Flew out on Wednesday. They let me check my Dad's guitar at the gates like I wanted. The trip itself was largely uneventful, thank god. Packing my suitcase was a bitch because I kept going 2 or 3 lbs overweight, and the luggage scale I bought was of zero help because it read something wildly different every single time, in spite of saying that it supported up to 70lbs, and my suitcase was in the 50s.
Thankfully, my suitcase was 53lbs, when the weight limit is 50 before an extra charge is applied, but the lady at the check-in counter didn't charge me for that.
But I had to leave behind my creepers, which makes me sad. Oh well... It's done and over with. That's what counts at the end of the day. I can buy new creepers later.

The first jet was tiny, smaller than any commercial plane I've been in. The jets going from CO to DFW are usually tiny, but this one was even more so.
The stewardesses were also total cunts to me. I don't even know why. I always make it a point to be as nice as I can to workers because I know they're just doing their jobs, and their jobs are tough.
I asked this old blonde bitch if I left my guitar in the right place for checked baggage, and her face wrinkled up like she just stepped in shit, as she condescendingly told me "yes."
In spite of her needless attitude, I just thanked her and went to my seat.
I got situated, set my stuff on the floor, and put some of my things in the storage sleeve in the back of the next seat so I could access them during takeoff, per my usual routine on a flight. Phone, charger, and jerky go in the sleeve. Everything else goes in the floor under the seat in front of me. Normally my water bottle would also go in the sleeve, but I had a soft collapsible one this trip and it would have pushed all the water out if I did that.

This apparently was an egregious offense, and the same woman hounded me twice because my stuff was in the storage slot and "not under the seat in front of me" enough.
This, in spite of the fact that other people, even in my same class, had far larger and far more things in their storage slots, and their stuff pushed much farther out into the foot space than mine was. I'm fine with the rules as long as the rules are applied universally and fairly. The rules were not being applied universally and fairly, in spite of the same woman checking everyone's seats before takeoff.

I have been on around eight trips counting this one, going back and forth on this exact route. Sixteen airplanes. I've NEVER been treated like this on any of the others, in spite of having paid around $100 more this time for priority seating and premium seats, primarily so I could retrieve my Dad's guitar at the gate asap after deboarding.

I also had to get up and immediately piss like a racehorse after we leveled out above the clouds and the seatbelt signal turned off. (Another stewardess was also shitty to me because I dared ask if I could get up and use the bathroom before then. She just wordlessly pointed to the seatbelt sign with a grimace, even though I've been on flights with the seatbelt sign on consistently because of turbulence, when people were still allowed to get up and use the bathrooms and get in their overhead bins at their own risk as long as they sat back down after the fact and put their seatbelts back on.)
I had an iced tea and one of those two-espresso-shot milkshake drinks running through my system, working like Atlas to hold my eyes open against the weight of only two entire hours of sleep.
I couldn't find the bathroom in the back of the jet, so I walked to the front.
I couldn't find it there either, so I reluctantly asked the first, more bitchy stewardess where the bathroom was. And, yet -again-, she had to give me a shitty little fucking attitude, and rolled her eyes at me, like I just came up and asked her for money for the twelfth time. Because I committed the cardinal sin of having to pee, and didn't know where the toilets were, and didn't want to risk pulling the wrong lever in a very complicated piece of machinery with 800 dangerous bits and ends, soaring 36000ft in the air, going 600mph.

I don't know if it's just because I looked like a tired, nerdy piece of shit goth, and she was a Bible-humper, or what the fuck, but it still massively pissed me off and put me off of that AA-commissioned company entirely. I'm still considering complaining.
Fuck you and fuck off. I hope you're an expecting grandmother and your children miscarry. My bladder is about to burst, and you're serving people crackers while acting like Empress Cunt, Supreme Ruler of the Skybus because I dared ask you a question that took you an entire second to answer.

My second flight, thankfully, was far better. Granted, it was DFW and my usual airline, so it was an hour late, per the usual. At least it was only ONE hour late this time, instead of four. I've had long, long nights waiting in DFW for a delayed plane before.

A guy sitting in front of me attempted and failed to spell "stewardess" for like 15 minutes. I think most of his attempts were some form of "stuardice."
He looked to be around 60. It was kind of funny.
I think he was complaining that she wasn't hot, but I didn't see nor pay attention to the rest of his conversation because I mentally checked out once the plane took off.

If I ever fly again, for whatever reason, I am getting the premium seats again, though. I didn't have my knees squished up into my collarbone this time. And you get a checked bag for free and "flight credit" if you cancel, so it kind of evens out. I'd prefer a cash refund, but if I book a flight, I actually intend to fly out, so it's whatever.

After I arrived, he helped me with my shit after I got my bag off the luggage carousel, and we just drank some beers and chilled out. Both of us were immensely tired.

I need to start the process of changing all my registered addresses to here. I still don't have a lease. I don't know why they haven't given him or me a lease yet, but here the fuck we are.
But once we do, I can start progressing forward with everything else.
At the very least, I can start paying him rent regardless, which will help immensely, even if I don't have my other stuff just yet.

I need to go through my boxes that I mailed here. I went through some, but there's so many more. So much shit. I'm just so tired.
My old 90s Sailor Moon Cutie Moon Rod toy is also dying. I put new batts in it and it sounds like it's drowning, which is sad. Maybe cleaning the dirty-ass battery contacts will help.
It's also a little torn up (the paint is chipped off in multiple places), but I literally used to play out in the yard with it with my sister, who also had one. It's well-loved.

I never intended to sell it and still don't, though, so the damage is completely ignorable.

Anyway, this has lasted long enough, he's coming home soon, and I should probably call my Mom, so I'm out.