I wasn’t at all amused when my alarm clock went off this morning (I set one myself!), not because I was getting up a bit early, but because it was my last day in Florida. It was sunny and warm already and I knew that at home, it would be bleak and desolate as it seems to be so often in my mind. I know that we have lovely springs, summers, and autumns, but I hate the winter so much that it has burned itself into my mind as a constant misery.

It was absolutely perfect outside and I went for a long stroll by myself along the beach. I walked quickly, as I like to do, and there was nobody on the beach, aside from two elderly British women who were wearing bonnets. They amused me.

It seemed that every grey shell in the sea had decided to spit itself out of the water and onto the sand for my greedy fingers to pick up and take home with me. I loved it.

Before long, I had made it back to the hotel and put the shells in a ziplock bag. My bags were already packed from the previous evening, so all I had to do was slowly roll them down to the car, wishing desperately that there was someway that we had miscounted and that we were really staying on for three more months. Or, better yet, I was staying on for three more month — for my health — and everybody else was headed back to Iowa. But it wasn’t to be this time around.

We all got into the car and headed off for the airport, an hour-long drive that I found cruel and unusually painful. It had to be the prettiest day that Florida has ever seen and I had to be stuck in a tiny car with the air conditioner freezing my sensitive skin. We passed gorgeous homes on the way out of Sarasota. It was hard to pick a favorite, but I did. It was a stunning white house with bold turquoise blue shutters. I found of picture of it on Google Earth for you all to see, though the photo does it no justice when compared to seeing it in person.

An hour later we were rolling our bags into the airport. My vacation was over the second we passed the electric doors. My only excitement now was hoping I would be selected to receive the full body scan, but even that wasn’t to be. I would love to go through that scanner, I want to see what I look like on their screen. I’d take a picture and use it as my FaceBook profile. How badass would that be?

When we checked in with Allegiant, they told us that they now used an open seating system because it saved them money. I’m not entirely sure how this saves them a penny, but I suppose somehow it does. I didn’t know what to think of this concept, and after experiencing it, I can say with a hundred percent certainty that I am not a fan, but more on this later.

We checked our luggage and went slowly through security. This was sadly uneventful, they didn’t even offer me a pat down. So disappointing.

After we had all gone through security we sat around for an hour. This is the worst part about flying, I think. Sitting around, trying to read or do something–anything. They had free wireless Internet, so I was able to download Body Talk Pt. 3 by Robyn, which had just come out. This slightly alleviated the sadness of my situation.

Jessica was hungry, of course, and went off to get some food. I hadn’t yet eaten today. Father then informed me, that the two of them had gotten up early in the morning to go to Waffle House. This bothered me for a multitude of reasons, least of all was why wasn’t I invited?

The people going back to Des Moines were annoying, as they always are, it seems that travelers to the Des Moines “International?” Airport are the rudest, loudest, most irritating travelers that are around. I plugged my headphones in and blocked them out.

Soon it was a mad dash for the plane. Few people had assigned seats so we were called up in groups and then pushed and shoved until we found our seats. Because of the confusion this caused, the plane was more than thirty minutes late to take off. The whole system seems to breed confusion, trickery, and wastes time. I was not a fan at all, and I think Allegiant will be getting a strongly worded letter by my vicious pen.

I got into my seat, and low and behold, who would sit right next to me? The fattest man in the world, wearing overalls, chewing tobacco firmly planted in his lip, with a waxed mustache. A WAXED MUSTACHE! People haven’t done that since the turn of the 19th Century! I wanted to scream and shout, but I suffered silently as his poorly managed odors and body kept inching towards me to me. Oh God, it was misery! What had I done to justify this punishment? He commented on every thing I did. He watched my movie. He read my book. He questioned my possessions! I wanted to open the door and jump out, parachute or not!

Finally, we began to descend and I saw the dead, brown, nasty terrain that composes Iowa. I felt like I was deflating. I couldn’t possibly be going here. This couldn’t possibly be my home. But it was, and before long we came to a screeching halt and were thrust out into the cold.

By now, I was starving, having only had a muffin on the plane, but before we could go to El Rodeo for dinner, Jessica had to go to the doctor to get medication for her shingles. Pa and I went to the World Market in the meantime and I bought a bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau for about ten dollars, seven less than what they wanted in Disney World. I look forward to trying it out, I read that 2010 is going to be a good year for it.

It was cold and dark as we pulled up to El Rodeo. I read their vegetarian menu and selected the mushroom quesadilla, which was very tasty. I was up in arms, though, when they had a dish made with shrimp on their vegetarian menu. Mother defensively tried to justify its being there, for some reason, but there is no reason for seafood to be on a meat-free menu!

We were all ready to be home, so we went and got Shadow and then took off for the house, only to find Granny sitting in the dark, hidden by the hood of her sweatshirt. It was creepy.

It sucks here.