Yesterday was quite pontentially one of the worst days of my life. Granted, the lack of sleep definitely tipped the misery scale past bearable into the red zone. Looking back, the events themselves aren't completely horrid, but I cried in an airport. For those of you who actually know me well, go ahead and laugh, because I'm sure that sight was beyond hilarious. I. Cried. In. An. Airport. I front of people. HAHAHAHAHAHHA. Shit.
We make it to the airport in Barcelona, after a slight fiasco of losing our tourdirector. That was nothing compared to the events that later unfolded. We arrive and check in, but one of my tickets is missing. I ask the man at the counter, and he explains that because my flight was delayed from Barcelona to Philly, then the chances were so slim of making my connecting flight, that US Airways rebooked that part of my trip for the next day. Well. Crap. There is nothing they can do there, so I continue onward to my gate to try and grab some shuteye. Did I mention we got up at 5:45am to make it to the airport?
I grabbed some Mickey D's, and let me tell you. The orange juice was like dripping heaven's bathwater into my mouth. They have a orange squeeze machine, so each glass is freshly squashed orange. Delicious. I make it to my gate, and lay on the floor and proceeded to pass out. Fine.
The flight was delayed three hours. Gag me with a spoon. We finally embark on our nine hour transatlantic flight, which had a surprising amount of leg room. There was some turbulance, and apparently I looked terrified, because the young man next to me leans over and whispers, "Just pretend it's a roller coaster sweetie." It was really a nice gesture, but I don't like people pointing things like that out to me, so I was probably much ruder than I meant to be. All social etiquette goes out the window when I fly, I've never been a big fan of it. The aerospace engineer who's afraid of flying. Ironic? Shutup.
We make it to Philly. And I missed my flight. Awessooommme. I go through the monotony of customs and picking up my baggage dot dot dot. I finally make it to a gate agent, who was less than helpful. They told me I would have to wait for the next flight out. In 24 hours. Maybe that wouldn't have been the end of the world. But I was exhausted and I wanted to go home. I told them they were going to get me to Anchorage. Apparently 19 year old girls don't make demands of them often, because they were quite taken aback. They told me it wasn't possible, there were no flights. At this point, I am beyond irritated. Do I really need to do their job for them? I asked them if they had any flights to Seattle or Salt Lake. They did, but no connections to Anchorage from their. I politely told them I was switching carriers, and only then did they start to make things happen. They got me on a flight to Seattle, but from there said the only connecting flight was the next day at 6am. Screw it. I knew as long as I got to Seattle, everything would be okay. I'd deal with whatever there. And if all else failed, Seattle has seats without armrests, so you can lay across three and it makes for the perfect makeshift sleep. The book me on the next flight. I'm pretty sure it was just to spite me, because it left in half an hour and I still had to go through security. I make it through security, the line was horrendous. I then call my father to fill him in on what was happening. Keep in mind, I havn't slept. As I'm talking and trying to find my terminal, I walk out of the secured area. What. The. Frack. How the hell did I do that? My Dad got to hear some colorful language on the phone before I hung up. This is the point where I started crying. Not to gain sympathy or attract any special attention of favors. But there comes a point when a person just snaps. And my own stupidity was the perfect catalyst. I had to go back through security again. Fuck. At this point, the plane is boarding and I am running. I make it by last call, and get to board.
I get to Seattle and find a ticket agent. I tell them my dilemna and ask to be placed on the next flight to Anchorage, whenever that may be. There was one at 10:10pm. It was now 8:40pm. Perfeecct. Except because US Airways is completely incompetent, I had to leave the secured area, go pick up my baggage, re-check in at Alaska Air, and go back through security. I hate my life. Alaska Airlines saved me. I found an airline agent and explained what was happening, and I don't think she has even felt so bad for a person, because I was a mess. She got me to the front of the line and through security. I make it to the train to get to the N gates. I turn around, and who else could it be but my mother. Turns out, we had the same flight to Anchorage. But she was in first class. And I was not. But she did buy me dinner! And I got to Anchorage around 1am Alaska time. Being 5am East Coast time. Being noon Barcelona time. I love traveling.
All in all, I got to empty my backpack through security four times in one day. The only solace I can take in this fiasco, is that I had my Snuggie, which makes sleeping on a plane quite lovely. I only had a window seat once though, SEA to ANC. Best three hour sleep of my life. I made it home, got to my lovely bed. I wasn't particularly tired at this point so I turned to my best friend Ambien and dozed into oblivion. Today was my first day back in Alaska. I watched Shrek in 3-D and made it to Kaladis, which as far as I'm concerned is the best coffee shop in the world. It's been a great day.
In about a week and a half I leave civilization for our commercial fishing site. I think I'll keep a blog there. I like listening to my own thoughts. They're wonderful. And, fishing is the most outrageous six weeks of my life. In the past I have: tangled my hand in a pulley and gone to the ER, broken a hand, was about a second away from catching our WWII truck on fire, participated in Flounder Wars, watched my brother aim fireworks at his best friend on the 4th of July...the list is the definition of infinity. So stay tuned for more fun filled times!