Disney World, here I come!!!

The baking was relatively simple, though it’s not easy using my 1950′s era egg beater thingy (no, we don’t have an electric one), and not having cupcake liner thingies made removing the baked cupcakes a challenge, but I powered through.

Then on to the icing.

30 minutes later, here’s the result. My hands are died red and cramped up so bad that it hurts to type this. And for what? Cupcakes that look like they were decorated by a blind five year old with the shakes.

Next time I’m sticking to cash and a card I made myself using printer paper and a ball point pen reading, “Happy birthday.”

(Hank once said he’d go to Disney World with me, though that was back when we first started dating and he was probably just trying to impress me. Maybe if I get him to read this book, he’ll come next time?)

Anyway, on to the point of this post: while reading the chapter on how to save money at Disney World, after the author recommends Southwest as the hands-down best airline ever (damn straight), he points out that you can buy Southwest drink vouchers on eBay for ass-cheap.

Why was I not aware of this?!?!

Combining both my shopping/eBay addition and DRINKING!??! BRILLIANT!

I’m currently the high bidder on four different auctions.

Awhile ago I discovered the wonders of Amazon Prime. Oh yes, you may be aware of their free 2-day shipping. But did you also know that Prime members can enjoy such perks as free streaming movies and TV? And that Amazon Prime Kindle owners can download free books as well as share books with one another for free? Amazing! Amazoning? Maybe!

However, I balked slightly at the $80 annual fee. That’s when I saw the fine print that an Amazon Prime account covers up to three additional members of your household. I’m part of My Mother’s household! Sort of! Not really! Whatever!

So I log into My Mother’s Amazon account (we’re a very trusting household), and signed myself up to be part of her Prime account. Sweetness.

I then went on with my life, woke up each morning, went to bed each night, didn’t really feel like a changed human being, but I was doing alright.

That is, until yesterday when I went to take advantage of this Primetasticness to download some free eBooks.

That’s when I read new fine print: Prime “guests” aren’t allowed to download books. Or stream movies. Or borrow from the Prime library. I only get my free two-day shipping, and I’m supposed to be happy about it.

Bitches.

So now we’re back to the starting point: do I pay the $80 annual fee to enjoy these luxuries or no? I think the simple answer to this question involves some math. Let’s take a quick gander on over to Amazon.com to see whether or not the books I’d like to read are free for Prime members or not.

John Grisham’s The Litigators: $12.99

Stephen King’s 11/22/63: $14.99

The Help: $9.99

Project Future: The Inside Story Behind the Creation of Disney World: Free for Prime members, otherwise $9.99.

That could settle it.

It would be nice, though, if I could use it for what I intended.

Let’s look back at the scene at Best Buy last week:

Me: “I want a personal computer, but I’m going to want to throw in a KVM switch so that I can use my work laptop on the same monitor/keyboard/mouse.”

Sales Dude: “Well, the model you’re looking at has a DVA port, so you’re fine. All you need is a DVA cable. But hey, don’t get this computer — I can get you the next bestest one for half the price.”

Me: “Sold.”

Sales Dude 20 minutes later after convincing me to spend over $200 on Microsoft licenses, antivirus, and warranties: “Hey, did you also want to buy a DVA cable?”

Me: “No, I have one.”

Sales Dude: “Cool.”

Purchase made.

Fast forward to right now: there’s no VGA port on the next bestest model. Only USBs.

According to my research, a DVA to USB converter will run me about $50.

Where was that in the sales pitch, bro?

My winning sales pitch was that I found a round trip flight for free on Southwest that would have him landing back here in time to visit an old friend who will be in town that weekend. (I don’t need to use my free flight because I’m using My Grandfather’s miles to fly first class, naturally. And I’ll like it.)

So I hop on over to Southwest.com, which ought to be my homepage by now. I enter in Hank’s information, my credit card (damn $7.50 fee), and submit.

Purchase error.

Seriously? This is now the third time in a row that I’ve tried to purchase or change something on Southwest.com and have gotten an error. I’ve even tried using the app on my phone, and I get the error there as well.

The first time was two weeks ago while I was at the airport, so I had to get up out of my comfy chair and speak to a human. And the last two times, I’ve had to call and speak to a human. What is up with this, Southwest? If I wanted to be social, I’d wear less pajamas and stop having as many in-depth conversations with my cats.

Then again, maybe if I didn’t have the need to buy or change plane tickets three times in the span of two weeks, this wouldn’t be that big of a deal. (And that’s actually not including the US Airways debacle last week).

It’s all good though; this week’s air travel will be for pleasure! DISNEY WORLD, HERE I COME!!!!!!!!!

Luckily Michigan drivers like to ignore the speed limit, so I hauled ass with everyone else and arrived at Enterprise at 9:55. I could do this.

Arrived at check-in at 10:10. We can still do this.

Mind you, they wouldn’t place me on that flight, as it was already boarding, but I had every intention of sprinting straight to that gate. I thus ignored the details of the 11:40 flight they did book me on (for the bullshit fee of $50).

I’m trying to rush through security, but my blazer and liquids fell from one bin on top of my laptop in the other, thus requiring a rescreen.

Oh wait, that’s how we travelled before computers – by actually getting through security without strip searches and hair pat downs.

I got to the gate at 10:20. (Mind you, as it wasn’t a direct flight, the only reason I knew what gate it was and what city it went to was thanks to my phone).

Completely full.

I sighed. Sat down, was about to get comfortable and read but first decided to text Hank my new itinerary.

That’s when I actually looked at the 11:40 flight…

Landing in Raleigh at 8:00?!?! What kind of fuckery is this?

Out comes the phone again. Hello, 11:50 flight that lands at 3:15.

Some personal interaction with the gate agents later, I’m rebooked.

But seriously, why is it up to me to be smart enough to look up all possibilities? What if this were four months ago when I still had a stupidphone? (Okay, so I had a netbook, but whatever). I find it absolutely ridiculous that I was never offered this flight in the first place.

Thank god for technology. I’ll let you frisk me all you want so long as I’m not spending a five hour layover in Philly.

Unfortunately, my beloved Southwest doesn’t want to fly to Detroit a lot (who does?), so I booked on US Airways in order to minimize layover times and have more options for my arrival and departure slots.

And now here I am, able to leave at about 10:00 a.m. tomorrow. And can I change my flight? Sure! For $150. Greedy bastards. Shouldn’t money be earned, shouldn’t someone work for that? How is US Airways earning $150 by letting its automated website and software acknowledge my online reservation change? They’re still getting me as a customer. My ass will still be occupying one of their seats. Why it is that they should be handed $150 because I switched that seat, I’ll never understand.

But I’m digressing.

My point here is: I shall be arriving at the lovely Detroit airport tomorrow at about 9:30ish. And I will begin the stand-by game. Oh boy! Look forward to random blog posts such as, “I’m starting a new web site called People of The Detroit Airport — pictures included,” “If you can debark dogs, you should be able to descream babies,” “I’m drunk,” “I’ve discovered more words you shouldn’t say at an airport in addition to the B-word,” and “Bail, anyone?”

“Luckily” I looked up US Airways stand-by policy and read that once I arrive at the airport, I can actually pay $50 for the privilege of moving my ticket up to the next available flight. I use quotation marks as I still think (A) this is highway robbery, and (B) if you’re going to let me move my ticket up, can’t I do it before I arrive? Sure would be nice to reserve my spot when my alarm goes off at 5:45 a.m. tomorrow. Assholes.

Methinks that after a certain point, they’ll make room for me on a flight just to get rid of me. I’m lovable like that.

8:15 – noon: Read my Kindle. Write blogs. Read Gawker. Be ignored by the other vendor rep in the room who would rather talk to my male coworker than little ol’ me.

12:00 – 12:45: Lunch.

12:45 – 2:00: Lounge on the surgical table, continue reading, play Words with Friends, ignore the vendor rep.

2:00 – 4:00: Work!

4:00 – 5:15: Lounge, read, realize I suck a Words With Friends.

Today:

Same, only… NO SURGICAL TABLE! And (more) SNOW.

I mean, not in the OR, but outside… where I have to walk… eventually…

So here I am, wishing I weren’t wearing a pencil skirt so that I could at least sit on the floor. But no.

It’s going to be a long day. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s my turn to play a word, and I need to figure out how to incorporate the four I’s I’ve managed to collect. Wiiii!