I woke up this morning tired, but happy.  J text me, he can’t cross any non-US boarders while in BUD/S… that means no big family Thanksgiving in San Filipe, Mexico – I am super bummed.  Then I start to think about the reality series audition that I possibly did not get a call back on due to this road trip, as well as the two auditions that I am missing while on this Chicago to LA road trip and I start to get really frustrated.  My career is slightly more flexible than J’s and so due to that, I feel like I am always compromising because my career can and his cannot.

I cannot keep this frustration bottled up, so I text J, hoping he does not get mad.  He does not, he is thankful and understanding and apologetic – he loves me.  Let it go, LAchic, let it go.  You are going on a road trip with the love of your life.  You are back in LA now, you have to get used to juggling life and acting and forgetting about auditions as soon as you walk out their door.  You get to spend the next week with some much needed one on one time with your bebe – SNAP OUT!  Plus, three auditions in a week and a half… not bad for just moving back to LA, everything happens for a reason, there will be more auditions.

I remember a dream I had before I woke up.  I was on a plane to Chicago, isle seat, and this man is sitting in the window seat.  Just as we are landing he tells me, “You’re lucky, because of you, I did not blow up this plane.”  I really need a dream book.

I drop my car off at DH’s house, he is super sweet and agreed to watch over my car and move it for street cleanings while I am gone as well as drop me off at the airport on his way to work.   Thank you DH! 

After I pass through security, I look at my iphone… 8:13?!  No, I hate getting to the airport this early… oh well.  An hour and a half till I can board the tiny little 50 seat jet.  Yay, seat 12D.  Wait – I thought that meant I was upfront… nope (small plane, remember), all the way in the back, the very last seat actually, which means it does not recline and my back is already hurting.  Then the smell of old woman perfume… she must have sponge bathed with it – WOW, is it strong!

The guy sitting next to me is nervous and fidgety, either he hates flying or he wants to blow up this plane, like in my dream… um, lets hope it’s the first.  Wow… he kinda smells like alcohol too, it is making me nauseous.  Did I mention I hate flying? I always try to make the best of it, but whenever I hear reports on the news such as the France/Brazil flight – gives me one more reason why I hate flying.  Death by plane is not the way I want to go at all!  Besides, I am supposed to live until I am 112. 

I was running to make it to my second flight; I only had a half hour from getting off of my first flight until my second flight left. I looked up at the information board to find where my second flight was – it was on the complete opposite side of the airport and it was already boarding (of course, it was leaving in a half hour).  I had no time to grab lunch between flights and this next flight was a 3 and a half hour flight, bummer, at least I packed some snacks.  As I am running to catch my flight I check my phone.  My agent called.  I booked a paid photoshoot for Monday in Seattle!  Adding salt to my wound – WTF… I can never go on vacation without missing something important for my career, when it rains, it pours.

Luckily, my second flight was comfortable and relaxing.  I had my own TV to watch and I reclined my seat the whole way, nice!  I turn on the cooking channel because I want to start cooking some amazing food for J while he is in BUD/S, he is going to need some good, yummy, healthy food.

We land, YAY, I am finally in Chicago.  I text J, he is not even near the airport yet, he is not even sure where exactly the airport is, wow.  While waiting for J, I realize I have been petty and grumpy all day long, stupid - I am better than that… I know better than to worry about auditions, I know everything happens for a reason, I know J and I had this vacation planned since he left back in March, I am a dork.  I wait for him out in the cold Chicago weather for 15 minutes and finally he arrives… he is chatting away on his cell – Um, thanks babe.  I am never late to pick you up at the airport (in fact I am always sitting around waiting for you to arrive), and I am NEVER on my cell when I pick you up, especially if it has been awhile since I have seen you.  Back to grumpyville?  No, no, no – snap out!