Flying Home

After six months of living with the frogs, I found myself almost desperate for a little hometown glory. Baguette and brie no longer appealed to me, all I wanted was some Monk's french fries or Craving's Cafe.

Luckily I had already planned in advance and had a whole month and a half at home. July 20 couldn't come any quicker and when it finally did, I was at the airport a whole 2 hours in advance, praying I could make it on my flight to JFK... of course, I didn't. This is all because of my mom's good friend Dave. You see, Dave is a pilot for Delta and "hooks me up" with buddy passes. So let's just say I fly a lot cheaper round trip to and from France, which is great but that means I am also flying stand-by. Every other time I have flown there's been no problem and I have gotten right on the plane, but of course this wasn't the case, and I had to try and change my flight.

After a mad rush to find the correct agent, I was told I would have to find my baggage, take it all the way back to check-in and re-check it. I did this with a smile and a skip in my step, hoping with all my power that I would make it on a flight to the USA... anywhere. I didn't care where I went just as long as I was out of France and in the good ole US of A. Some how my amazing luck pulled through, and not only was I on a flight to Cincinnati Airport (which is in Kentucky) but I was also in First Class and treated like a princess (although the audio didnt work on my TV, but alas I can't have all the luck, right?)

Once at the Cincinnati Airport, I again waited my turn in the standby line for a flight to Philadelphia. There were 3 people in front of me and only 2 open spots. I kept hoping and praying for a connection to miss so that I too could be on that flight... my hopes were dashed and I was forced to call my mom and tell her that I was stuck in Cincinnati, unless I could find another airport closer to home to fly into. As luck would have it there were flights to Scranton, Lehigh Valley, and Harrisburg all leaving the airport at the same time at night. I had to decide which flight was my "best choice". I opted for Lehigh Valley, and sat and prayed that it would work out.

After 15 minutes of waiting in the terminal, I hear over the loud speaker, in a certain southern twangy but remotely ominous voice, that a tornado warning is in effect and the terminal must be evacuated... it appears my luck has definitely changed and for the worse...

So I grab my laptop, my leftover subway hoagie (my first expense in the USA) and my carry on bag and head down into the depths of the Cincinnati Airport. If I were a director and in need of a horror set, I think that the basement of that airport would be an ideal choice. Not only do the walls echo sounds, but you hear what I assume is water, dropping about every 4 seconds. The walls are covered in what could be asbestos as it continually flakes off whenever something touches it. The dank smell that accompanies an abandoned building clings to your clothing. For some reason, even the lighting adds to the movie appeal as it casts everyone in a jaundice murky pallor. As I sit and wait for what seems like hours (probably only 45 mins), I realize what a story this is... Seriously, who has been in the Cincinnati Airport basement, let alone any airport basement?

Once we're given the all clear, the thousands of stranded passengers march upstairs to wait for our planes to have clearance to fly once again. I'm again waiting for the all clear to board the plane and don't even find out til 5 mins after the plane was supposed to depart that I CAN fly to Lehigh Valley.

Finally after almost exactly 24 hours of trying to make it home, I am in my Dad's convertible comfortably riding back to my home...