Day 1 – in which I drive

Saturday.

Following our stellar breakfast, we began our major “Go West, Young Man” thing.  I drove.  I like to drive, and I’m more comfortable (physically) in the driver’s seat than the passenger seat, so this is a good thing.  On most road trips, I do most of the driving, and Scott does all the working.  It’s a good combo for us.  = )

The plan was for Scott to use his new ACME whatever-the-thing-is-called that would let him be online on the road; thus he could work.  It turns out that there had been  two reasons to go to the AT&T store.  One was to get the ACME item so he could work the two Saturdays we’d be driving – and it only cost him $1.06 out of pocket!  The other was to get a different SIM card in my phone.  No, I didn’t want or need a new SIM card, but I had evidently acquired one.

Just before leaving the hotel, I had endeavored to send a text to a friend who has been going through some really difficult situations.  I typed the text into my phone and went to my contacts list to send it to her.  My contacts list was blank.  Totally blank.  It even said, “Blank” at the top.  Refusing to panic, I tried to make a phone call, thinking that maybe it had something to do with texts and it would work for calls.  No dice.  There were no contacts.  Not even one.  ALL 220 of my contacts were gone.  The only phone number I even had memorized was Scott’s!  what was I going to do?!?  My phone is my essential tool for communication, and now I had NO ONE’S phone number.

I stayed calm.  The guys loaded us up in 25 degree weather with 25 mph winds.  We all got in.  We drove away.  Once on the freeway, I calmly told Scott about my loss of contacts.  I told him I was okay with him putting a new SIM card in my phone, but I was not okay with losing all my contacts.  I told him that when we got to Georgetown, I would be willing to re-enter my contacts (a few months ago, when there was talk about changing phone providers and my getting a different phone, I had created an Excel list of my names and numbers), but I was emphatically NOT willing to enter them unless I could be guaranteed that they would stay on the card.

Scott listened carefully to my monologue.  Then he apologized for not confirming that the guy at the AT&T store had transferred my contacts to the new phone.  He also explained why he had gotten the new card.  It seems that he could get a discount on the ACME item if he signed us up for some family contract deal, and since my phone, which is a couple years old, had a Cingular SIM card, and AT&T bought Cingular, the Cingular card had to be replaced with an AT&T card in order for us to be on this AT&T plan. . . even though we’ve been with AT&T all along.

I did eventually calm down, and Scott spent quite a bit of time on the phone and on the internet with AT&T, trying to get my contacts back, or at least get some compensation for their loss.  No success.  I steeled myself to spend a couple hours of my precious alone time (that I already had other designs on) re-entering contacts.  Sigh.

We drove through a lot of blowing snow, but there was only an inch or so on the ground.  We made a lot of bathroom stops for me, and we eventually ended up at the Denver airport, of which I heartily approve.  It’s huge, but the approaches and parking are extremely well-organized.  Our windshield was virtually iced over and very hard to see out of, and the washer fluid had frozen in its reservoir, so Scott took over the driving.  = )  He parked us in a parking deck (ahhh!) only a few covered steps from the elevator that took us right to baggage claim 7, where we expected to claim our #1 son.

There’s just something about a mom in an airport waiting for her child.  It’s a sense of eager anticipation; that on-your-tiptoes, craning-your-neck, can’t-wait-to-see-your-kid feeling that never wanes, no matter how many times you do the airport waiting thing.  I finally spotted our Llama across the way, striding toward us, and I walked joyfully toward him to give him a hug.  But he greeted me with this salutation:  “Touch me not, for I have not yet overcome this dreaded disease.”  The guy was sick – fever, headache, body aches, cough, and suspected bronchitis.  Lovely.  Not.

We waited about 30 minutes for his bag, then ate at Fazoli’s and drove to our little cottage in Georgetown, arriving about 10 PM.

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