OK, here's a complete recap of my trip to Connecticut:

Thursday Night.
I decided to spend the night at my friend Jody's in Pittsburgh because she's only 45 minutes away from the airport, and I hadn't seen here in awhile. Plus, she's in the process of selling her house/finding somwhere to move/and is happily, newly in love. All of which contribute our visits being fewer and farther between then they had been. Her boyfriend dave came over (he's a keeper), and we ordered pizza, had a few glasses of wine, and went to bed fairly early.

Friday.
Friday, I woke up at 5:00 am because I couldn't sleep. I contribute it to my crazy-ass work schedule, and the fact that I was SUPER EXCITED to see my friends in Connecticut. Let me explain these guys: The "group" in Connecticut consists of four great guys I was great friends with in college: Sivillo, Pat, Braband, and Kyle. After college, Kyle got hired at ESPN in Bristol, and the other three slowly followed, which is amazing and awesome. Now- all living in one house is Pat, Sivillo, Braband and his awesome girlfriend Ashley, and another girl, Nemi. Kyle's girlfriend (now fiance) moved up to CT and they live in an apartment (condo?) fairly close to everyone else.
Anyway- So, me being the time-Nazi I am, I left Jody's around 7:45 am to have tons of time to get to the place I was parking my car, get a ride to the airport, and make it to my gate on time. Things ran so smoothly, I was at my gate at 9:15. The plane didn't take off until 11:25. I sat and read and listened to my iPod, and chatted with a girl who was terrified of flying for the first time. She was flying to FRIGGIN' ALASKA to "bring her husband home". Apparently, they'd been on the outs for the last four months, he moved to Alaska to open a business, and left her in Pittsburgh with their THREE KIDS. I'm sorry, I know I'm a woman and don't really know how to take a hint from a guy, but DAMN. If someone moves to a part of the country that isn't even ATTACHED, I'm pretty sure I'd cut my losses.
On the plane, I was seated next to a crazy older woman who was a flight attendant and was on her way to work a flight in San Francisco. She was talking to the guys sitting next to us, and I overheard him say he was from Youngstown. So, being the bright and bubbly (ok, nosy) person I am, I started talking to him. Turns out he was taking the same connecting flight from Detroit to JFK that I was. We only had 45 minutes between planes in Detroit, so when the plane had to sit on the tarmac for 30 minutes to get de-iced, we were fairly certain we were going to miss our next flight. Both of us were pretty freaked out, and I went against Delta rules and quickly turned my phone on to shoot Pat a text NOT to leave for JFK yet, because I was pretty sure I'd be missing my flight out of Detroit. Pat is awesome, though, and when we landed in Detroit and I turned my phone back on, I had a text informing me he looked up my flight in Detroit, and it too had been delayed so we didn't have to stress. Drew (the Youngstown dude..who was all of 22 years old and thought I was a knowledgable and wordly woman) and I breathed a huge sigh of relief, and headed to an airport bar where we had a few beers and lunch. He was off to NYC to visit his girlfriend who was interning at MARC JACOBS so we had a lot to talk about. He was a cool kid. Inevitably, we lost track of time, and ended up running to our gate to catch our plane. He was in the back, I was in the front, and we never saw each other again.
So I get to the craziness that is the JFK Airport in New York City and find out Pat and Sivillo are close, but stuck in traffic, so I had a few minutes to wait. I sat in a phone booth and ate a rice krispy treat. By the time I was done, I headed outside, and I hear "WYNKOOP YOU HAVE TO RUN ACROSS THE STREET!!!" I look over and Sivillo and Pat and driving by the arrivals gate, and I took off, threw my bags in the car, and landed in the backseat. It was SOO GOOD TO SEE THEM. We headed back to CT and made it in about 2 hours.
As soon as we walked in, everyone was there getting ready to eat dinner. Nemi was cool enough to make spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread..so we all sat down and ate, then I had to hurry up and get changed because we were heading out for the night.
After the inevitable teasing from Steve Braband about me wearing a leather jacket ( was called The Fonze the rest of the night was was frequently greeted with a " Aaaayyyyyyy" and a thumbs up), we had a few beers at the house and headed down to downtown Hartford to a bar called Black Bear. I'll skip the details on the copious amounts of alcohol that was consumed because my mother reads this blog, but it was a fantastic fun night of dancing, drinking, and catching up. On the way back to the car, Pat thought he'd be funny and cute, and throw a huge handful of snow in my face. It hurt my feelings and I almost cried, but I vowed I wouldn't let Pat reduce me to tears during my trip. Not that he's mean, we just have always had the kind of relationship that involves yelling and crying (on my part) and harsh words. After we got back to the house, we stood outside and chatted for awhile, and I think I finally went to sleep at 4:30....to catch a few hours of zzzz's until the next round of festivities began on Saturday.

I'll pick up from there tomorrow...because clearly this blog is going way longer than I anticipated, and I'm lucky if you're still reading.