So, most of you are probably wondering if I made it safe to France and if I am now on the farm. Well now, you will just have to read and see. Let me start off by saying that yesterday’s experience was one that you would expect to see in a movie. It all started when my dad and I left at 12:30(with my plane departing at 5). Since I was rushing to leave(as the inescapable tardy Anderson gene goes), the thought of food was basically nonexistent. Thus, for those who know me, once we got an hour into the drive, I needed food. We stopped at a bagel and deli place, ordered to go, and were back on the road. Everything was fine with our time schedule until we reached the George Washington Bridge- accident #1. As we all know, with an accident comes traffic, and this specific traffic was not even moving 10 mph. Detour time! We were able to avoid some of the GW traffic and then we hit Grand Central Parkway – accident#2. Both my dad’s blood pressure as well as my own were definitely higher than normal. We had 7.3 miles to go and it was 2:45 pm. Doesn’t sound too bad, but wait – it gets better. After finally getting through that terrible traffic, we finally got on Van Wyck Expressway to connect us to JFK airport-accident #3. If there was a picture to describe the expressions of those in the car, you would see it. In the driver’s seat, there was a man with a somewhat calm facial expression. I will tell you, this was not the case within: blood pressure through the roof, bombs going off inside, and overall great nervous tension. He may have lost a few clumps of hair too. This was my dad. Over in the passenger seat, you’d have seen a girl sitting back, sitting up, feet up, feed down, looking at her phone, closing her eyes to avoid stressing out anymore from the surrounding speedy drivers, but then opening them to be an extra pair of driving eyes, holding her cross necklace and praying, etc, etc, etc. Inside, my anxiety was through the roof so much that I think I aged a year. After that episode, we finally made it to the airport at 3:50. Our supposed two hour trip turned into a 3½ hour trip. Moreover, I accidentally directed us into terminal 7 rather than terminal 8, for check-in. Here’s where stupidity comes in: you’re supposed to check-in at least an hour before departure. How was I supposed to know something so simple? How could I have been aware of this task which was always done for me in the past? Well, once I was at terminal 8 and completed my check-in, I received a slip: “You have checked in too late, see an agent for assistance”. I had checked in 7 minutes too late. Let me say it again. I checked in 7, yes 7, minutes too late. I couldn’t believe it. I called my dad up, he came back, and we waiting in line to see what they could do. The next flight was at 9pm and was booked. After that? Tomorrow at 5pm for a $250 charge. Oh, but I could have left yesterday for $3300(who would pay such a crazy amount?!) So after many tears, making several phone calls, and waiting, we were on our way home. And the car ride home was no less relaxing than the ride there. We were in an evil, merciless thunder and lightning storm with torrential rain, causing us to be yet again on the edge. What kind of a movie is this?? Isn’t there only supposed to be one climax and then everything regresses back down? No, we were the lucky ones to have two. Yay us. So, about mid-way through the ride, the storm calmed down a bit. Once we got to Milford, we decided to eat out, visit my brother/sister-in-law/nieces/nephew, and then go home. My dad went to bed, my mom came over, and my friend Becky slept over. Since I missed my plane, it was guaranteed that I would miss my train. So I hopped on the internet and was fortunate to be able to exchange my train tickets, paying only about 15$ extra. However, I still have to file a claim to my travel insurance and see if they can refund the 250$ for my plane. Lesson learned? Leave 12 hours in advance! That way, if we get lost, get hungry, hit 10 accidents, run into a tree, get attacked by rabid squirrels, or what have you, I can still make it to my plane. This morning, we left at 7am so that my dad can run errands for his work. The rain still hates us. In the end, maybe I was not supposed to be on that plane/train. God works in mysterious ways, right? Well, here’s to hoping that everything goes according to plan the second time around. (Ps I would like to thank my dad for helping with all of the crazy annoying driving and fees, etc. I could not have done this without you dad<3)
Donc, c’est la vie.