End of the year gripes.

Well, i've finally flown enough to experience a canceled flight. That's not to say, of course, that such an occurrence couldn't happen to a first-time flier. But it was the manner in which it came to pass that was so... interesting.

We left for our 9:45 p.m. flight a bit late from my mom's house: 8:30. We probably arrived at the airport around 8:50, and we still had to wait in line and check a bag. Problem. Our bag (we were sharing, so we brought our huge one), which i had of course so carefully and precisely packed, weighed a whopping 68 pounds. That's 18 over the limit. Now, the maximum 50-lb. checked bag costs only $15 to fly. The overage we were at was going to cost an extra fifty. So $65 altogether! No thanks. The lady kindly informed us that we could spend $10 and just buy an extra carry-on bag somewhere, and put 18 pounds of stuff into it. We thought about it, then ended up opening the damn bag and removing a bunch of stuff, redistributing it into the carry-ons we already had. Not very fun, but it ended up working out okay.

Ran through security, found a bar, ordered a double vodka-and-ginger ale, and we realized they were beginning to board our flight. Ran to the gate, and- what was this? Every single chair around the gate was empty... there was no activity whatsoever! Had we missed the plane? Impossible! i'd been watching the clock carefully the whole time... suddenly a businessman hurried around us to the guy at the counter of Gate A10. "..canceled..." was the muffled word we heard. The man in front of us looked cranky, and ran off. Turns out there was "poor visibility" (read: fog) at Lindbergh Field in San Diego, so the flight had been canceled a mere ten minutes ago. Which helped to assuage my rage at the fine folks at the ticket counter who had somehow seen fit not to inform us of this fact. Turns out they hadn't known yet.

Well, i found a payphone to call my mom, and Nat went to play a dollar on the nickel slots (yes, in Vegas there are slots by each and every gate). We re-booked for the next day, and went to get our checked bag bag, where we were told that as long as we didn't absolutely need it that night, it was being re-tagged somewhere for our flight the next day. But if we wanted we could wait up to 2 hours for it and then check it in the next day all over again. Nope! We decided to trust them.

Big mistake.

The next day, same rigmarole, only without having to check a bag. Forgot i had a tiny swiss army knife with my carry-on (they hadn't caught it the day before, wtf?!), so i had to "surrender" it. We made it to the gate with plenty of time to spare. Then our plane was an hour late, then it was a tiny Canada Air plane, which freaked me out, and then- AND THEN! We arrived in San Diego. Waited at the carousel. Watched nervously as all of our fellow passengers retrieved their bags and flounced happily away. After a few empty turns, we realized our bag was a no-show.

Horrible, horrible feeling, that is.

Visited the "customer service" desk, where we were "helped" by someone who had no idea where our bag was our when they would find it. i really wish i could say i was nicer to this woman than i was. Basically, they tag the bag when you give it to them, but they can only check on it if it is at an actual airport somewhere. If it anywhere in between, in transit, on a ramp, whatever, they have no clue. So that's not fun.

We left the airport in a grouchy mood, and spent New Year's Eve feeling anxious and annoyed. Miraculously, at five minutes to midnight, we received a call. They had found our bag, wonder of wonders! It was a wonderful feeling, and it felt like a much better way to end the year.

They drove it to our place the next day, and everything was fine. Nat and i postponed our quitting smoking resolution for a day, and went for a long evening walk up by the beach in La Jolla. i felt like i was coming down with something, which could not have been more true. It is now the fourth, and i have been sick for 3 days. Tissues, Ricolas, body aches, sleeping 'til noon. I'm finally hacking up some stuff, which may or may not be related to quitting smoking, which is definitely making me cranky. i remembered it taking a few days for that to kick in, but not this time. i want one, and i want it bad.

Now i'm busy chasing the last of this illness away, drinking lemon juice, honey, cayenne, and ginger infusions. Good times! Anyway, at least now i'm not going to die of lung cancer (apologies to anyone who has lost someone to a smoking-related illness). Hopefully it will stick this time. Right? Right.