Misery loves company

For a change, I will start this blog with a riddle:

What do you call 5 angry passengers and 2 hungry/tired toddlers stranded at an airport?
My traveling companions Friday night on my trip home.

To really appreciate the riddle, allow me to explain the circumstances that inspired it. After the countdown of days leading to Friday, I was finally able to fly back home from Brussels to Iowa. To say I was ready to come home would do my anxiousness injustice. After a completely undramatic flight from Brussels to Chicago, I was counting myself fortunate to finally have faced no obstacles on a trip back home (which would be the first time in all of my trips back to the states). Just a few hours after boasting this fact, I was soon faced with another: my flight from Chicago to Des Moines was canceled due to fog. Disappointed but not altogether surprised, I hurriedly made my way to the ticket counter to get the details. "No more flights tonight." "We could put you on standby tomorrow morning but all the flights are full." "There is a big snowstorm expected in Des Moines tomorrow." "We are trying to make this as difficult for you as possible." These are just a few of the reassurances I received from the American Airlines staff at the ticket counter. Standing near me were several other frustrated, but more vocal passengers. "Well what in the hell are we supposed to do?!" demanded one. "I need to be in Des Moines tonight!" lamented another. "Well, you could always rent a car." was their reply. And so, with several nods of agreement, it was decided by myself and the other disgruntled passengers standing near. I trudged through O'Hare with four other adults, and two toddlers towards baggage claim to retrieve our luggage, the one consolation offered to us by the AA staff.

To our dismay, no luggage was to be found at our carousel with the exception of three sad, ownerless bags that rotated depressingly past us with out anyone to claim them. It was then that we saw the sign:
If your flight was canceled and Chicago is not your final destination, your luggage will not be picked up here, but sent to your final destination, because we would rather not search for it and give it to you while you are standing here waiting" or something to that effect.

It was then discovered, after some exploration, that there were no cars left to rent at O'Hare. After further investigation, it was determined that there were no cars left to rent in the whole city of Chicago. And so it was that we found ourselves taking a taxi to St. Charles, an hour away from the airport, to pick up our rental cars. The rest of my evening was spent dozing in and out of sleep, unable to sleep fully for fear that my driver would be doing the same. But after 5 1/2 hours of relatively uneventful fog-filled driving, we finally reached Des Moines by 1 am, 7 hours after our scheduled arrival.

Altogether, this whole adventure was an incredible learning experience for me. Our random little group became so protective of each other, now thrown into a situation that we were desperate to find ourselves out of. We each took on our roles, including babysitter (guess who took that one), taxi researcher, driver, and luggage checker. We became companions, bonded together so closely by this incident, and probably never to see each other again. One of my fellow traveling friends even said in the taxi, "If our flight wasn't canceled, than I never would have met any of you!" It really was quite comforting to at least have, if not our luggage or a flight home, each other.

It's good to be home. I've missed you, Iowa.

Coincidences...

One more blog for this evening...
I just finished my last report for the night, when what song should be playing but Norah Jones' "The Long Day is Over." I love it when that happens.

Nickel Creek and coco

I am writing this post with no other intention than to delay writing my report cards for as long as possible. Yes, I have reached another first: The First Report Cards, probably the most dreaded of all the other firsts, as they take the most time to prepare and are the most "permanent."
So to alleviate the complete burden that are report cards, I have cozied up with piles of papers and grading books with my laptop playing the ever-soothing Nickel Creek and cup of steaming hot coco. I figure if I'm going to be doing something this intense, I would want to be doing it in comfort (For the record, I have been at these on and off for six hours now).
With only two weeks until I fly back to the states I am having a hard time focusing on anything other than the excitement of being back at my home again. It's a rather interesting dynamic at school right now when both teachers and students are already getting themselves in gear for a two week break and where school is the last place either wants to be right now. I am surrounded by reminders that Christmas is near. It's in the lights on the streets, the large evergreen tree lit up with lights outside our town hall, in the markets set up all across Europe, and drifting through the speakers of my computer from streaming in a radio station from back home that plays nothing but Christmas music all day long. And all I can think about is being back home for the holidays, for as the song says,"Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays!" Which I think is especially appreciated when coming home after what will be almost 5 months.
Better get back to reports. Stay tuned for my next blog on how to keep 21 pre-pubescent and hormonal children interested in improper fractions the week before winter break.

Almost there...