Alright, so for those of you who don't know, I am spending my holiday in Cambod-I mean, Scotland...well, if you planned to travel internationally this season, I hope you decided against it because delays and cancellations marred my trip beyond repair...
I started my journey in Noho, Mass--leaving school and heading to the Manchester airport in New Hampshire to catch my flight to Newark, NJ...and then connecting to a flight that would bring me to Glasgow. With delays I was unable to connect to the Glasgow flight and therefore troubleshot a new itinerary while still in Manchester, which would bring me from Newark to London and then to Edinburgh. My agent was nuts and nearly broke down in tears two or three times while I maintain a calm composure, content with being done with finals and getting the hell out of the states for a month. Well, the agent not ONLY was crazy but also incredibly bad at his job and gave me 30 minutes to catch my plane to Heathrow (which included re-checking in). Naturally this didn't happen and after reaching Newark at 8 pm and missing the 7:45 allnighter to London I broke. They offered me a distress hotel but with barely enough funds to cover my vacation (and feeling quite shit about it as well) I choked on my tears and set forthe to seek my revenge upon Continental Airlines for hiring such a dimwitted scumbag. I waited on line for 25 minutes waiting to speak to a representative meanwhile I was exhausted, weary, hungry and wanting to lay down.
A bald man approached me and asked me what I needed. This is when the water works start and all I can muster are the words: "My day has been fucked" (when I recanted this story to James, he scolded me for using profanity and told me to watch my language...sod off, james). I try to explain the story but am so worked up that I just resorted to working the sympathy card and he comforted me and assured me that "things would get worked out"--which they did. I got put up at the Newark HoJo (not quite posh but clean and warm) where I could get room service, a hot shower and a good nights sleep.
I woke up mildly refreshed and entirely ready to submit to the day. I could not leave Newark until 7:45 pm and so I decided to stay around the hotel until check out and then hang out at the airport, watching people and mooching free wireless. I love watching people in international airports and guessing where they are from--I had tweeked my rational and feel confident in my skills of differentiation. I met a drunk lady in the airport who told me that European guys are > American men and that I should "hook up with some"--after all, I am young and they wear tight pants and cuter shoes than the men at home. I smiled, nodding and doubted that much "hooking up" was in my future--not with the two huge zits I had now developed on my face (one named "Manchester," the other "Newark"--stress is a killer to my skin).
I boarded the plane finally (after yet another delay), and can I tell you--flight attendents are bitches. I had yet to meet a sincerely helpful or amiable one my entire journey here. Sad because I do so like their uniforms. I popped a sleeping pill and slept through the remainder of my flight (after watching Hairspray which was much better than I thought it would be though it didn't compare to the Waters' version). I sat next to a couple who were very cute and romantic but it emphasized the fact that I was traveling alone and felt like I was intruding on their lovefest. I hated everything they stood for and prayed that I would not have to experience the loneliness of those moments ever again.
Sleepily, I emerged from the plane in damp and foggy Scotland (Edinburgh) sans luggage and sans dignity. I spoke to the immigration dude who asked me what I intended to do with my degree--I died a little on the inside because I don't have an answer for that at 3 pm let alone 3 AM...he was cute though--too bad about "Manchester" and "Newark" ruddying up my complexion which is usually a nice peaches and cream. I should have included that though I dont think he would have been impressed.
Anyway, now I am here...with no Christmas presents because they are completely MIA (probably in Heathrow, where they rerouted my flight and then canceled my connections out to Edinburgh)...I am glad that I don't have to do that again for a month but I also have heard that there are planned airline strikes for the days I am due home...oh yay, I can hardly wait... /sarcasm
I started my journey in Noho, Mass--leaving school and heading to the Manchester airport in New Hampshire to catch my flight to Newark, NJ...and then connecting to a flight that would bring me to Glasgow. With delays I was unable to connect to the Glasgow flight and therefore troubleshot a new itinerary while still in Manchester, which would bring me from Newark to London and then to Edinburgh. My agent was nuts and nearly broke down in tears two or three times while I maintain a calm composure, content with being done with finals and getting the hell out of the states for a month. Well, the agent not ONLY was crazy but also incredibly bad at his job and gave me 30 minutes to catch my plane to Heathrow (which included re-checking in). Naturally this didn't happen and after reaching Newark at 8 pm and missing the 7:45 allnighter to London I broke. They offered me a distress hotel but with barely enough funds to cover my vacation (and feeling quite shit about it as well) I choked on my tears and set forthe to seek my revenge upon Continental Airlines for hiring such a dimwitted scumbag. I waited on line for 25 minutes waiting to speak to a representative meanwhile I was exhausted, weary, hungry and wanting to lay down.
A bald man approached me and asked me what I needed. This is when the water works start and all I can muster are the words: "My day has been fucked" (when I recanted this story to James, he scolded me for using profanity and told me to watch my language...sod off, james). I try to explain the story but am so worked up that I just resorted to working the sympathy card and he comforted me and assured me that "things would get worked out"--which they did. I got put up at the Newark HoJo (not quite posh but clean and warm) where I could get room service, a hot shower and a good nights sleep.
I woke up mildly refreshed and entirely ready to submit to the day. I could not leave Newark until 7:45 pm and so I decided to stay around the hotel until check out and then hang out at the airport, watching people and mooching free wireless. I love watching people in international airports and guessing where they are from--I had tweeked my rational and feel confident in my skills of differentiation. I met a drunk lady in the airport who told me that European guys are > American men and that I should "hook up with some"--after all, I am young and they wear tight pants and cuter shoes than the men at home. I smiled, nodding and doubted that much "hooking up" was in my future--not with the two huge zits I had now developed on my face (one named "Manchester," the other "Newark"--stress is a killer to my skin).
I boarded the plane finally (after yet another delay), and can I tell you--flight attendents are bitches. I had yet to meet a sincerely helpful or amiable one my entire journey here. Sad because I do so like their uniforms. I popped a sleeping pill and slept through the remainder of my flight (after watching Hairspray which was much better than I thought it would be though it didn't compare to the Waters' version). I sat next to a couple who were very cute and romantic but it emphasized the fact that I was traveling alone and felt like I was intruding on their lovefest. I hated everything they stood for and prayed that I would not have to experience the loneliness of those moments ever again.
Sleepily, I emerged from the plane in damp and foggy Scotland (Edinburgh) sans luggage and sans dignity. I spoke to the immigration dude who asked me what I intended to do with my degree--I died a little on the inside because I don't have an answer for that at 3 pm let alone 3 AM...he was cute though--too bad about "Manchester" and "Newark" ruddying up my complexion which is usually a nice peaches and cream. I should have included that though I dont think he would have been impressed.
Anyway, now I am here...with no Christmas presents because they are completely MIA (probably in Heathrow, where they rerouted my flight and then canceled my connections out to Edinburgh)...I am glad that I don't have to do that again for a month but I also have heard that there are planned airline strikes for the days I am due home...oh yay, I can hardly wait... /sarcasm
tunnel_vision:
I've had a few of my flight plans get fucked over the years ... I hope the rest of your trip is more enjoyable.