Our flight was scheduled to depart Ft. Lauderdale Thursday afternoon. We had each arranged to take a half-day off Thursday, just working during the morning.

We forgot that Wednesday night was Ladies' Night. In our Going On Vacation Excitement, we proceeded to attend Ladies' night without eating dinner. We also proceeded to let some boy buy us shots.

We all know I'm NOT allowed to do shots.

After staying at a friend's, I arrived back at the apartment at a blurry 8 a.m., having to be at work by 8:45. As I looked for my key, the door began to open up, and I assumed Shawn heard me and was helping - we always do that for each other. I was surprised to look up and see our friend Oscar pulling open the doorknob. Oscar was smoking a cigarette and drinking a 40 oz. Budweiser. At 8:10 a.m. I almost threw up on Oscar.

Instead, I mumbled, "I can lay down for 10 minutes" before collapsing next to him on the couch.

When I opened my crusty eyes 10 minutes later, Oscar was out cold. I went back to my bed, where Shawn was, to ask her why she wasn't on the futon with Oscar.

"Shawn!"

"Mmm?"

"Oscar's in the living room!"

"No, he isn't."

Pause.

"Dude, yes he is. I just saw him. Just now."

"Oscar is NOT in the living room! Shut up!"

"Oooookay, Princess Hangover."

I gave up and went to work. Shawn never showed at her job - quel surprise!

When I came home to pack and make sure Shawn was still among the land of the living, I found Oscar still there.

"Do you believe me now?"

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

"'Sokay."

We frantically packed, and then proceeded to get stuck in Key Largo. You know how you just CAN'T get out of town sometimes? Drugstore, car shop, gas station, drop Oscar off... fuck, we're late.

By the time we got to Miami, we were damn late. We have about an hour before our flight left, and we were still about 40 minutes from the airport. It was at this time that I commenced driving like an absolute, raving maniac.

I didn't think Shawn would ever stop laughing. I was yelling at everyone. I was yelling at the road, at the sky, at my car. At one point, my lunatic driving pissed off a car full of girls, and we yelled at them for a while, until I told Shawn through gritted teeth, "We DON'T have time for this!" She lowered her middle finger and we moved on.

We were hungover. We were so hot and humid, we were systematically tearing off articles of clothing. We were late, late, late.

When we saw the first sign for the Ft. Lauderdale Airport, it was after 3 p.m. Our flight departed at 3:20. Shawn decided to pull out our itinerary, and see what airline we were on.

Our flight didn't leave until 4:20.

After whoops of joy, I slowed down from ludicrous speed and continued toward the airport. Once we arrived, we had the obligatory parking confusion, and then began the marathon trek to the Park N' Save. Since we were both wearing flip-flops and very minimal clothing, the plan was to change into flying clothes in the parking lot.

But it was so, so hot in my car. So there was one point where I was standing outside the car wearing nothing but my shirt and underwear, searching through a bag for my socks. Meanwhile, Shawn was inside the car, door open, wearing only underwear. Boobs akimbo, broad daylight. I cursed that my camera was packed away, and continued getting dressed.

When we were almost together, an airport security guy in a golf cart pulled up with a huge grin on his face.

Oops.

We went to the stop to wait for the shuttle, holding a conversation with some other women, also waiting. They couldn't believe we were going to be gone for four days, and only had a small suitcase and a carry-on, each.

Me: "No, we just wear really slutty clothes, so they're small and easy to pack."

The women laughed really hard, but... um, I wasn't really joking.

The air-conditioned-heaven, also known as the "shuttle," arrived. Shawn had eaten half of her sandwich in the car, but walking through the airport, I couldn't wait another second, so I ended up chowing down while I strutted through the airport. We checked in, got searched. No lines. Two raging hangovers, no sleep, hot car ride. We were looking rough.

First plane: Ft. Lauderdale to Charlotte. Yes, our connection was in Charlotte. Yes, they were CHEAP tickets.

We only had an hour in Charlotte. Our first plane was late. Very late.

I can't even remember what we did during the flight. I believe I may have filled the time with "dozing uncomfortably." All I know was we were descending at 6:50, and our flight to L.A. was supposed to depart at 7:15. It wasn't looking good. Bad weather over Charlotte.

I found us two middle seats in the second and third rows, so we wouldn't have to wait behind all the putzes wrestling with the overhead compartments. Shawn and I both commiserated with the men around us who were also about to miss their connections, and the sweet men to both of our lefts offered to switch places with us, so we could just leap out of the seats and out the door.

We were still taxiing at 7:10. The flight attendant said all the flights were probably delayed a little, because of the weather. I'd heard that bullshit story before.

We finally got off the plane, at 7:14. Our departure gate was fortunately in the same terminal, just a few gates down.

I told Shawn I'd try to hold it for her, and took off. People, the running really came in handy, in an extremely practical way, for the first time. The last time I had to take a sprint through an airport, it nearly killed me. Seriously. I couldn't stop coughing.

This time, I was like Run Lola Run. Darting in and out of people talking on cellphones, children, and wheelchairs. Techno music was pounding the the background, and my cherry-red hair streamed out behind me. (Okay, I made those last two things up.)

When I arrived at my gate, the first thing I saw was that the flight was delayed until 7:30. Shawn jogged up a few seconds later, and we both threw our arms in the air and did a little victory dance. The other passengers looked mildly afraid. We had some TCBY and a cigarette, then boarded the plane.

On our flight across the country, we were both starving and bored. We played hangman, which quickly became Hungry, Hungry Hangman, where all the clues were Food. Food. Food.

The airplane ravioli didn't help much. We also watched Gosford Park. Now, they said this movie was edited for the in-flight showing. I'm not sure what they cut out, but I'm pretty sure they edited the footage that made the movie make sense, because when it was over, Shawn and I looked at each other and shrugged. Whatever. The damn headphones cost us FIVE DOLLARS, to RENT. Can you believe that shit? We packed them into our carryon for movie viewing the flight home. Hey, that's fair. Maybe we would understand it the second time.

When we arrived in L.A., we were surprised to find that Gretchen and Shannon weren't there yet, but then remembered the delays, and figured they'd called, been told we'd be late, and that they'd show up any minute. Shawn and I had great baggage claim luck the whole trip. We received our bags quickly, and when we walked outside, there were the girls.

On the way to Shannon's apartment, we stopped at In N Out Burger, which is becoming a Jamie's Arrival In L.A. tradition. We finally got home, and Shannon's roommate was already in bed. So we all just drank a little wine and talked and talked, while Shawn and I forced ourselves to stay awake to combat jet lag.

When we finally went to bed, it was 1:30 a.m., and our Florida bodies thought it was 4:30. We slept soundly, and awoke the next morning to the first freezing Los Angeles day.

To be continued...