Coming to Rollercon - the long road to Sin City

Friday morning, I wake before my alarm goes off. Now why does that never happen when I have to go to work? I believe my body subconsciously acts out my preferences, not being politically correct, not polite, just acting upon my deepest wishes, one of them being, I will one day be so fortunate I will never have to get up early to go to work again.
The similarity to a workday though, is that I decide that I can sleep a little longer, as the alarm has not yet gone off, and thus, like any workday, waking too late, having slept through the first couple of highly irritating beeps and buzzes my alarm clock makes, that my body, again complying to my true self, so kindly shuts out of my ears and brain.

I get up, I rush, I text S. I want to take the train half an hour later as I am -as expected, she knows me long enough- running late. I thank myself for planning the early train so I can easily miss this trainride. I hate myself for having to rush, again. As always.

I watch M. in the bed, slowly waking up to the ruckus I am making. I don't want to leave. I want to crawl back in bed with him and forget about the whole trip. These last few weeks made me resent derby and its drama, it made me hate my body, my drive, my stubbornness and everyone involved. I ask him if he wants coffee. He murmurs yes and starts getting up. I feel the rush seeping out of my body. Fuck the train, I've already said I'd be late. I have time. I can sit down and have a coffee, say proper goodbyes. I go into the kitchen.

M. notices my fidgeting. 'Take a cab. It'll buy you time.' I rummage through my phone. He notices the look on my face. 'I have the number.' I call a cab. I return to being here and now. Coffee, proper goodbyes. His morning face makes me want to cry. He smiles at my silliness. 'Go enjoy yourself babe. Go and be awesome. You'll be back before you know it.'

The cabbie is on a rant about how the Rotterdam hospital, now in the news due to a second (!) outbreak of some resistant bacteria, has mistreated his just born twins. I only get half of what he's saying, but he seems content with my nodding and empathic grunts. I arrive at the train station in time for the train I had initially wanted to take. This whole 'buying an extra half hour of time' and getting worked up turned out unnecessary. I smile at my silliness and call S. to tell her I would have made it in time anyhow. She says she is almost there. I drag my suitcases up the stairs to the platform and wait for her to arrive.

The train ride fast and efficient, checking in semi-efficient (S. found out while I checked in, she could have joined my line instead of waiting for me to finish, but she goes through pretty fast anyways) we go outside and wait for her mom and girlfriend to come and kiss us goodbye on their way to their house and dog-sitting address for the next week or so. They buy us coffee and a croissant, and only then I realize I never had breakfast. That is probably what made me get to the train station in time.

We go through customs in a jiffy, and proceed to the gate. As it turns out, checking in started at my gate. I worry about my skates being in my carry-on luggage. What if they make me check my bag? We heard from a friend traveling to Stuttgart that had to check the skates as they were possible weapons. We laugh at the image of us wielding the skates above our heads trying to get seat upgrades. We kiss our goodbyes. 'See you tonight love.'

Nobody even pays attention to the skates. When in Houston, going through customs, the officer asks me what I'll be doing in Vegas. 'Roller Derby' I blurt. 'Roller Derby?' He squints at me, measuring 'They still do that? Like in the seventies? Really?' I start a monologue about flat track derby and rules and regulations and... 'You can go ma'am'  Right...not everyone is as passionate about this as you are. Obviously.

When I get to my seat I try to wrestle my bag under the chair in front of me. Ignoring the all too obvious fact that it is too big, I turn it, kick it, turn it again, stomp on it, turn it again. The guy next to me gestures he'll put it in the overhead for me. I reluctantly shove the bag towards him. 'It's heavy, there's skates in there.' He smiles 'Roller derby?' I look at him surprised. 'What gave it away?' He points at my arms. 'Let's say you fit the picture, tough looking, skates, tattoos. You don't look like a normal skater.' I make a face. He goes, 'Let me rephrase that, I didn't mean to say normal. What's normal? Let's just say that you have a way of expressing yourself a lot of other people don't.' I laugh as he blushes. He continues 'I guess all I am saying is that I am happy not to have to share this place with a big fat stinky guy.' 'Or with a kid' I say. He nods. We don't speak again.

My plane to Vegas is delayed. I treat myself to a huge chocolate malt which gives me instant brain freeze. I get a complementary cookie. I greedily grab for the biggest chocolate chip cookie in the basket. Which later turns out to be an oatmeal raisin cookie. I snicker and think of this comic L. once posted at FB. I now completely understand it.

When I finally get on the plane, more than three hours later, I am knackered. The sugar OD of the day wore me out. I almost instantly fall asleep, drooling on myself and dreaming of rushing through traffic to get nowhere fast.

When in Vegas I find it soothing that there are slot machines the minute you get off the plane. Yup, I know this place. I go out to find a cab. There is a huge line. I am sweating already. It takes me half an hour to get a cab. I want M. I want my bed. I want to be home out of the warm desert wind that feels like someone is constantly pointing a hairdryer set at high heat in your face. While checking in I feel I am falling sideways. I am falling into someone, I am... I straighten my back, but the man standing next to me at the desk has noticed me leaning in to him. 'Hey, next time you do that, you need to buy me a drink.' 'I will sir, I will' I rush past him to get to my room.

The room is more than I expected. It has an I-pod dock that I am very grateful for. I am happy to be playing my own music while unpacking.

Luscious bed!

Huge tv...certainly!

Yay for bathtubs!

And sinks ;)

The beloved I-pod dock. :)

S. texts she only came in now as she has been delayed for hours as well. Her roommates are all sleeping. We decide to meet for breakfast. I drop into bed, I fall asleep to classical music my dad put on my I-pod. I am here. I am in Sin City.