So Here's the Rub...

Traveling is exhausting. Adventure and cultural traveling is even more exhausting than your usual beach or camping vacation. Traveling in a language you don't even have a basic grasp of is headache-inducing. Traveling at altitude is exhausting. Traveling while sick is inherantly exhausting, and completely emotionally draining. Throwing all of yourself into a magical day at a place you never imagined you'd visit is thrilling, if not entirely exhausting.

I got up this morning, bright and early to go to the Isla Traquille. I asked for directions to the port from the hostel owner, and while he had been so helpful the night before, he lit into me about how crazy I was for trying to go without a tour, expecially since my spanish is SO horrible. Even after yesterday spent entirely on a bus driving from Cusco to Puno resting up from the dramatic efforts I made at Machu Picchu, I clearly had not recovered from my sickness and exhaustion. So someone calling me crazy, telling me how stupid I was, how much of an awful American who speaks no spanish I was... hitting at all of the things I feel like could be very, very true... I finally lost it. I ended up sleeping most of the day to stop from sobbing, reading a bit, and finally dragged my butt out of bed and made my way to a VERY gringo restaurant where I had an amazing eggplant parmasana style sandwich and chocolate caliente.

Luckily, it didn't start raining until I got back. It's hailing and dumping rain right now, thunder and lightning echoing in the distance. It¡s the first rain I've seen since I got to Peru, and damn it feels like home. The smell of it hitting the warm pavement, the sound of it on the plastic roof over the courtyard, the sparkling underneath the streetlamps. It feels like a little piece of Seattle.

So tomorrow I won't ask for directions. I know how to get to the port. I know how to ask for a ticket to the Isla Uros. I know how to manage my time, how to get food, how to get to the bus station, how to get through the last 4 days I have in Peru. I know that I can do this, as I have been doing it, even completely debilitated by 4 kinds of sickness. The well had simply run dry today, but maybe through a little food, a little chocolate, a little more sleep, and a little rain reminding me of home, there will be something there for me to pull from tomorrow.

Up and Moving

Ever since I got to Cusco, I've been fairly incapacitated. Instead of romping around the party town, I've been huddled in my bed, sleeping off this evil cold. However, last night in a moment of panic and utter frustration with my body's blatent betrayal, and after a helpful calm-down talk with Tom back home (skype is the best thing to come out of the internet revolution, I swear), I finally came to my senses and gave up. There would be no chance that I was going to be able to make any kind of trek to Machu Picchu. Hell, I could hardly walk around Cusco. Machu Picchu was going to be more than enough. So I walked back into my room, and realized that I had to talk to someone. I needed some kind of help. I hated admitting that, even to myself.

My roommate was in the room, and somehow we started talking. Soon enough, we were going out to dinner (juice and soup, exactly what I needed!), and it turned out that she had gone to Machu Picchu the route that I was going to have to resort to--taking the train and staying in the town of Aguas Calientes. Simply talking to her, having her show me the websites (which ultimately wouldn't work, but still...), and hearing her tips for getting the right tickets and buying the bus ticket the night before, and where to catch the bus to get to Ollanta, FINALLY I could figure out the plan that I hadn't expected to have to fall back on. So in the morning, I went down to the computers to reserve my tickets, and couldn't pay for ANYTHING. So I had a mini-jog around town in my messy hair, glasses, flip-flops, half-pajamas and general frustration (these tickets are HIGH demand, and thus very time sensative), to find the train office, then the right bank (third one was a charm, ugh, who has 3 different banks on one corner?!) to pay for my Machu Picchu reservation. Back at the hostel, at least one part of the plan in place, I crashed again for a couple of hours.

When I went down to see about bus tickets and figure out a time frame for the rest of my journey (I definitely want to be back in Lima in time to get the hell out of here), I once again struggled with online purchases, even on the english page! But I figured out a good general schedule to get myself to Puno, and back through Arequipa on my way to Lima by bus. I might even splurge on the fancy lower level for the overnight long bus from Arequipa to Lima! While at the computers, I ran into Sandra again, and we ended up going to lunch together, then to a crazy market and general wanderings around Cusco. So at least I've done a little shopping, a little wandering, and a little sight-seeing. Tomorrow I'll probably do a little walking tour of Cusco in the morning (it's in the LP), then take the bus to Ollantaytambo, the jumping off place for my train the day after. This way, I'll finally get out of this hostel (not that it's not lovely) and get to explore a sleepy town a little. Then it's onwards to MP.

It feels really good to have a plan again. It helps me to focus when my body is rebelling like this. When I know I have to get to a place by a certain time, I don't end up hunkered down in my hostel reading for hours on end. I'm going to have seen everything that I really wanted to see (although, not the treks and not any of the fun stuff up north, but it's only 3 weeks afterall), and I think this thing can turn around. I definitely feel better, and with my hand-woven scarf around my neck, I feel a little more cozy. My friend has moved on to her further adventures, but I have my adventures, and endless people to meet along the way. I miss everyone back home though, and definitely think that next time, I'm going to drag someone along with me.

Overnight Adventure

My trip to colca canyon was definitely interesting... The bus driver was ranked one of the top 5 drivers tourstico, or at least so they said. The tour guide was great, speaking both English and Spanish. Within the first hour we had seen vicuñas in the reserve outside Arequipa (a wild south American cameloid, related to llama and alpaca). We climbed to 4900m (with a stop for matte de coca), and on the way, the guide gave us a lesson in how to chew coca leaves. I tried it (how scandalous!!) but mostly it just makes your mouth numb. Supposedly it helps with the altitude as well. 

The scenery was amazing--deserts covered in grass and rocky outcroppings, not too unlike Eastern Washington, although ringed by snow-capped volcanoes. 

And then we actually started climbing. Holy god. El elevatión no es mi amigo. I was huddled in the bus, light-headed and ready to puke my guts out by the time we traveled all the windy roads to the 4900m/16,000ft point. Coca helps, eh? Pffft, my sick ass it helps. At most of the stops past the pass i stayed in the bus.  I think the driver and guide were minutes from giving me oxygen, but my fingernails weren't too blue.  When we got into town for lunch, I stretched out in the minibus and napped, ate some crackers, and thanked my lucky stars that I brought my Nuun along. 

I was feeling better, and managed to go to the hot pools (probably not the best idea, but oh such an "experience" and the warmness was lovely) and managed to eat some soup and share some stuff with another American girl on the same tour for dinner. Then I took advil for my caffeine headache since I didn't have coffee and went to bed at 8pm. I'm such a party animal. 

Waking up at 4am to body pains, an awful headache and the realization that I had definitely eaten something wrong over the previous few days is not the way to enjoy a vacation. At this point, I realized there is probably not going to be a "treck" in me anytime soon, thus meaning that I don't get to go to Mach Pichu the fun ways. However, the inclusion of chewable pepto-bismal was easily the best packing decision I made. 

However, I managed to rally. I got myself moderately capable of walking downstairs, grabbed one of the hollow rolls they have here for breakfast, and avoided the jam. The long, bumpy, unpaved ride up to the canyon was not perfect, but breaks along the way made it bearable. We got to the condor point, and almost immediately two adult condors buzzed us. That was as good as it got though, and taking photos of animals that blend in rather well is hard. The guide offered a short hike along the rim of the canyon and I bucked up, went slow, took deep breaths, and went for the hike without incident. 

Lunch after the rickety bus ride back to Chivay seemed impossible, but soup here is usually really good, and they had chicken noodle on the menu. This time it did seem to make me feel better. I slept over the high elevation pass thanks to some of our tour-mates taking a different onward route. They had the bulk of the luggage, and without it I claimed the back of the bus bench seat, to no complaints. I think everyone understood. 

Now I am back in Arequipa with my tour friend for one more day and take the night bus to Cuzco tomorrow. Hopefully I don't get another round of altitude (or food) related fun. 

Trying to Stay Positive...

Snow driving is not so hard and it's beautiful

...except when the snow blows across the road and you can't see the road and your clenching the steering wheel so tightly your hands ache.

I'm flying home on a direct flight tomorrow

...from O'Hare with hundreds of canceled flights in the last two days and a huge cancellation backlog on the eastern seaboard.

I have a week off

...but two more days on the road, and I'm beyond exhausted.

I stayed in a hotel with this in the front lobby:

Yup. Nothing negative about that. :)

Dreams From a Different Bed

Sleeping in a different bed every night has it's effects, often in the form of crazy dreams. As most of you know, I've always been a rather... vivid dreamer. My imagination and subconscious seems to manage a rather convoluted set of highly justified and semi-plausible situations when I'm sleeping. I've had my fair set of BER dreams as well, with crazy registration table dramas or AV equipment malfunctions set to absurd levels. Usually these come when I'm more stressed out--before or after a large number day, when the travel logistics are more difficult than normal, or when my life just seems to be getting in the way of day to day activities.

I feel like I should be sharing some of these while I'm still having them. I had a particularly vivid dream, or rather nightmare, last night that I remember in full. Just a warning: it's definitely kind of a downer. It went like this:

I awake (in the dream) and pry my eyes apart, sighing to myself for sleeping in my contacts on a plane again. I have a full, 3-seat row on a wide body plane (3-5-3 seat configuration, one of those typical details that my brain finds so important to note) to myself and have been curled up resting. My parents and my sister are in the rows across the aisle from me. Slowly I realize that the plane's trajectory is off... We are listing heavily to the side at one moment, then jarred back to an awkward leveling off. In the dream I pull back and see the flaps of the plane, which are clearly wrong--sticking out at very weird and contradictory angles. The pilot comes on and explains, "Our navigation system appears to be malfunctioning. We are working to fix it as fast as we can. The fasten seatbelt sign has been turned on. Please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts" (Yes, I dream in airplane speak now.)

It is clear that the plane is on course to crash, soon. I remain calm, as do all of the other passengers (This is when I can tell that I am dreaming. I consciously choose to stay calm, as it is a dream, yet even then my stomach is sinking). After rocking and rolling through the flight, the risk of crashing is imminent and my stomach is rising up into my throat with fear yet my mind remains clear and calm, when suddenly everything comes back online and the plane rights itself. The passengers all begin to clap when the captain comes back on the speaker, "I need everyone to remain in their seats. ...please stop clapping... [the clapping continues] No, really, stop clapping!! [the clapping increases] YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND."

The cabin lights flash and turn to a dark-room red, as the flight attendants run down the aisles and stop in spaced-out points along the plane. The captain comes back on, "There is a terrorist act happening on this plane as we speak." The deafening applause abruptly stops as the plane starts the same turbulent movement it was experiencing before. I force myself to wake up.

The worst part of it all is that as I was laying in bed at 1:30am, I knew that I had to get on a plane this afternoon. I'm not afraid of planes, but sometimes dreams feel so real, they almost seem like a premonition. Luckily, I'm flying on regional jets today (2x2's, yay?) without my family so it can't be a psychic moment. It still took me a while to fall asleep again. Hooray for iPhone solitaire for calming my nerves!

Before the Boarding Door Closes

Thoughts before boarding in O'Hare:

• Today was not the day to mess with me. I have a short fuse after being super exhausted (which no amount of sleeping 12 hours a day seems to fix), and having a lack of hot water in the morning and a heating system in my hotel banquet room on the fritz (for the second day, after they insisted it was working) definitely did not help. Don't ignore my 50th plea to fix the thermostat. Don't take 15 minutes to get to my request every time I ask while you insist you must lock me out of being able to touch the damn thing. Don't get defensive when I point out that a 30 second adjustment is all I'm asking for. Because you will pay for it with a verbal tounge-lashing resulting in me getting my way.
• I don't throw the hissy very often, but turns out it works. Like gangbusters.
• I still don't really get Chicago.
• I still don't get how people SUCK at going through security. Really, you had 15 minutes in line and you're just NOW emptying your pockets? Put it in your laptop bag, your coat pocket, a pocket on your rolling bag. Take out your laptop and hold it so you can put it straight in the bin. Untie your shoes if you're not wearing slip ons already. Take off your coat. Pull out your liquid ziplock. If there's no line, take your time... but with a 15+ minute line, you owe it to everyone else to figure it the hell out.
• Did I mention I'm grouchy today?
• Grouch Grouch Grouch Grouch Grouch Grouch Grouch Grouch
• Why won't people who clearly have been removed from my life stay removed? Not helping my grouchy day, buddy.
• They should have left this place an orchard.
• I'M COMING HOME FOR TWO WHOLE WEEKS IN TWO DAYS OH THANK GOD FOR CHRISTMAS BREAK I AM SO HAPPY!!!!!!!

It's A Love/Hate Relationship...

I hate it when Southwest jumbles our flights, saying we need to take the later connection, booking us on it, then urging us to make the earlier flight we were originally booked on, and finally, puts our bags on the later flight meaning we had to return to the airport to pick up all of our baggage once the next flight lands.

I love it when I walk out of the airport and see that my hotel is directly across a smallish parking lot, meaning that I'm going to earn a $50 voucher for walking less than 0.25 miles back to the airport about 75 minutes later.

Before the Boarding Door Closes

Flights in and out of Orlando have the highest population of children I have ever seen. Thank God I have a drink coupon for Southwest.

Before the Boarding Door Closes

SeaTac has free wi-fi! I'm typing on my computer as I'm sitting on the plane waiting for the masses to board.

A few thoughts about this weekend:

• A 7:20am flight to Newark isn't sooo bad, until you find out the seat you got is in a "limited recline" row in front of the exit row. I tried to check in and change seats, but with holiday travel the flight internets just laughed at me.
• Being in town for 4 days is just a tease. All I want to do now is not be flying out.
• I have hot pink toes just in time for MIAMI!
• After ogling netbooks at Best Buy I'm going to have to try to partake in cyber Monday festivities.
• Holidays centering around eating as much food (especially potatoes and desserts) do not leaving you feeling better.
• Holiday travel complications make me wish we all celebrated on different days.
• Limited recline SUCKS.

[Edit:] Turns out it's not so bad. I slept almost the entire flight without reclining, most of it curled up with my feet resting in the seat-back pocket. Yes, I sleep very oddly on planes.

When Worlds Collide

Sometimes when I'm on the road I happen to be in the right place at the right time. This was one of those times.
Sarah Palin is holding her first book signing in Grand Rapids, MI tonight, and I happen to be in that very city. Of course my presenter and I had to do a drive by and see what the security detail would be, and whether the line would be long.

The TV contingent was really the most impressive part, but there was definitely a crowd gathered outside the Barnes and Nobel in question. This morning, my presenter had prompted me to do a search to see if what one of the participants had told her was true, that the former potential second-in-command of the USA was going to be in the same city as we were that night... And Oh, what I found (scroll to the early morning stuff).

Celebrity is always fascinating to a segment of the population, and honestly, I was a bit curious to see what she'd do or say. A bit. If my presenter wasn't really sick, I'd probably have tried to wander over there and see what all was going on. But I was not interested to the point that I was going to stand outside in the chilly weather any longer than it took to snap some photos or sit on a cramped floor for hours waiting to Maybe get a glimpse. Much less interested to the point that I would wait outside all night. Those days are far behind me. I've waited in line to be at the front for a concert, I've done black friday at 5am... I've done the experience and no faux-politico is going to entice me to do it again. Even a chance to see Obama speak wasn't enough to entice me to wait for an indeterminate amount of time and to change my train ticket.

After all, I've gotten a hug from Jesus.

Take that Palin.

Re-routing and Overloading My Way Through Chicago

Instead of flying on a painfully long flight home on Friday night from Burlington, VT I had planned on an easy direct to Chicago to spend the weekend with Krista and CJ. Oh, if only that had been what had actually happened.

The two days out on the road before this weekend were pretty good. Sadly, I gave up my free day on Veterans Day up to fly trans-con to Manchester, NH. In Manchester, I sat in on a seminar for the first time. I was out with Ken Vieth, who is an amazing artist and art teacher. Unfortunately I was really not feeling creative for whatever reason and what I created that day during the hands on part of the seminar was disappointing. It was a great project though, and I intend to attempt the art on my own time at some point this coming week. We had a great talk on the drive to Burlington, VT as we drove towards a sparklingly beautiful sunset. He was the kind of guy who’s had amazing life experiences that he’s willing to talk about at length, but he also is a question asker and was interested in what stories I had to share as well. I really appreciated talking about my own issues with figuring out what my life’s passions are and what direction to go in after this BER year.

Burlington is on my list of favorite places in the country. I got him to join me out for dinner on Church Street, a fun pedestrian area of town that also has a Ben & Jerry’s store (pumpkin cheesecake ice cream anyone?!) and we wandered a bit just enjoying the college atmosphere and New England architecture. After the seminar the next day, we had a while before our flights so we went down and parked downtown and walked to Lake Champlain, which was staggeringly beautiful with mist and late-afternoon sunlight streaming across it. After one more scoop of Ben & Jerry’s we headed off to the airport, where we were greeted by the most glaringly awful flashing screens I’ve seen in a while.

Turned out, there was the remnants of a hurricane sitting over all of the major east coast hub airports. Ken’s flight to Newark was outright cancelled while my connection flight through Philly was delayed 6 hours. By working my PM magic and working with a brilliant US Airways ticket counter agent (she is getting a commendation letter from me, she was THAT great in the crisis!). Ken and I both flew on a US Air flight to LGA, I got him a car to get to Newark while I changed terminals and got on an American Airlines flight to Chicago, arriving barely half an hour late. Considering the situation was pretty shitty overall, the feeling I got after managing the whole thing seamlessly was amazing. This job has really given me skills that are real world applicable. If anyone wants to know exactly what to say to a ticket counter agent in this kind of situation, call me. :) Also, I was capable of getting my presenter from one airport to another, while getting myself from one terminal of a huge airport to the other terminal, through the correct security line, and still have a front of the plane aisle seat.

When I got on my American flight to ORD, I was pretty excited to actually be making it to my destination, but definitely planning on downing a glass of wine. When my seatmate sat down next to me though, I realized the universe was making it up to me for the previous stress of my day. The cut,e 24 year old NYC equities trader next to me who has family in Seattle was not only fun to talk to, but also all about proving himself to the older, better traveled, attractive female on his right. After he started name dropping celebrities I knew I was about to get my drinks paid for. And that is another thing this job has taught me: let them pay, even if they make fun of you for knitting. That way I get to keep my per-diem for exciting hotel stays in places like Nashville and Miami.

When I arrived in Chicago, Krista and CJ came and picked me up for a chill weekend in Chicago. I’ve already done all of the touristy stuff, so I just wanted to see their new neighborhood and maybe go thrifting. And did we! CJ is the most amazing chef ever... she whipped me up a salad to make up for the fact that I’d barely had time for a luna bar for dinner and then the next morning, after a trip to the most amazing ukrainian deli/grocery store, we had a scramble/fry that was potentially the best thing I’ve had in weeks (excepting my mom’s squash soup... *hint hint*). She also figured out the proper name of the coffee drink I wanted--a coranado or a wet macchiato... damn it I wan to be back in a place that understands “flat white.” Krista took me for a terrifying yet exhilarating scooter ride around the neighborhood and showed me her super-secrect favorite gift shop which was definitely worthy of being favorited.

Then we went to the thrift store. I am not allowed to disclose the actual location of this amazing treasure trove (as if I could find it myself if I tried), but Oh Damn. Thank god I threw a space bag in my suitcase to crunch down some of the amazingness I purchased. I got an extra pair of black flats (Nine West and brand new), a knock-off yet adorable Prada bag (which I call affectionately Frada), tons of sweaters and tops, and an American Apparel skirt, nevermind the already squished contents of my suitcase. We had a blast, and then to top it off, we went to possibly the world’s largest whole foods to grab dinner and to gawk at the rich Lincoln Center folks. People actually get glasses of wine and drink as they shop. How yuppie-fabulous can you get?

Now I am in the Pittiest of Burghs, about to meet an old friend for dinner before starting a week out with one of my favorite presenters from last year. It makes up for the fact that I’m headed to Akron and Detroit this week as well.

When it is Okay to Break the Rules

Break the rules when:

A: You've downed your water bottle upon noticing there was no sink near security to throw out the remaining 16 oz.

B: You purchase and consume a small (since when is 12 oz small?) latte to fill your tummy and power you through the remaining time zone adjustment and afternoon of connecting flights.

C: You board a small aircraft which flies at a low altitude for nearly an hour and a half, running into some rather bumpy air after the first 40 minutes, right about when you start to think about bugging your seatmate to move so you can go to the lavatory.

D: The captain turns on the seatbelt sign, keeps it on for the remainder of the flight, and then proceeds to circle around Cincinatti airport as there is a lot of traffic at the Delta hub, extending the flight by 10 minutes.

Facing a sloshy airplane bathroom and the ire of your not-so-friendly flight attendant is probably better than feeling like your bladder is about to burst as your plane bounces and skitters a landing on the runway. Lesson learned.

Busy Busy Busy Bee

So I've been definitely feeling less than exciting lately, at least as far as this blog goes. I've gone to Niagara Falls, hung out with great folks (both co-workers and old friends), and visited NYC for a night of crazy fun all since whenever I last posted. I've completed knitting my first pair of socks, finally finished reading another "classic" I'd never been assigned, and this week am in the process of picking up states 35-38. All this while working 11/12 days and experiencing some fun airplane delays and border-crossing dramas. Luckily, I'm fine, everything is still rolling smoothly, and I'm still luckier than most when it comes to travel. I think it really comes down to the fact that sometimes I stretch myself too thin.

How many hobbies do I have? How many projects am I working on while planning fun jaunts around various towns? How many friends am I trying to keep up with via texting, facebook, email, IM, and scarce phone conversations? How come I'm still confused why I'm tired?

I hate my job/i love my job

I hate my job when... flying from Chicago on Friday and then to Norfolk on Monday is $200 more expensive with New Orleans in the middle than with Seattle in the middle.

I love my job when... I can spend a chunk of my morning chilling at panera wiring blog posts and scribbling journal entries.

I Hate My Job/I Love My Job

I hate my job when... the presenter treats me like a personal assistant, asks me to go get her heavy box out of the car for her, and has a tone in her voice that simply says she thinks I am beneath her.

I love my job when... I basically say, "Peace out!" and go for a run on the sunny and sandy boardwalk in Virginia Beach during my lunch break. Don't you dare give me crap for it, I'm driving your snoring and drooling butt almost 4 hours tonight, so damn straight I'm taking an hour and a half for lunch.Damn Straight.

You Are My Lucky Star…

My mother constantly says I live under a lucky star, and I have to say I agree. When my cab driver picked me up in Long Island to drive us to LGA airport, I left a solid 2 hours to allow for traffic. We made it the 60 miles in about 65 minutes. Before you think anything, just know that we also left our hotel at 5pm. The driver was in as much shock as I was, probably even more!

Sometimes I am stunned at how lucky I am, but maybe I just recognize it more often. There’s plenty of unlucky things that have happened already: my flight was canceled yesterday, my tortillia soup in San Antonio was disgusting, there have been multiple issues with my faxes for work, my projector bulb died, and let’s face it… I haven’t gotten a presenter who liked to go out of the hotel. But for all those things that are bad (the flight and the bulb being by far the worst), it’s always worked out. I got put on a better flight than I was booked for yesterday. My projector problem was fixed in less than five minutes. And actually, for all the bad food and exhausted presenters, I’ve still gotten out and gone into more cities in the last few weeks than I’ve ever managed before in a similar string of time. I even maximized time in Seattle by running off to Leavenworth with some friends to eat brats and take fall photos.

Rochester was a fun city to be in actually. There was beautiful old architecture and lots of newspaper buildings and statues around town. I wandered during lunch and then picked up a sandwich at a shop on my way back to the hotel. Then today in Ronkonkama (Long Island) I met up with another PM and we found lunch in a little part of town called Sayville, which was adorable looking and had AMAZING pizza. This is the kind of life I lead now. Sometimes I just want to explode with happiness and amazement. This is an almost daily experience. How did I get here again?

I really am a lucky girl. I can hardly believe it sometimes. But the more I believe it the luckier I get. I really think it’s half grace, half attitude—half blessing, half my own openness and efforts—never all my own credit, but partly my fault. Or maybe I just like to think so.

Travel Drama in Rochester

I think I'm developing a true ambivalence towards US Airways... with strong feelings in both extremes.

The initial dislike came from the facts that they charge for drinks on the plane ($2 for an orange juice or soda!) and don't really have the most cushioned of seats. That's really nothing, since their flight was more or less on time the last time I flew them. But then I flew them yesterday...

I checked my flight status at 2:30pm, like our schedule allows, and the flight was delayed by 10 minutes-- really inconsequential, and easily made up time. Then as we waited for the shuttle an hour later (our flight was scheduled for 5:30pm), I checked once again on my phone. Suddenly the word "Canceled" became a part of my travel experience vocabulary. Evidently mechanical problems had grounded our plane. I found the phone number for US Airways and called the airline to see what the options were. A 4pm flight was going out and a 7pm flight... I got her to guarantee us on the 7pm flight since I thought there'd be no way in hell we'd make it for the 4pm.

We pulled up at the ticket counter at about 3:58 and started to check ourselves in when the ticket agent asked us if we were on the canceled flight. We said yes, and she called into the gate agent to see if we could make the 4pm flight. Luckily for us, Rochester airport is tiny and the 4pm flight hadn't even started boarding yet! The wonderful woman tagged all four of our big bags to check, and my presenter was such a trouper as we rushed through security and ran for the gate. We made the flight with time to spare and ended up getting into the hotel a full hour before we'd have made it if we'd taken our canceled flight.

So, damn you US Air for canceling my flight, charging me for even a soda, and packing us in like sardines. But thank you US Air (or at least your ticket agents at Rochester and that one oh-so-luckily late flight) for helping us catch a flight we thought we'd never make.