I Am My Father’s Daughter

So I’m posting this from my Crackberry, waiting to board my flight that was supposed to take off at 10pm.

I had decided to take the bus to the airport, since I have a lot more time than money at the moment. A cab is $35ish, the Super Shuttle is $21, and the bus was $1.25. The bus won out

(A side note; The flight at the gate next to me as I type this is flight 1492 to Columbus, Ohio. I smile every time they make a boarding announcement)

I had no idea how long the bus was going to take, and since I knew there were 3 buses involved, I figured anywhere from an hour and. a half to 3 hours.

Living by my father’s “Never ever ever be later than an hour early for a flight,” I figured, okay, my flight’s at ten, if I leave at 6, even worst-case-scenario, I’ll still be okay.

Joke was on me repeatedly; All three buses combined took exactly one hour, and the only people in front of me at security were the entire Old Dominion University women’s basketball team.

I got to my gate at 7:20. As I type this, it’s now almost 10:40, and our pilots just got here after being stuck in LA traffic for 2 hours.

That’s still not even the holdup: The flight attendants were coming in from Salt Lake City, where there is currently a fairly large snowstorm. Between the snow and the de-icing, they’re still 15 minutes from even getting to our gate, let alone being ready to have the boarding process begin.

The other issue is that, to try and tire myself out so I could sleep on the plane, I woke up super-early today. Now, as the plane should be somewhere over Nevada, I’m practically falling asleep in the astoundingly uncomfortable airport chair.

The waiting lounge is filling with passengers for the next flight scheduled for this gate (going to Guatemala City), and everyone’s getting just a liiiiittle cranky.

I just want to get to Connecticut so I can commence complaining about how goddamn cold it is.

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