So Montana loves me. You'll see. I got into Billings right on time on Wednesday and met up with Keffy about 15 minutes later. As I was waiting for her to appear, I noticed several things that made me think "yup, I'm in Montana." One was the large number of old men wearing tight jeans, authentic cowboy hats, and big mustaches. Another was the life-sized horse made out of pinto beans displayed in the middle of the baggage claim area. Sure. Anyway, we got our rental car (it was supposed to be an "economy car," which, to Thrifty, apparently means "mini van" - not really, but it might as well have been - it was a Ford Freestyle.) and drove to Bozeman. We got there just in time to sign in at registration and go to our dorm room. Bozeman was in the midst of a heat wave the entire time we were there - the hottest it's been in years. It was about 105 when we rolled in. So of course I'm thinking "hey, this isn't so bad," whereas Keffy was thinking "OHMYGODI'MMELTING!" And the dorm room had no air conditioning. So Keffy wimped out and we spent the next couple of hours looking for a reasonably priced hotel that actually had a vacancy. Not an easy task. But we found one and then booked it on back to MSU (where the conference was being held) and went to the Salon opening (that's the juried art exhibition).
Thursday night was the awards banquet where, yes, I won two awards...and missed it. Friday night we had our big alumni dinner. There's an MCG alumnus who has a cabin in the mountains about 15 miles outside of Bozeman - and by cabin, I mean palatial cabin-like mansion. Holy crap. It was pretty awesome. Then Saturday night was the conference farewell dinner - which, fittingly enough, was a Barn Party.
So Kathy and I bought cowgirl hats and wore our western shirts and had a great time. Oh, and I won free registration for next years' meeting (in Indianapolis) in the raffle - I never win stuff! Not too shabby for Kristen. :-) Montana really does love me.Then there was the trip home. Yikes. Our only options for flights out on Sunday were at 6:30 in the morning. We didn't want to miss the closing dinner on Saturday night, so we knew this would mean we would have to leave at some ungodly hour to make our flights on Sunday. So, I decided it would be easier for me if I just stayed up until we had to leave at 2:30am. Thus, after the Barn Party we went and hung out with people until 1:00 or so and packed and stuff and rolled out of Bozeman around 2:45. Made my flight and got into Salt Lake City (where I had a two hour layover) right on time.
As I was walking (sleepily) to the board to see where my flight to Phoenix was supposed to leave from, I hear an announcement over the airport PA system, "[my name] please report to gate B15 for immediate boarding." What the crap!? I'm supposed to have two more hours. So I book it from gate E467 (seemed like) to gate B15 and go up to the desk where a waaaay too perky airline girl says to me (sounding like she just did me a huge favor) "oh, I booked you on an earlier flight - you need to go to gate D5. Your plane is leaving in five minutes." Now tell me this, does it make sense that I had to run to gate B15 so they could tell me my flight was leaving from gate D5? I submit that it does not. Anyway, made my new, earlier flight and got to Phoenix.
Well, much, much earlier that morning, at a time when life was simple and I assumed I had a two hour layover in Salt Lake City, I had checked my one carry-onable piece of luggage so I wouldn't have to bother with getting it in and out of the overhead bin. So I get to the baggage claim at PHX and find that they are in the midst of a baggage emergency. Two of their luggage carousels aren't working, so four airlines are trying to offload luggage on the two remaining carousels. Needless to say, chaos ensued. After an hour and a half of waiting and looking, I determined that the bag Too Perky B15 Lady had promised would arrive when I did was not there.
So I go to the baggage office. The guy asks me "I see you were scheduled on the 10:00am flight - why did they put you on the earlier one?" "That, sir, is an excellent question," I reply. So he apologizes and gives me two choices. One: they can see if my bag shows up and get it back to me sometime after 10pm. Two: I can wait ten minutes until my original flight gets in and see if it's on that one. I choose option two because what the hell, right? The nice guy gives me a voucher for lunch at the airport and I eat some pizza at Michael Scott's favorite New York pizza place.
I wait another half an hour or so at the belt my bag is supposed to appear on. It does not. I heave a resigned sigh and begin walking towards the baggage office once again but before I get there, I decide to make a detour and check the other belt on the off-chance that my bag is there for some odd reason. I walk over to the belt and see my bag slowly making its way around the carousel. I pick it up. I catch the shuttle van. I go home. It is 11:30am. ~sigh~
