Stuck
And I don't mean that metaphorically (which actually makes me feel a little better).
But I am stuck in St. Louis for the night, when I should be home by now. I've only been gone since Sunday, but it feels like weeks, and I practically cried when I found out I couldn't get a flight out tonight owing to bad whether back home. So here I am, in another Hampton Inn (a good chain! I just left one yesterday morning, and there is impressive consistency across different hotels), grateful that at least I'm a little obsessive and always pack extra underwear when I travel, just in case something like this happens.
And, really, I should be grateful that my trip to Iowa didn't coincide with the tornado, and that, even if it had, I was far enough outside of the affected area that I probably wouldn't have even noticed (that reality, of course, did not keep me from waking up repeatedly last night in my hotel in Cedar Rapids, certain that I was hearing evacuation sirens and certain that I was completely screwed, being on the twelfth floor).
[quick tangent: my TV seems to have gremlins causing the channel to change all on its own, and it's just switched to CNN, and although I'm not sure why Scott McClellan's new book is considered "breaking news," I am startled anew by how alike he and Mark McClellan look. I just had to double-check that they are not twins (they are not).]
And I was grateful that the first half of my travels went so smoothly: The Smelmooo and I hit almost no traffic during our drive down to Virginia for J and M's wedding on Sunday, and had a lovely stay there. I had an easy ride to the airport yesterday, with a lovely shuttle driver from Cairo, who told me about his family, including two small kids, who are still in Egypt until he can make enough money to bring them over to the States (I think that was not a ploy to get a bigger tip out of me, but if it was, it worked), and who talked passionately about the U.S. presidential campaign. I was able to catch earlier flights out of both Dulles and St. Louis yesterday to get me to Iowa in time for dinner and a movie (Recount on HBO, which I thought was "eh" despite some pretty good reviews). And even though I was a few days early for Brett Michaels' stop in Iowa (tickets still available, although the show will be sold out! I was reminded by every one of the 20 or so television and radio ads I caught during my 12 or so waking hours in Iowa), and even though I opted not to visit the real-life Field of Dreams because it seemed too far away, especially when I didn't have my camera, my time in Iowa overall was really good.
And even the flight cancellation wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been. The airline didn't delay it and delay it and delay it until the wee hours; they called it around 7:30, and were pretty helpful in sharing information with those of us who were stuck. The only hiccup was a jerky cab driver on the way from the airport, but otherwise it's been a surprisingly good trip. Except that I was really, really ready to call it a day, and even if I were spending the night at the Ritz, I would still be feeling a little wistful that I'm not at home.
The only thing more exciting than going home? An all-new season of The Mole!!! I'm so sad that my boyfriend Anderson Cooper isn't hosting, and it may suck, but I'm really enjoying the anticipation, at least.
But I am stuck in St. Louis for the night, when I should be home by now. I've only been gone since Sunday, but it feels like weeks, and I practically cried when I found out I couldn't get a flight out tonight owing to bad whether back home. So here I am, in another Hampton Inn (a good chain! I just left one yesterday morning, and there is impressive consistency across different hotels), grateful that at least I'm a little obsessive and always pack extra underwear when I travel, just in case something like this happens.
And, really, I should be grateful that my trip to Iowa didn't coincide with the tornado, and that, even if it had, I was far enough outside of the affected area that I probably wouldn't have even noticed (that reality, of course, did not keep me from waking up repeatedly last night in my hotel in Cedar Rapids, certain that I was hearing evacuation sirens and certain that I was completely screwed, being on the twelfth floor).
[quick tangent: my TV seems to have gremlins causing the channel to change all on its own, and it's just switched to CNN, and although I'm not sure why Scott McClellan's new book is considered "breaking news," I am startled anew by how alike he and Mark McClellan look. I just had to double-check that they are not twins (they are not).]
And I was grateful that the first half of my travels went so smoothly: The Smelmooo and I hit almost no traffic during our drive down to Virginia for J and M's wedding on Sunday, and had a lovely stay there. I had an easy ride to the airport yesterday, with a lovely shuttle driver from Cairo, who told me about his family, including two small kids, who are still in Egypt until he can make enough money to bring them over to the States (I think that was not a ploy to get a bigger tip out of me, but if it was, it worked), and who talked passionately about the U.S. presidential campaign. I was able to catch earlier flights out of both Dulles and St. Louis yesterday to get me to Iowa in time for dinner and a movie (Recount on HBO, which I thought was "eh" despite some pretty good reviews). And even though I was a few days early for Brett Michaels' stop in Iowa (tickets still available, although the show will be sold out! I was reminded by every one of the 20 or so television and radio ads I caught during my 12 or so waking hours in Iowa), and even though I opted not to visit the real-life Field of Dreams because it seemed too far away, especially when I didn't have my camera, my time in Iowa overall was really good.
And even the flight cancellation wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been. The airline didn't delay it and delay it and delay it until the wee hours; they called it around 7:30, and were pretty helpful in sharing information with those of us who were stuck. The only hiccup was a jerky cab driver on the way from the airport, but otherwise it's been a surprisingly good trip. Except that I was really, really ready to call it a day, and even if I were spending the night at the Ritz, I would still be feeling a little wistful that I'm not at home.
The only thing more exciting than going home? An all-new season of The Mole!!! I'm so sad that my boyfriend Anderson Cooper isn't hosting, and it may suck, but I'm really enjoying the anticipation, at least.
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