Stephanie Lichtenstein

For those who are wondering how Steph and I ended up in almost every city BUT Austin on our way to SXSW, here’s how it all went down.

Since most flights from Orlando were either sold out or upwards of $700, I thought it would be fun to drive to SXSW. I’ve never been to New Orleans, which is on the way, and it’s less then a day’s drive. I mentioned my idea on Twitter and a ‘friend’- I’m using this term loosely for a reason I will explain in a minute- said she wanted to drive as well. We’ll call her…Ann. So Ann lives in NY, which is obviously, not on the way to Austin from Orlando or really anywhere but Canada.

I say ‘friend’ because I call everyone I’ve met and drank with for more then I don’t know…12 minutes…a friend. Big mistake #1. I now have learned lesson #1 from mistake #1- always qualify friendships. This person did not qualify as a friend. Due to this description, I missed out on several warnings from actual friends with more in-depth knowledge of Ann’s mental state because they didn’t want to insult me by calling my ‘friend’ crazy. Next time, save me the trouble. Seriously.

YOU PEOPLE, you social media people, know better then anyone, the confusing background behind describing relationships, or lack thereof, with people you know online, from a show, etc. I PROMISE, I won’t be offended. That being said, still 100% my fault for having this bright idea.

So I happen to see an announcement that JetBlue is having a 10^th anniversary sale- $10 flights for 2 days only from limited cities to JFK. PERFECT!!! I can fly to NY for less then the cost of lunch and voila! Fun road trip, we stop in Nashville to see my BF (best friend, not boyfriend, don’t be ridiculous I don’t date country singers), and head to Austin for SXSW. YAY!!!

The JetBlue fares were only available on this one day I found them through midnight online, and the site was down the majority of the day. At about 11:45pm, I FINALLY get a 7am- and hesitate for the slightest second. Then I book it. What’s the worst that can happen, right? WRONG! Mistake/Lesson #2: Trust your instincts.

I then call my buddy (who at this time I knew better then Ann, but not as well as I do now as we have bonded for life due to the terrible experience I will likely never be able to make up to her) and mention my plans because she was also considering going to SXSW last minute. Free trip? She’s in. Sweet. I will use her real name 1) because she’s awesome and 2) because this is her blog so you already know her. So I tell Steph and Ann* (name changed to protect the guilty and insane) I’ll be in at 9:30am to JFK.

Of course I don’t ever do anything trip-related until I absolutely have to, so I pack around 2am, go to sleep around 4am because John Raser wanted to torture me with texts because I may or may not (that means I did) take Steph away from his charity event and now I must suffer. And I’m a terrible publicist. Whatever, we’re going to SXSW, you’ll get over it Raser. Lesson #3: No he won’t. Don’t be spontaneous if you already have plans.

So the plan was for Steph, who never met Ann, to meet her at her place and come get me at the airport. Lalala, I get off the airport, decide I’ll get my bag from the claim area and THEN call the girls. Big Mistake #4- Do NOT leave the civilization/ comfort of the terminal unless you know your ride is waiting. So I call the girls, and Ann is running late because she just moved from one apartment to another and had to unpack some stuff before she can pack. Convo:

Me: No problem, when do you think you’ll be here?

Ann: Oh we’re going to leave soon. No worries.

Me: OK, cool. Should I hop a cab and head over?

Ann: No, no. Don’t worry about it.

One hour passes….two…then three…and it’s like a Dr. Seuss novel. People come and people go. Suitcases fall and suitcases roll…blah blah.

At this point, Steph and I are texting back and forth and no, Ann has not started packing, she’s on the phone, on her laptop, playing solitaire, whatever. Great. Noon. Still sitting in the airport. Got in at 9:45. Mind you, I’m in BAGGAGE CLAIM. There’s no restaurants. No stores. No mini spas. Just luggage, luggage, luggage, and oh yeah, luggage. Weeeeee!

By now I’ve got my laptop out and am trying to get some work done and entertain myself and I see the strangest thing. I’ve got a Facebook fan page request…from Ann…for her website. And she’s…TWEETING. I’m sorry, what?! Shouldn’t you be packing? Or driving?! I’m SITTING IN THE FING AIRPORT. My friend, who you have never met, is sitting on your couch watching you do nothing productive for this trip. We also were supposed to make it to Nashville around 10pm to stay at my friend’s house, who had to work in the morning. I find out Ann invited a 4^th person on the trip, thankfully my friend didn’t mind hosting a complete stranger, but um, hi, can we show up at a reasonable hour? No because Ann decides to launch her website when the world, who doesn’t give a crap anyway, is at SXSW. Oh, and when I’m sitting in the airport waiting for her. Cute.

So while I’m fuming over getting a FB invite, which by the way, I hate anyway and I think are TERRIBLE for business because they are the antithesis of productivity- I see Jetblue is at it again! Free flight tix if you can find them in…Manhattan! OMG WHAT?! I’m in Manhattan! Steph’s in Manhattan! Ann and HER friend are in Manhattan! Well, kind of. Her friend, by the way, is very nice, and I will call him…Andy. So Andy is actually in NJ even though he lives in Manhattan. He only has a toothbrush with him, but free ride to SXSW? No time to come back to Manhattan to pack, right? Right? So Ann says. Andy- next time? Don’t listen. You could’ve walked to the city and packed and made it back in time. Just sayin’. All we needed to do was bring a birthday card to their location. I had birthday cards…in my hand! And what do I do? Put them back because I already told Ann we’d drive with her. See? Nice! Mistake/Lesson #5- DON’T BE NICE!

So being the sweet, innocent, angel that I am, while I’m waiting, I start making comments on my social media pages because if Ann has time, then so do I. Ann doesn’t have much of a sense of humor and starts complaining to some unknown caller while Steph is sitting next to her- which makes me laugh, because Steph is telling me all about it. So I giggle, and of course, write more stuff. I’m so clever.

So finally around 1:30pm, yes that’s approximately…4 hours AFTER I’ve arrived in NYC, not to mention the part where I had to you know, fly from Orlando, Ann arrives…in her stick shift car. BAH! WHAT!!! Now I know cool chicks drive manual- Steph and I are the exception to the rule. And *most* people know that not everyone knows how to drive a stick shift. By most…I’m going to estimate….99.28%. So not only can we not drive at all during this trip, but Ann is massively perturbed because her car is dirty. I mean, really? We’re driving across the country- it’s not going to look brand spankin’ new honey. Focus on the important things. Like why we won’t get to Nashville until 3am.

Ann tells us no biggie, she can drive the whole way as long as we can keep her company and navigate. She forgot to tell us she got her drivers training at the NASCAR school for crash landing. Whatever, we’re finally on our way. So we’re making conversation, and reading the directions (the text kind, not reading a map), and she snaps and tells Steph and I we’re not reading the directions right! Um, what? I’m not reading…words…right? I don’t have a compass and wampum, I have a freakin’ iPhone with GPS. You see the same words I do. I know my vision is bad, but I actually tested well above grade level in the reading department. Look at me! I’m SMRT! Whatever, she doesn’t like my voice. I get it, it’s cool. But then…it HAPPENS.

She asks me about my tweets. You know the ones. The ones starting the betting pool guessing what time Ann will get to the airport. Or how about the one telling her to stop setting up her facebook profiles and come get me. Yeah, those. And you all know how quiet and unconfrontational I am. Right?

I apologize for hurting her feelings, because I was just joking around and being extremely sarcastic as usual, but I do inquire why I was left in the airport for so long. Oh. My. God. Cue the Hitchcock soundtrack. Ann has a konipshit. Unfortunately we did not film this incident, which really would be the only way to fully give justice to our torture other than having you there. Just trust me- it’s worse then this post can actually capture.

How could I accuse her of being so irresponsible?! She didn’t even- and I quote- have a bite to eat or take a sip of water the entire time she was trying to rush to get to me (really? What about that fan page? And those boiled eggs you’ve got sitting in the cupholder? How about that site you launched?). Don’t I appreciate her driving me all the way to Austin (um, it was supposed to be a shared drive except for the part where you assume everyone drives stick)?! After she finished (so I thought) her rant/ trip to crazy town, I tell her you know what, it’s ok, I didn’t mean to make her upset, it’s going to be a lonnnnnnnng trip, let’s just forget about it. Yayyyyyyyy! We’re going to Austin! Yay? Yay?

She cries!!! CRIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well NOW what? Steph and I are texting back and forth at this point trying to figure out the best course of action and I’m trying to make nice because, hello, I want to live long enough to tell about our journey. I keep assuring Ann it’s fine and I’m over it. And she’ll calm down for a few minutes and then flip again. Cuteness. WTF are we doing? Steph and I decide (via text, of course, because how can you have that conversation with the person in the driver’s seat next to you) that we have to bail on the trip. But now we’re on our way to Jersey, taking full on curves at 70 mph and praying to anyone listening we can get out with our luggage and get away. Yes, it was that bad.

I understand, things happen, I’m late all the time. I mean really. 15-20 minutes, and I’ve had bad days and cried over little things, so I get that. But this, THIS was beyond epic out of control. This was full on, delusional, seriously in need of help I can’t give you nervous breakdown. Time to go.

While I’m distracting Ann and telling random stories about anything and everything under the sun, Steph is looking up Jetblue flights on her phone. I am also simultaneously texting my friend EJ who miraculously moved to NJ literally the day before from Orlando asking if he can pick us up, because we have this small window of opportunity in which we have to pick up Andy at his mom’s house. He keeps calling because I sound desperate via text (which is quite possible, let me tell you), and I keep ignoring him because, well, you know. She’s THERE. So he tells us he can pick us up but he’s about an hour away. Stall time.

Steph can’t find flights because everyone, their mother and their worst enemy are on their way to Austin, so we just figure step 1- out of this car. Step 2- figure out how to get to Austin. There’s a bunch of awkward silence, and then we have some normal conversation, and it’s one of those situations where there’s an elephant in the room, but you can’t mention the elephant, because it might stomp on your head and eat you for dinner. So instead, you talk about your mutual love of peanuts and how PETA should really get after the circus, etc. etc. And plot how the f you’re going to get out of the room.

We get to Andy’s house, and EJ is still about ½ hour away. Meanwhile, Andy’s mom is super nice and so excited her son is going on such a lovely road trip with three wonderful girls- yes, three. Ann apparently had a moment of clarity or split personality disorder in which she can behave. Andy’s mom is super chatty and lovely and wants us to stay all day, but Andy knows we’re impatient as I already told him (MISTAKE #6: Don’t tell people you’re in a rush when you’re with someone you want to rush away from) we were leaving without him if we weren’t ready. So we get in the car and…stall time…I’m sooooooooooooooo hungry! And poor Ann hasn’t even had time for a sip of water. Let’s get pizza to go? Oh no, no, no, let’s eat in the restaurant! Yes!!! No, I INSIST! Really.

I forgot to mention at some point prior to getting to Andy’s, we stop for gas (hey, I paid for that), and Steph and I rendezvoused briefly by the ATM to discuss getting out right then and there- but Ann had our bags and I really like my wardrobe, and my wallet. So let’s wait and get to our safe place. Plus, we walked out the door and she was at the curb waiting- eeek! Must…exit…safely…with…luggage.

So we’re merrily eating pizza and having conversation, la la la la, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to break the news. Really, honestly, how do you tell someone like that something like that? I’m sorry, it’s not you, it’s me…something like that. So then I just let EJ come in like I don’t know he’s going to show up. I know, I’m a terrible person, I’m going straight to hell, blah blah- listen, I work with puppets for a living, I’ve done far worse then bail on a trip less then ¼ a way through- and this was WELL deserved. I felt bad for Andy though, who had no clue and who, until now, really had no clue what went down. Sorry Andy, we heart you. You have far more patience then I ever will, and possibly a PhD in psychology or something.

EJ walks into the restaurant and we casually hi five each other (who does that? Haha) and Ann and Andy think he just *happened* to be at this pizza place in the middle-of-nowhere NJ where we stopped for lunch. For a split second, I seriously consider playing this card. It could work..except…why am I randomly leaving with him? And taking Steph with me? Yeah, I couldn’t do it. So I calmly, as I have been this whole trip, because I honestly did want to put the 4 hour wait at the airport behind me and focus on the future, tell Ann that it’s just not going to work out.

I feel like I’m breaking up with someone. Guys, I give you so much credit- if for nothing else- for having to deal with crazy girls when you break up with them. There’s just nothing you can say or do that will cause them to not flip out. Even if you TELL them nothing you can say or do will change the situation, they don’t believe you- and then they flip out more. So I break the news, and try to keep it more of a ‘I want to remain friends but don’t think we could if we stay on this trip together’ then a ‘you are insane and I fear for my life’ deal. Clearly, Ann isn’t having it. It’s one of THOSE breakups.

The four of us- Andy, EJ, Steph, and I- are having a nice little convo, and Ann is fuming, crying, and texting/tweeting in the corner. Then she freaks again. More of the same woe-is-me, how can you do this, you’re such an idiot, you’re a bitch, insane- really, just insert any adjective, verb, noun, whatever. She called me it. That’s fine- I wasn’t really expecting less. It just verified what Steph and I already knew- we needed to get out of that car.

We walk to the car and Ann starts throwing our suitcases from the trunk- I try to help her and she freaks, so I ask her to please (I SAID PLEASE! I SAID IT NICELY!) unlock the door so I can get our stuff from the backseat. WHOAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! You’d think I asked her to kill her unborn children. That’s a whole other nightmare I hope never occurs, but anyway, it went something like:

How could you do this to me?! After all I’ve done for you! You are the one who kept bringing up waiting in the airport! You are the one who couldn’t drop it!!

To which I said- your overreaction and dramatic attitude is exactly why we are no longer going with you, and I feel really bad for Andy. Nothing you can say, do, or scream, is going to get me back into that car with you, so please give us our stuff so we can go.

More throwing (even the $1 bottle of water Steph bought her), more ranting and raving and hearing how EXTREMELY disappointed she was in me (ok, mom, spare me). Then, as we’re praising the ground EJ walks on, apologizing profusely to Andy, and loading our suitcases into EJ’s car all at the same time, Ann drives back and forth in the parking lot…for no apparent reason. Just driving…back and forth…watching us load the car. I think this is the point at which she put her voodoo curse on us.

DISCLAIMER: I am not sure she actually practices voo doo, but the rest of the story (OF COURSE there is more), causes me to believe it’s true. Ann, if you’re reading this, which I’m sure you are, because you’re crazy, here’s what you should know prior to proceeding:

1) You deserve far worse then everything that happened to us and I don’t wish anything bad on you so if you did do some sort of freakish witchcraft- stop.

2) You really should get help. Seriously. I’m not being a bitch, I’m not saying this for Digg votes, but really, get some.

3) Good job if you do practice voo doo, I have pneumonia. Even now?

4) Don’t blame Steph- I wrote this whole thing all by mahself. You’ve got to give me credit, it’s funny, right? Right?

So what are two girls who should be on a fun roadtrip to SXSW but are now stranded in Jersey to do? Go party with John Raser Wooooooooooooooooooo! We’ve got until Friday morning to get to Austin, and it’s Wednesday, plenty of time…so…we…think.

We spend 2 days in NY, go to Party for a Purpose, drink, do not do touristy NY things because everyone decides drinking is a better idea, and then book flights. Except- of course- flights into Austin are booked, so we have to fly into San Antonio. No biggie, right? It’s an hour drive, we’ll be in Austin by 1pm Friday, and the flights were cheaper then the gas to Austin would’ve been. BAHHHHHHH!

We leave Raser’s party around 2-3am-ish, our flight to TX is at 6am. Good call. Steph gets locked out of the hotel room because I am in a coma, then I get the #!$%# scared out of me by her alarm because I don’t even know anyone else came back to the room, but we get to the airport. Our flight stops in Atlanta, and I almost miss the connection waiting in line for food, but we get to San Ant. We get to the Avis counter- yay Avis, for not charging for a 1-way rental…to find out that because I do not own credit cards (they are bad news for me), they want to charge a $400 deposit for the car. I do not have $400 in my account at this point because I spent who knows how much getting to NY-NJ-NY-Atlanta-San Antonio. No problem- Steph will rent the car. Wait…wait…Steph is 24…no can do without a co-signer/deposit my friends. WHAT?! Every other car rental company is either sold out, or does not allow rentals dropped off in Austin because they don’t have bases there. Fine, FINE. I’ll drive back and fly from San Antonio. Whatever. I go to the convenient little Chase ATM in the airport to deposit my client check so that said deposit can be held- nope. No go. No deposits at airport ATMs, must go to bank. Where is the bank? Outside of the airport. Take a cab to the bank, deposit the check. Check not available for 2 business days. Awesomeness.

I’m not even going to tell you how we got to Austin, but we did FINALLY end up getting there around 5pm- only about 2 hours after our road trip BFF Ann. Ha! We saved money and crazy.

I can’t believe I’m still writing this story, let alone that you’re still reading it, but here goes the rest. You’re almost done. Promise.

Steph and I decide we’ve had enough of all the random trip excitement, let’s fly home. She goes to book a flight…and gets her confirmation…for March 31^st. For those not familiar with SXSW, the interactive portion ends on the 16^th- the whole conference itself wraps up on the 21^st- no reason to stay til the 31^st- except that’s what her ticket says. She calls to switch it- and they do- for a 1 way to Houston. Apparently, no one wants her to leave the state. Unfortunate because she only brought one suitcase. They also won’t book the rest of her flight when she calls again because she has a hold or 12 on her card from the car rental place from before they found out she was under 25.

I’m pretty sure she’s home now, she says she is. It could be a demon texting me from her phone. We had planned to do an amazing video, discussing the entire thing, because I’m sure there’s things we’re leaving out, but we can’t. Why?

The whole trip, I was extremely exhausted and kept leaving the parties way early and catching naps if I could between meetings. The last night, I came down with a fever and terrible cough. I have pneumonia. Yup, perfect end to a perfect trip. I’m writing this from bed, and can’t film a video, because if I talk at all I sound terrible and go into a coughing fit. So I’m sorry I can’t entertain you with my fabulous look I’m rocking right now- because I know you’d be dying to join me in bed (gotta love the 80s ponytail and mismatched socks), but this story will have to do.

Since I feel like getting this story out is the equivalent of winning an Oscar, I’m going to treat it like one. Thank you to EJ for picking us up, you’re a lifesaver. You’re mom is awesome, she gave us wine. Thanks Raser for letting us crash in your room, and for sleeping on the floor, though I’m still not sure why you did. Thanks Taryn and Kristi for being fun roomies and putting up with our insanity. Thanks to Loren and Michelle for being so understanding about us arriving days late and several brain cells short. Steph- I don’t even know where to begin. Thank you for not killing me in my sleep, for starters. And for letting me be the first guest poster on your blog. And for being an amazing friend. I heart you lots. If anyone asks me to rate friendships, you’ll be the highest standard.

This is a guest post by Dina Riccobono from 1938 Media. Some names, locations, and identities have been changed to protect either the innocent or guilty. The story is 100% true.