Stuck

An uneventful trip between airports is a wonderful trip. Generally, an eventful trip between airports is a terrible trip.

Well, I'm having an eventful trip.

I am currently sitting at Gate A18 at the Detroit Metro Airport waiting for a flight that will not come until 5:45 in the morning. Right now, it is 10:44 P.M.

My lay-over has become a sleep-over.

That is right my faithful readers, I missed my flight to Portland-the plane from Detroit to Portland left at 9:08, boarded at 8:38. I got here from Little Rock at 8:45, which was on one side of the airport. My gate was on the complete opposite side of the airport, naturally. So, I power-walked my way from one side of a major big city airport to the other, knocking into all sorts bystanders with my body covered in bags and pillows-I forgot all sorts etiquette and manners, I was like a bull and they bowling pins. My calves were screaming, my back was cramping and my breath was getting a little worse for wear. It was one of those moments I strongly wished I was into exercise and all that active stuff.

Well, as you can see, I still didn't make it. I will not be sleeping in my own blissful, wonderful, beloved bed tonight. I will not be waking up to the sweet, delectable aroma of fresh cinnamon rolls. I will not be sleeping in after a long week of finals. Instead, I shall be waking to the sound of an announcer making sure I do not leave items unattended or they will be considered deadly devices of destruction. I will be waking up to the chatter and gossip of airport workers who do not know the meaning of customer service. ( Side Note: Why do airport workers never, ever look happy to be at their jobs? Of course, if I worked in an airport, I probably wouldn't either.) I will be waking up at 5:00 a.m., to board a plane to Boston where I will be picked up to drive 2 hours to Portland.

Why does stuff like this always happen to me? Well, I can never say I lead a boring life.

And I must say, I feel strangely grown up. Sleeping over in airports is a businessman, adult sort of thing. I got my own flight together and everything and picked what city to go to and everything. I naturally went with which ever flight was the earliest and nearest to Portland. Adulthood seems to be giving previews, or should I say trailers, of what life will be like in a few years when I'm really on my own.

Being on your own isn't so bad. It is kind of weird sitting completely by your-self in a big terminal, watching the security drive by on their segways speed by. But, I've always been o.k. with solidarity. Don't get me wrong, I am a highly-social creature created for socializing, but I've gotten used to sitting by my-self. It reminds me of 8^th grade when I first moved to Maine-I sat by my-self at these big, round tables trying to not get noticed. Being the new kid sucks. Pure and simple, but it teaches you so many things, it stretches you in so many directions. Being the new kid makes you stronger. Being the new kid tears you out of your comfort zone and puts you in the Twilight Zone. You learn so much about yourself when you are in a world without friends.

Wow, I am really starting to sound depressing and melodramatic. Have no fears, I eventually made many, many, many good friends at Gorham High School and I am so glad I went there. It just took some getting used to. Hey, I started out eating alone and ended up being elected Prom King-what a weird, unexplainable world.

I guess what I really want to say is being on your own lets God have free reign. There are no others to distract, no one to tempt you, no one to interupt the connection. God did make us to be creatures of relationships, but He likes to have us all to Him-self from time to time-even if it means making you miss that plane ride home.

So, here I am, stuck in the Detroit Metro Airport for a whole night, mad at the world because McDonalds was out of fries when I went to eat dinner and really sad because there is a great Borders just on the other side of my gate, but is closed. And listening to Celine Dion isn't really helping. I'm also looking over at this Delta kiddy playland strongly tempted crawl inside one the plastic play houses and rest easy for the night-but that might not go so well with security. Let's see if I can find a nice, clean spot of carpet to relax on.

Well, here's to Life, and all the fun that comes with it.