I Hate Driving, but I Hate Flying More

You would think that after being:
1) Stuck in the wrong airport for a full day
2) Having luggage shipped to the wrong city
3) Having cargo shipped to the wrong city
4) Missing connecting flights (which lead to #1 above)
5) Having luggage also miss connecting flights
6) And playing "Musical Gates"
...that I would love flying. Well I don't. I really don't. And it has nothing to do with Air Canada, WestJet, or any other carrier specifically, I just really hate flying. But I don't like driving either so I guess I don't have much choice, now do I?

So, I spent most of this morning running around like a madman, getting stuff packed, cleaning up the condo, and saying goodbyes; all under the impression that it was really an hour ahead of the actual time (that is to say, that at 12:30 I thought it was 1:30 and I had planned to leave for the airport at 2:00). When I got up this morning, after hitting the snooze button three times (I haven't slept more than five hours per night over the past four nights), I folded and packed all my clothes and necessities, showered, and then headed out to Chez Cora's to have breakfast with Ken and Suling.

Breakfast was okay, I had the strawberry crepe with hazelnut spread, but the strawberries weren't very good today. Coffee was pretty good, and I had two cups (more than my usual load). Then we headed over to the bank so Ken could get some money, and then took the usual route back to my condo. Except that Rene Levesque, for some reason still unknown to me, was shut down and all traffic was being re-routed downtown. Add to that the construction happening on Sherbrooke, which reduced four lanes of traffic down to two, and you have major stress-inducing panic. All this time I was psychotically thinking that I would be late leaving for the airport.

When we finally got home, I tossed a few more items into my bags, loaded up the car and proceeded to clean the condo. I guess I should go back a few steps and explain why. All this week up until Thursday night, I was under the impression that a moving company was coming to get my stuff either on Friday or today. So I spent this week frantically trying to pack up the last five years of my life (not an easy task) into boxes that were falling apart, all the while attempting to sell furniture and appliances, as well as saying goodbye to all my friends. Note that I didn't even get to say goodbye to some of those friends and to them I apologize. When I called my parents on Thursday night, they told me I would be coming back to pack up the condo and it would be at that time that the moving company would be sending my stuff back to Calgary. Until then it would just sit in my living room. Since we're waiting until the condo is sold before we go back, I had to clean the place as best I could. I vaccuumed, I wiped, I Fantastic-ed, I swept, I did everything possible to make the place look as nice as it could be (which basically means I just tossed all my shit into the closets).

Once the cleaning was done, I got in the rental car, gassed it up, and then headed down to the airport. At the airport, I filled out an incident report for the dented door that was in fact already dented when I picked up the car (I didn't know this at the time, and thus the incident report was unneccessary), and the proof of that dent was in the file with my contract that I had placed in the sun visor.

Then I went in to drop off my bag for check in. I had checked in online the night before so that I could get a good seat, and everything went fine except for my bag was overweight so they charged me $35 extra. Once paid, it had to be dropped off at the Overweight Baggage area. I passed through security without incident (thank god), and walked over to my gate. I sat down and an announcement came over the speakers that said all passengers on my flight should report to another gate for a change of boarding passes. So I went over to the other gate, got a new boarding pass (the original plane had mechanical problems and so the passengers were put on another flight to Toronto). This new plane was late taking off because two old people got stuck in security but their bags had already been loaded. And by law, if the bags are loaded onto the plane, their owners must also be on the plane. And besides, it would have taken longer to remove the baggage than to wait. So we arrived in Toronto late, but just in time for me to get off this first plane, walk to the gate next door, and get on the second plane. I had hoped to pick up a snack in Toronto, but didn't have time.

The second plane, from Toronto to Vancouver, was on time taking off, so I figured my bag wouldn't make it even though it was only going from one plane to another (both of which were sitting side by side). The flight was long (they played "She's The Man" with Amanda Bynes and Channing Tatum, who btw is very good looking), and food was expensive so I didn't eat. By this point, I hadn't eaten since breakfast and was pretty hungry. At the Vancouver airport my suspicions were confirmed: my bag was on another flight from Toronto and wouldn't be arriving until later tonight. They took down my address here and said that if I didn't hear from them by 11pm, the bag would be delivered in the morning. Well 11pm came and went and no phone call so my bag is still at the airport.

Probably the best part of today is that my sister was waiting for me at the airport, and my brother, Derek, was waiting for me at my Grandma's place (where I'm staying). Seeing both of them, and my Grandma made the trip worthwhile. Then my cousin Selena arrived for a chat, and that made things even better. We had dinner and some of the famous apple pie, and I'm now getting ready for bed (without all my stuff).

So now if you ask me why I don't like airports, flying, or the process of travelling in general, you'll know why. And this against "I hope this incident hasn't put you off flying. Statistically it is still the safest way to travel" (bonus points to whoever can identify the speaker).

On a side note, yesterday I flew Artemis to Calgary direct from Montreal and that didn't even go smoothly. He was supposed to have a layover in Winnipeg (that part was okay), but then they put him on a flight to Edmonton. FUCKING EDMONTON!!! So when my Dad went to pick him up at 7pm at the Calgary airport they couldn't find Artemis. When they did find him, he basically forced them to have Artemis delivered to our door. At 11:45pm that night, Artemis arrived at my house in Calgary. By this point, he had been in the carrier for 12 hours. TWELVE FUCKING HOURS!!! I could seriously kill some of these people. So stupid!! God-fucking lazy-assed careless unionized workers....