The Deep Breath Before the Plunge
If you know anything, you know what the title means. If the reference is lost on you, I dub thee "lame". My journey from Minnesota to Oregon was definitely in the top 2 of all time worst personal worst plane trips. I was scheduled to leave minny at 8 and arrive in p-town at approximately noon (pst), with an annoying but necessary pit stop in Chicago in between. Though I arrived somewhat late to the predictably crowded airport, I managed to check in, and check for bombs fast enough to board the plane sans incident. We taxied from the gate, and sat on the tarmac for about half an hour, when the pilot announced that there was a dispute about the weight and balance of the plane, and that we were ordered to return to the gate. We did. Once this little issue was resolved, we took off for chi-town...about an hour late. Of course, I missed my connecting flight to Oregon. Pissed, I was directed to American Airlines' desk for rebooking. No more flights today from chicago to portland, but I there is something through Orange County. Yes THAT Orange County. The OC. What the FUCK?! I have to fly home through Newport, through Cali? Through the land of brooding Ryans, soon-to-be lesbian Marissas, cock-tease Summers, mom-o-phile Lukes, and me-in-the-future Sandys? I felt a combination of repulsion and exhileration. But, the flight wasn't for 3 hours, so I crammed a crappy 5 dollar chipoltle wannabe "beach burrito" down my gullet and read "Still Life With Woodpecker" (btw...Tom Robbins is an american Nabokov in that he eschews plot in favor of brilliantly composed sentences and colorful characters). Pretty much everyone in the airport was annoyed, tired, and semi-sui-homicidal (happy holidays!) when a big black airport maitenence worker strode up to the microphone (you know, the one the desk people use to board the plane) wished everyone a happy holidays, and then broke into beautiful song. He was an AMAZING singer. There was a huge crowd around him, and when he was done everyone was hugging him and shaking his hand. It put a smile on my face, and everything didn't seem so bad. Amazing how a good song can do that. Maybe I should buy a CD. Never gonna happen. (As a brief tangent...am I the only person in the world who doesn't own a CD? I think its possible. How has this happen? How, in my 22 years of life, have I not come to own a single compact disc? Matty, help!) Anyway, the rest of the story isn't that interesting. I flew to the OC where is was warm, but Caleb Nichol and Julie managed to NOT show up. Then, on to Portland, where , sure enough, my baggage was lost. Thankfully, it was delivered at about 3am that night. Somehow, I still haven't showered since Minny, even though I've gone to Christmas Eve service, and Christmas dinner since then. I'm completely disgusting. Matty: It's not stealing since I gave you proper citation. This Will Never Happen: I will watch ROTK: EE and be bored. Someone in my family will give a gift to another member, and then NOT have to justify why the reciever should like it.

