After five weeks in beautiful Quebec, I am finally back in the good ol’ US of A. I am so happy to be back, but I know I am going to miss everyone and everything about Canada. Everything was fabulous; the trip back to the States? Not so much.
I woke up bright and early on Saturday morning after a refreshing hour or so of sleep. After wrestling the very last items into my overweight suitcase, I ate a quick breakfast and went to the bus station to catch the 6:30 bus. I was lucky enough to get a seat to myself, so I stretched out and passed out within fifteen minutes of leaving Chicoutimi. We arrived in Quebec City about two-ish hours later, switched buses, and continued along our merry way to Montreal. However, I did not get my solo seat, and I had to share with some random girl who played her iPod way too loud and did not understand the concept of staying in her own seat.
We arrived in Montreal around noon, and one of the girls who took the bus to school with me and I split a cab from the bus station to the airport. We arrived at the airport, and I searched for my airline’s check-in counter, which wasn’t very clearly labeled. I filled out my customs card and learned that over the course of five weeks, I had amassed an extra ten pounds worth of stuff. (Judging from what I bought, I am not entirely certain that that is possible or true, but who am I to argue?) I shelled out fifty dollars and did the whole customs thing, which was actually incredibly pleasant. After that, I spent some quality time in the lovely Montreal airport … and by quality, I mean, like, five hours.
My flight to Philadelphia was great. We made great time and even got there early. I took some time to grab something to eat, and upon arriving at the gate, I learned that the airline had oversold the flight. Not only did I not have a seat on a flight I paid for months ago, the next flight to Indianapolis, home of my parents, wasn’t until Sunday afternoon. The woman at the gate assured me she would do her best to get me a seat on the plane, but I was so frustrated and so burned out from traveling all day — not to mention the added distress of the thought of having to stay in Philadelphia for another twenty hours — that I just returned to my seat in the airport and bawled. Ten minutes before my flight was scheduled to leave, the woman at the gate told me to take the first available seat. Forty-five minutes, several angry customers, and ten planes ahead of us on the runway, we finally left Philadelphia.
Never in my life have I been so excited to be in Indianapolis.
Tomorrow is my last day with the family, and I am really sad. I hate that I won’t be staying with them this summer, but it’s just eighty times more practical for me to stay in Jackson and work at the station. It makes more sense, and it’ll give me more time to adjust to living in the house. It’s a stepping stone summer for me: I have a part-time job that’s not related to retail or food in any capacity, and I’ll be living in my sorority house — fully furnished, but I still have to pay rent and cook dinner. This is as close to being a grown up as I am getting until May 11, 2008.
Speaking of being grown up, I have an appointment to get my tires rotated tomorrow. That’s weird.
Okay, I’m going to bed.
1 Comment
June 20, 2007 at 2:24 pm
Wow, traveling sucks. I’m glad you’re back. Have fun with the family.