Stranded

I don't travel that much (although I wish I did). I've had my share of flight delays but not because of severe weather. Until last Friday.

I had my flight booked the previous two weeks. Even had my friend in NYC make dinner plans that Friday (I was supposed to land shortly after 2pm). But the day before my departure, after watching the news, my gut feeling tells me: I won't make it to New York. I didn't sleep until after midnight - and somehow, the lack of any snow falling made me a tiny bit hopeful that maybe this time, the weatherman would be just as what he is known for - inaccurate.

When I woke up and looked outside (I can see the highway from my porch doors), I had an instant realization that my luck avoiding weather delays had run out. I should've crawled back into my warm bed and slept!

Hope is such a funny thing when you let it burn. So I went to the airport despite all my neurons firing: "This is stupid, you know". As I checked in, my flight details screamed: DELAYED. I wondered how long will it take before it says CANCELED.

So I waited. I learned it's not as fun to people watch in the GR airport than O'Hare. I started reading "I Love You, Beth Cooper" by Larry Doyle and was close to half-way when we were asked to board!

Hope is such a painfully funny thing when despite all odds you let it burn. While inside the plane, I felt like I was a captive, my rational side reprimanding: "You should have stayed home". I kept reading. Then my plane actually began to leave the gate, then sat on the Tarmac with the pilot reassuring that after de-icing and plowing, we should be off in 40 minutes.

Fifty minutes passed. And another 30. That's when I took the shots. That's when I finally listened to my gut and decided that I will go back home (when the pilot announced we are heading back to the gate, I honestly wanted to yell: "You moron, how could you possibly think we could take off in this condition?").

So I went back home. It was almost 2pm. I was famished (I had planned to eat something when I got to my connection in Cleveland). And I was exhausted. So I napped.

When I woke up 2 hours later, I learned I missed noticing a text message from the only person I had been wanting to hear from all day.

Darn.

Hope is most painful when you realize it was all for naught.

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Pictures taken from seat 8C (Continental flight bound to Cleveland) on December 19, 2008, Grand Rapids Airport