Où sont mes baggages!?

I have arrived in Massachusetts, thanks to a miraculous woman at one of the dozens of United Airlines counters in O'Hare. The people at O'Hare remain true to their word. I have no doubts that that place is indeed the busiest airport in the world.

My flight to Manchester was delayed many multiple times before it was finally cancelled. Indeed, I'm not sure how even Boston was able to clear the massive amounts of snow from their runways in time for planes to land. I spoke to a woman at a localized counter in lieu of standing in a customer service line that was quite literally a quarter mile long and two to three people thick. Having observed many harried passengers and employees alike, I decided that good humor and a smile are really the weaponry of the cunning when it comes to getting your way in the airport. I'd watched the poor woman at my chosen United counter get harassed by anxious and irritated travelers with a variety of twangy and lilted voices. I approached her with sympathy and politely explained my situation and my hope that I'd be able to put on stand by for the next flight to Boston. She didn't say much, but tapped on her little computer furiously, ripped my boarding pass to Manchester in half and promptly issued me a new ticket. I'd just witnessed countless people get denied... probably for lack of manners, so I felt pretty special. I called the lady magical, wished her a happy holiday and danced my way over to a seat. There must have been hundreds of people-- maybe thousands with no flight in that concourse.

Anyway, I made it out of there. I'm not sure how-- I'm sure the winds of Chicago would have blown us all to hell if the plane had been any less stalwart. It was pretty thrilling either way. I'm not sure how I made it, but I did. Driving home (which usually takes 40 minutes) took us an hour and a half... people were driving through the slush like getting where they were going quickly was a matter of life or death haha... how ironic. The difference between here and Saint Louis? When people do it here, there aren't car crashes all over the road. There's something to be said for knowing how to handle in the snow pretty well at high speeds-- but there's also something to be said for the "i've never been in an accident so I probably never will" naïvety.

My brother is schlepping me up to Manchester to collect mes baggages perdues, probably not out of goodwill as much as a strong desire to show off his new method of transportation... 2009 WRX in gunmetal gray. A car well-suited to the perenially insane driver. Afterward, a sibling reunion of sorts will occur over lunch.

I think I'm going to Maine tomorrow to visit my grandmother. I haven't seen her in over a year-- probably more like two years. She's suffering from Alzheimers so I'm not sure she'll remember anything about me. It'll be good to see her regardless.

Anyway, huzzah-- I'm back in New England. Home. Off to collect the baggageses. 8')