So my blogging minibreak turned out to be a little bit longer than expected, but you know what? I don't regret one single moment of it. The last few weeks I managed to spend time with friends, family, see the facebook wife before she took off to Europe for two months ( her Europe number is now in my phone under "The Whore That Left Me") and going back up northwest for almost a week expedition to see one of my closest gals Pirate Jessica get married.
I was super stoked when there about the post I was going to have about the wedding and all the adventures of the week up north; seeing old friends, the stagette, reconnecting with the town where I grew up, etc. But as with all things ME things have a way or going awry. Horribly, horribly awry. So I'm going to break the story up into two posts. The one I'm going to tell here about the trip from hell and another one to come later with pics to show just how amazing the wedding was complete with happy tears, a radiant bride and groom and amazing, wonderful people.
So. The Story.
(warning, this is gonna be a long one)
My trip up north started a couple weeks ago when I went to the local greyhound to purchase my ticket. I have taken the greyhound travelling numerous times and although gross it is the cheapest way to get from A to B. So I booked my trip to take off the Wed at 1:30 in the morn (blech) to go to Smithers which would arrive there at 2:35 in the afternoon. enough time to have a quick nap and get ready for the bachelorette.
Being riddled with anxiety I went to the bus at 10pm last Tuesday night beforehand to check that the bus was on schedule to leave at 1:30am. The woman announced my ticket was wrong and printed me a new one. Which stated my bus left in exactly fifteen minutes. I panicked and convinced a taxi to follow me home where I threw together a suitcase in record time and ran out the door with the lights still making it on the bus with moments to spare. Whew. That was an exciting time but I made it onto the bus and even managed to doze on the seven hour trip to Prince George where I would have a layover of two hours before continuing my journey the rest of the way to Smithers.
Except when I got to the terminal at 6 in the morning and the driver asked where I was going and I stated Smithers. and he said there must have been a mix up with my ticket. You see, there are no Wednesday buses that go to Smithers.
After a bit of panic of waiting for the station to open its ticket counter I did get the confirmation that there was indeed no bus that travels to Smithers on Wednesday.And there was no flight I would have made to Smithers and no trains running that day. I was officially marooned in Prince George-the halfway point- for nineteen hours minimum. And then they lost my luggage. And then I became the crazy person in the greyhound crying and yelling.
Didn't matter, I wasn't going anywheres.
At that point I received a text from the Maid of Shining Honour, Mare saying that she was trying to hook me up with a ride with the groomsmen. And a couple hours later of drinking coffee in a coffee shop it was confirmed that they would be passing through and would pick me up. Knowing that I wasn't going to be stranded forever made it a lot more bearable. After my luggage was found, I even found solace in playing with my makeup kit and giving myself a manicure in the greyhound washroom (I'm ghetto, no?) and finding an internet cafe nearby that allowed me to surf facebook and eat sushi. By the time the groomsmen showed up I had turned my frown upside down and was sitting on patio furniture outside of a department store enjoying the sunshine. I ended up waiting nine hours but nine is better than nineteen. (Math is fun isn't it?)
The groomsmen were amazing for men that had just picked up a stranger off the side of the highway to take on a five hour drive to a wedding. Jessica had been telling me for months she could see me getting along with them swimmingly, one in particular, Brett( with a wink wink nudge nudge) and I can see why. They were hilarious and charming and easy to get along with. We were already making plans of defacing the town mountain goat statue with funny pictures when suddenly I started to feel.......off?
And ten minutes later I felt even....worse?
And ten minutes later I threw up in the backseat of Brett's SUV. And again ten minutes after that. I was grabbing at any bag I could find to ensure not a drop would get on the backseat. But at one point I ran out of bags, so did the next best thing. I rolled down the window and puked all over the Jeep.
Being mortified by my behavior and starting to realize that sushi from an internet cafe was probably not the best of idea I popped gravol like candy only to recycle them at a rapid pace. But some of it did eventually hit my system not stopping my stomach from heaving but leading to an overall high and slight hallucination and tracers and a slur.Meanwhile Jess is texting me to see if Brett and I are getting along yet (wink wink nudge nudge).
Yes, we were getting along as swimmingly as two people can for guys that picked up a woman on the side of the highway only to have her start violently throwing up on his jeep and then slurring gibberish. Did I mention he has a weak stomach too so every time I threw up he slammed it into park and had to run out of the truck to avoid the chain. This went on.
At that point I had puke on my jacket, in my hair and found myself defeated to writing the text saying I would not be at the bachelorette party while ignoring texts back that I might still make it. Eventually we made it to Smithers where I went to the B&B to sleep and puke the night away.
The next day I eventually made the bridal shower with a bottle of gingerale in tow which happened to be my date for the next three days that I could not eat food. I did not eat food for almost 4 full days. Meaning I was not chock full of hot at the wedding, I'm scrawny to begin with and I looked emancipated in my dress and everyone refered to me at that girl that got stuck in Prince George and was barfing everywhere. Even if I wanted to avoid that title the fact that I could only stomach gingerale at a wedding with free drink tickets would have been a very cruel tip off. I ended up spending a lot of the days eithering sleeping or drinking gingerale and I only felt alive again ON THE GREYHOUND RIDE HOME this last Sunday.
Oh, and sorry Jess that the set up didn't work out. I thank you for trying as I know how you thought Brett and I would go well together, but I don't blame him one bit for politely avoiding me for the remainder of trip. Even if i did try to do the right thing and gave him money to clean his SUV the damage was done.
Oh and after work today I am on my way to try to get the woman fired from Greyhound who sold me the ticket for the bus that doesn't exist and caused the chain reaction in the first place. No joke.