Eighteen

wink.

Against all odds

Would you laugh at me if I told you I missed my JetBlue flight...again?

I had it all planned out in my head, with plenty of time to spare. My flight was scheduled to leave at 5:35PM, but I had bags to check, which meant I'd have to get there by 4:45PM at the latest. I'd be smart, I thought, and get there by 4:30PM. And then, though it only normally takes 30 minutes by taxi to get to the airport, you never know what's going to happen on a Friday, with traffic, in Chicago - where everyone, it seems, just wants out. I'd leave by 3PM. If that couldn't get me to the gate on time, nothing would.

So I went to lunch with my friends. Met my roommate on a street corner for a quick hug goodbye before her afternoon class. Went back to my apartment where some of my friends were waiting, wanting to help me pass the time with a friendly game of Mafia and Napoleon.

Soon, it was 3PM, and glancing at the clock, I figured we could play another game and still be fine. So play on, we did.

And time-wise, I was fine. I probably hugged my friends longer than necessary, said goodbye more times than needed, but hey, I love them, and I'm going to miss them.

But I was in a taxi by 3:45PM.

Watching my friends through the dirty "clean me" marks of the taxi's rear window, I waited until my friends were just little specks in the distance, before I turned back around to sit properly in my seat. And then I promptly fell asleep.

I woke up a little later, and since I could still recognize my surroundings, I patted myself on the back for a refreshing, yet short, nap. Except, looking at the clock, it was anything but short. It was now 4:30PM. And the airport was anything but close by.

I had miscalculated exactly how many Chicagoans want out of the city during the weekends. Los Angeles might be notorious for its smog and traffic, but I think Chicago's itching for that claim to fame.

"Eh, maybe another 20 to 30 minutes?" my cabbie replied to my ETA query, nonchalantly, as though he didn't have an overly anxious tall Asian girl in his back seat, desperate not to become a legend among the JetBlue staff for never making a flight.

So short story even shorter (along with my nails, which I'd bitten to mere stubs), I got to the terminal at 5:03PM. Plenty of time to check my bag in by the designated "30 minutes before" deadline. It didn't matter that I only had two minutes. I was at the terminal.

The wrong terminal.

Yes. You see, my cabbie was convinced that JetBlue flies out of Terminal 3. Even though there was no JetBlue sign in sight amongst the angry American Airlines customers. Refusing to get out, I rolled down my window and called to a TSA attendant.

"Is this the JetBlue terminal?"
"No, ma'am...you passed it - it's terminal 2!"

But my cabbie REFUSED to believe him. So after finally reassuring him that yes, I would pay him for the extra trip around the airport, off we went. At 20mph.

So yes, JetBlue does indeed fly out of Terminal 2. I got there at 5:15PM, well past the 30 minute deadline that is so strictly imposed by the airline. But undeterred, I went up to a kiosk and tried to input my information. And just as I had expected, I got error messages up the wazoo. Baggage was no longer being accepted for my flight.

Frustrated, I started pushing every single button on the dang touchscreen. I don't know why. Maybe I was hoping to set off a glitch in the system that would override the rules and regulations and let me on my flight. But really, I was probably just tempting TSA to take me away.

Within seconds, a JetBlue employee was at my kiosk.

"Is everything alright, miss?"
"NO. I'm five minutes too late to send my bag with me, but I kinda desperately need my bag to come with me. Is there nothing I can do?"

But despite my best dopey puppy-eyed faces and bribes and promises of always being an HOUR early from now on, there was nothing Matt could do.

"Let me put you on the next flight, which unfortunately leaves at 8AM tomorrow morning."

I sighed, resigned to my fate, ready to make the trek back downtown via the el, wondering what I would tell my friends, praying that they wouldn't laugh too hard at me.

Just then Matt said, "Oh wait!"

Oh wait?

Turns out, that at that exact moment in time, as Matt was about to switch my reservation from Friday night to Saturday in the early freaking morning, my flight was delayed. 30 minutes. Just enough time for me to check in my bag and walk - not run - calmly to my gate.

Best I ever had

Every now and then, life deals you a hand you just don't want to play. But play you must; folding is not an option. You hope against all hope, and you risk it all, praying that somehow you can beat the odds. After all, we were all taught to make lemonade with lemons. And we all learned from Sound of Music that when God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window. Even Nike ingrained in us at an early age to "just do it!"

So we look for a way. Or something to make it better. The rainbow across the sky at the end of the thunderstorm. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.

But in the end, we all know that it was futile from the beginning.

I'll be the first to admit that I've been living a semi-charmed kind of life. I remember during my very last orchestra concert, I had thought to myself that I had to be dreaming. I had gotten into the school of my dreams, went to the most magnificent prom ever (no horse and carriage needed when you've got a beat-up '97 Honda Civic), and I had accomplished everything I had set out to do in high school. In any book, this is where my story should end. All loose ends had been nicely and neatly tied up. It might seem morbid, but the journalist in me was convinced that I was going to die the next day. My story was too perfect.

But I didn't die. Instead it just kept going. And while there were setbacks and dark moments along the way, I wouldn't change a thing. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

And now this. The worst two weeks of my life. Where I just kept getting slammed with more and more bad news. I'm just now trying to pick up all the pieces and put them back into some kind of order. I know what I need to do. What I must do. Even though I might not want to. Because no matter how many times I try to change the parameters, no matter how many times I calculate out all the different permutations, the end result always comes out the same.

And so I know I have to do this. Sure, everything happens for a reason, but I would give an arm and a leg - make a deal with the devil, even - so that nothing would change. Because up until now, my life has been perfect. Perfect even with its imperfections. I've been so close.

But now that things must change, I just want to throw a couple of things out there. I have the best friends in the world. I don't know if I've said that enough. Because I honestly have the best, most caring, friends in the world. And I will miss you all so much. Because you have all been such a huge part of my life. I would not be where I am, who I am, without you. You have been amazingly supportive, and during these past few days and weeks, you guys are the ones who have kept me smiling and laughing. You guys are the one who've kept me moving forward, forcing me to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I will miss you guys so so so much, you don't even know.

I've been so touched by the outpouring of love and support that you've shown me. Not just now, but since the day I've met you. And I'm immensely grateful for it. And a little ashamed, because I don't know if I'm deserving of it all. I'm shaking a little, even now, writing this. You guys are unbelievable. You guys are awesome. You guys have been my family. And I truly love each and every one of you.

When I'm gone and I'm feeling a little down in the dumps, I'll think of things that make me happy, things to make me feel better. But forget silver white winters that melt into spring, or girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes. Bees can sting and dogs can bite, but none of it will phase me, because I - cheese alert - will have my memories of you all. I know I have you guys on my side. And that makes me feel ready to take on any Goliath.

I will miss you all terribly. Thank you for everything.

My slingshot's loaded, so here goes.

Hole

After 23 years of saying I would, but never quite having the guts to go through with it, I finally did it!

I went and got my ears pierced.

Yes.

(Sorry Mom.)


More to come later.