another woman three years before, and the other woman is always included in his family gatherings, which annoyed her to all get out. O yeah, and she was 21 years old and had a six year old child. Delilah suggested that she become friends with the other woman, as, if he was going to be a man and take responsibility for his child, she wasn't going anywhere.

It was the greatest show ever. And it certainly kept me awake.

I haven't mentioned the weather yet, have I?

O the weather, the weather. The weather refused to stay the same for five minutes at a time, at least, after it got dark it wouldn't. It was either clear, sprinkling, raining, pouring, sleeting, or, get this, snowing, in any combination. I was constantly re-arranging the way that the windshield wipers were wiping, fast or slow or interrupted or off.

The snow was bizarre, though. I have never driven in it before, and what it does is it comes right at you and it's remarkably disorienting. I told Robert that it was like in Star Wars and they are coming out of lightspeed. He understood exactly what I meant.

But it was just so awful sometimes, trying to see the lines, trying to pass the slowpokes ("What is wrong with this guy, going only 60?" "Is he in a funeral procession?") trying not to get below 80, trying to get there before midnight.

We stopped twice more to unfold and stretch and pee and buy a better map than the Avis one that we got for free. We never switched places, I was fairly comfortable driving, Robert really didn't want to, and if he were driving and I were reading the map, that was just a disaster waiting to happen.

The first time that we saw Traverse City on a sign, saying how many miles, we both screamed with delight, and it exactly corresponded with our changing the channel from Delilah to a classic rock station the was playing "Paradise By the Dashboard Light", so I was belting out with all of the joy in my heart "Ain't no doubt about it, we were doubly blessed, 'cause we were barely seventeen and we were barely dressed!" which is certainly a great song to be express your joy through.

Seeing the sign for Interlochen was even better, and then, at 11p, when we finally drove onto campus, eight and a half hours from when we started, I stopped and stared at everything for a moment before parking, and when we were walking to the student centre to check in, I threw my arms into the air and yelled out, "Wake up everyone, we're here!"

And I was right, it wouldn't have been anything like as exciting, as triumphant had we just gotten onto a plane and then got picked up from the airport in a van.

This was special. This was our reunion. We had come home.

Today's horoscope:
A pioneering spirit prevails and you try new activities. Risk a little in your playtime pursuits. Be open to alternatives.

One year ago today:
He really is quite good at it, but I think that this just may represent a new low in the American musical.

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