"You bastard, you damn bastard!"
I've been so frickin' worried for weeks now, and he finally called me, his light, smarmy tone just SO friendly, "Oh, I'm sorry, it must have gotten into my car. Well, it's doing just fine here in France, you want to just wait until the next reunion to pick it up?"
I can't believe this. I let the dratted thing out for a few minutes so it doesn't bother the guests, and it goes and sneaks into my brother's car?! Really?! I am so furious--why couldn't it have chosen to run off with Janine? She at least lived only in Harrisburg, PA, which is a lot closer than France.
I might need to explain a bit, but it'll have to be quick because I'm also in the middle of breakfast, filling out a job application, and trying to find my brother's address. Yes, I am seriously going to go to France to get my pet back. I know, it sounds a bit crazy, but when you live in Baltimore, home of (in Hamden) hipsters and overly expensive junk, or (in Hamilton, where I live) absolutely nothing interesting except the homeless people, who are pretty cool, it's nice to have a companion that can't actually speak human.
Only a few days later, which involved aggressive shopping, both for plane tickets and supplies(believe me, even for something like this, a camera was needed--it is France, for God's sake), I was running pell-mell down the street, trying in vain to wave down a taxi. I know, I know, bad planning on my part, but seriously, I'd done it all in three days so my beautiful little friend wouldn't have to spend a year with my rich, snooty brother.
So I'm at the airport. My flight? Delayed. I am outside, because the earliest ETA of departure is four hours from now.
I'd probably throw something if I--oh.I glare at my bags, full of soft, non-breakable clothes, and then hurl it at the ground, giving the throw some distance to add satisfaction, and it hits a guy square in the stomach.
"I'm so sorry, sir, please, are you, are you okay?" I grimace, taking my bag from the young guy's hands. He's younger than me, and looks more startled than anything else. He offers a grin. "No problem. Uh, flight delay?" He guesses, and I glare at him. "Four hours. I need to get to France! My pet, got..kidnapped!" I say this, and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm weird, but his next words leave me stunned.
"Want to catch a lift with me? I'm traveling to Europe myself--no charge, hot air travel gets pretty lonely."
I swear five minutes pass before I can intelligently say, "Huh?"
He grins for real now, and explains, "I own a hot air balloon. I've paid the airport to use this field to lift off from--that, er, might be the cause of the de--" I get up in his face, furious, and shake his collar. "You better take me, then, or I swear I will take a giant pair of scissors to your little--" "Okay! Okay! I said I'd take you, anyway, lady, sheesh." He begins to walk away, and I have to catch up, following with a still disbelieving look on my face.
Then I see the balloon, and boy, do I feel bette--lie. I feel terrified, but it's free, (I got a refund on my plane tickets) it's a hot air balloon, and I gotta get to France. So when I step into the large basket, set down my bags, and look around, it's with a terrified but kind of growing excitement.
Listening to: Jayma Mays and Glee Cast--Touch a Touch a Touch me
Reading: My journal entry...xD