To quote Lloyd Christmas, I hate goodbyes!

I don't know when the bf fell asleep but when I woke up about a half hour before our 3:30am alarm, I found the bf already up, unable to sleep. We decided to get an early start so perhaps we might sleep on the long flight back. We dressed, said out goodbyes to the dark and silent lake and dragged ourselves and luggage up to the car. One might have thought there was a live nuclear weapon in my duffle the way I was treating it. Am I allowed to joke like that? It's true though, it had all our glass and breakable gifts in it. We packed the old Mercedes up and drove back to Geneva. The city is a little confusing as all cities are with the construction, unparallel streets and one way roads. I almost forgot to get gas and did a really crazy, four-in-the-morning-up-the-wrong-way-street-u-turn of madness that actually got a honk out of what must have been the only other car in that city at that time of what I can only call night. I filled up, cause, you know, I'm an expert now. We were a little surprised by ourselves that we found the car return place solely by using signs. I had some confusion about what to do then. We rented from Auto Europe but the documents say Avis. I parked the car in an Avis spot and dumped the key into their drop box. I also left the registration and stuff in the glove. I have no clue what I am actually supposed to be doing. I got a wee charge on my credit card of $200 which tells me they found the car.......and possibly the scratches I put on the rearview mirror after hitting the construction sign....ahem. I'll call and find out more with that soon.

I was nervously singing which the bf informed me that it was far too early for that. I want The Smith's "I wanna go home, I don't want to stay...." Some people just don't appreciate the finer things in life I guess. We got to the terminal, checked in after a couple disagreements with the computer and ditched two of our bags, leaving me with my heavily guarded duffle and his backpack. I tried to find somewhere to get my tax return papers looked at but no booth was manned at that ungodly hour of the morning. We shuffled our way onto the plane and had no events to Frankfurt. Our bags were checked all the way through to San Francisco so we just had to find our connecting flight. I also found the tax return people and managed to get back about $60 on some of our big purchases. Yay! Made me feel like a big girl, taking care of stuff like that. Plus, I like free money. We saw we, once again were not sitting together. In fact, we were about thirty seats away from one another. I knew the flight was full and I remember the last time, they couldn't do anything to help, but I had time so I went to the counter and asked. The woman scratched her chin and said that would be very difficult. About a thousand key taps later she did it! We got on the plane, me guarding the duffle like it was the crown jewels. I eased the duffle into the overhead compartment then quickly padded it with the multiple jackets I was wearing to make it look too full for other bags. That worked too!

We were on a roll. But all good things must end and a man walked up, carrying not one, but two toddlers in either arm. He was bringing his adopted twins from Africa to their new home, eleven hours away in San Francisco. And he was doing it right next to us. These kids were on the last leg of their thirty hour journey and we got to spend it with them. I mean, all things considered, these kids were pretty good. The DAD was amazing. He was all alone, taking care of these two squirmy, confused, unhappy campers. Things were manageable for the first five hours but then those twins were DONE. No sleeping for anyone on that plane. The shrieks were loud and in unison. After that, the kids decided to mingle with the rest of the passengers to varying receptions.

Meanwhile, the bf had given me the aisle seat while he shushed his six foot seven frame between me and the window guy. He was alright with that scenario until the guy on front of him decided to play beat the guy behind you with your reclining seat. So, basically, all the usual fun stuff you experience on a long flight, or a flight of any time frame for that matter. It is just amplified on linger flights.

We landed and were cattle's through the motions. We must have showed that little form we filled out to ten different agents. It shows that we don't have any steaks or snails with us. By the time we got to the last dude, the bf was sleeping where he stood. I handed mine over to him but the bf could have sworn he had given it to the last guy. The smart ass TSA agent said something about him being the first in ten billion people to do that and to check his pockets. Sure enough, it was there. The bf, in his grogginess, said....sorry to ruin your day. Well, apparently you should NOT say that to an NSA agent. The guy grabbed him, pulled him back and searched him. He asked for his passport. He tried to give him a hard time but that must have been the extent of what he could legally do to the bf and he let him go.

We waited an eternity for our bags. I saw mine and reached for it but the man downstream from me would not budge to help so he got a face full of my suitcase as I hauled it up. Oh yeah...it all was going smoooooth. We went out the exit doors and easily found the airporter waiting area as we watched our bus drive away. This means that we will be waiting the maximum time for the next. The bf hooked the precious duffle around the handle of his bag and we sat down. I hear a CRRRACK!!! I turn my head and there, laying on the cement sidewalk is my yellow duffle bag laying, suffering under his fallen, too heavy bag. I was not happy. Not at all. I made a few how could you remarks then did a verbal assumption of which things I think must have broken. The bf checked. Nothing had broken. Everything was just fine. Phewwwwwww!

We suffered through traffic across the city knowing that our little pup was so close! Mom picked us up from the airporter. We looked out the window and saw her in the car, unloading the little guy. I was bursting. He was so happy to see us. He was smiling and his little corgi nub of a tail was wagging his whole body. It was wonderful. He was so soft and he smelled so good. I need my doggy fur huffs. I think I will go hug him now.