It's been a while, so here's a quick breakdown of everything that's happened since I got back from New York and DC:
* Brittany came back from Uruguay with some sort of flu/cold and gave it to me. I've been sick as hell and am finally getting better. I've been going to work for the most part anyways(only missed one day!) but it's made the past couple weeks rough.
* Brittany had an awesome time over spring break and was primed to talk about it in every conversation for at least a week. I think she's totally sure she wants to take a year abroad in South America at some point, she's just trying to figure out when.
* I decided to accept Fordham's offer of admission and sent in my first deposit. AMAZINGLY, the next day I got an e-mail from their financial aid office telling me that they are awarding me a $7,500 per year merit-based scholarship, for all three years I am there. That was, by far, the most shockingly good news I have heard in a very long time.
* Brittany's roommate Laurel suddenly and unexpectedly went batshit crazy and decided she needed to move out, basically telling Brittany that she should trade apartments with me. She actually yelled that at her while I was sitting right there, talking about me in the third person, and never quite got around to asking me if it would be alright. Well, anyways, it did turn out to be the most expedient route, because Brittany's going crazy and needs someone to move in with her if Laurel moves out, which is inevitable at this point. So, long story short, I'm moving from Duck's Village to Brittany's apartment downtown and swapping leases with Laurel. I'm gonna miss living with Gabe, Mike, and Brandon, but I had to get Brittany's back on this or she'd be pretty screwed. Right now I'm in the process of moving all my junk, trying to get it done by next weekend.
I think that's about it for the major events of the past few weeks.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Monday, April 03, 2006
Travel Hell
So we left off and I was just getting to Dulles airport...
My ticket to Las Vegas, where I was supposed to transfer to a flight to Eugene, said United Airlines. Prominently. On the first line. WIth no other airlines listed anywhere.
Like an idiot. I believed my ticket, and so I stood in line at the United ticket counter for 45 minutes. At the ticket counter, they explained that although my ticket said United, it actually meant US Airways, and so I'd have to go there instead. I complied, walking briskly across Dulles' huge terminal, and naturally, the US Airways rep explained to me that I'd have to go to even further, to the America West ticket counter, because they had merged and I'd actually be on their airline instead. United is at the furthest possible position from America West i at Dulles. I'd estimate it was about a quarter of a mile walk, and I was encumbered by two very heavy bags. I go to the America West ticket counter at 8:03.
My flight being at 8:30, they calmly explained that I missed the 30 minute cutoff and they wouldn't let me check-in. There was no way I'd be able to get to the gate fast enough, they said, and there's no chance they'd even let me try. It would be a disservice to me if they did, they said.
I completely lost my shit, essentially demanding, pleading, begging that they just check me in. They're wasting valuable time, I tried to expalin, there's still 27 minutes, I can make... Then there were only 25 minutes.. then only twenty, and then they asked me to leave.
I called orbitz, screamed at them for a while, and they refused to take responsibility. "I'm flying America West, but my ticket says United.. You put the wrong airline on my ticket, so it's your faultthat I missed my flight I told them." "The ticket is supposed to say United," they rejoined, "They're the issuing airline!" "But it's misleading to put the wrong airline front and center on a ticket! You put the wrong information there!" "No," they replied, "We put the right information there, and we're not going t argue with you about that. You should have paid closer attention. It's all in the service agreement you clicked next on."
I gave up. It was 8:25, my flight still ahdn't left, but there of course there was no way I'd be getting on it. I went back to teh ticket counter and asked to reschedule my flight. THey were nice enough to waive the $150 change fee, and set me up to go Phoenix at 7AM the next day, and fly standby to Eugene once I go there. I called Mr. Cimino-Hurt, and like the hero that he is, he came and picked up, aying he didn't mind driving me back to the airport at 6 the next day.
Fast forward to 6 the next day. I check in, and then start my stopwatch. I walk deliberately to security. THey pat me down, the whole deal. They single me out for special inspection, swab everything for explosives, and riffle through my belongings. Stopwatch is ticking.
I walk to the shuttle to my flight, wait for it to leave, and then exit it when it reaches the proper terminal. I heave my enormous bags to the gate, and take a seat while I wait to board. 17 minutes had passed since I left the check in counter. Bastards.
The flight to Phoenix was uneventful. I slept most of the way because I was exhausted, and when we got to Phoenix, I had plenty of time to get to the gate where my standby flight was leaving from. I was one of the first ones there, but when I asked the gate agents if I was going to get on, they explained that the flight was overbooked, so it would take an act of God for me to make the flgiht. I bought a cinnabon for breakfast, and I waited. Julie Portnoy walked by, and she was taking the flight. We said hello. She got on board the aircraft, since she had a real ticket and wasn't on standby. I ate my cinnabon and watched a fligt going to Eugene take off without me.
The next flight to Eugene wasn't until 5:30, 6 hours later. So I sat around, read a little, and waited some more. Around 4:30 the gate agents came to the gate so I asked them if I might make this flight. It was even more severely overbooked. Furthermore, the next flight to Eugene from Phoenix wasn't until TUESDAY NIGHT. I sat at the gate, and chatted with Mark Johnson, a philosophy proffessor who was on the flight. The whole time the gate agent was asking ticketed passengers to give up their seats because they were so badly oversold. I could tell I wasn't getting on this flight, either. Eventually professor Johnson boarded the plane. Eventually the plane took off, and again I saw my ride home leave without me.
The only way to get back home was going to be to go to Las Vegas, wait 26 hours, then catch a flight that miraculously had 1 seat still open. Fortunately, my grandma lives there so I had a place to stay, and I actually had a decent time visiting with her for a day.
I only had one more flight left, but of course there was no way it could go smoothly. I got to the airport with about an hour and twenty minutes, waited in line for 50 minutes, then asked an agent if there was any way she could help me get to the front of the line, because I thought I'd miss my flight. SHe just laughed at me and shrugged. I was freaking out and thought I could feel an ulcer start to develop, when another agent who had overheard came up and actually tried to help. SHe checked me in, and then told me I probably wouldn't make it, but I had better go as fast as I can if I want any chance. There was no way I was going to miss this flight, so again I went as fast as I could to security, where, of course, they decided to give me the 'extra inspection.' They made me unpack everything, they even confiscated my tiny swiss army knife, which I'd been flying around the entire country with and no one had bothered me about before, even in my last flight where I was given the special treatment as well. I thought they had reformed the laws a litte, guess not. ANyways, when they were finally done with me I was again sprinting down the terminal, still lugging around all my clothes and the ten pound paperweight that used to be my laptop. Breathless and sweaty I made it to the gate just in time. I think sitting down on the too-small seat on the little regional jet was probably the happiest single moment of my trip. Secure in the knowledge that I'd actually be getting home that night, I took a deep breath and relaxed.
My ticket to Las Vegas, where I was supposed to transfer to a flight to Eugene, said United Airlines. Prominently. On the first line. WIth no other airlines listed anywhere.
Like an idiot. I believed my ticket, and so I stood in line at the United ticket counter for 45 minutes. At the ticket counter, they explained that although my ticket said United, it actually meant US Airways, and so I'd have to go there instead. I complied, walking briskly across Dulles' huge terminal, and naturally, the US Airways rep explained to me that I'd have to go to even further, to the America West ticket counter, because they had merged and I'd actually be on their airline instead. United is at the furthest possible position from America West i at Dulles. I'd estimate it was about a quarter of a mile walk, and I was encumbered by two very heavy bags. I go to the America West ticket counter at 8:03.
My flight being at 8:30, they calmly explained that I missed the 30 minute cutoff and they wouldn't let me check-in. There was no way I'd be able to get to the gate fast enough, they said, and there's no chance they'd even let me try. It would be a disservice to me if they did, they said.
I completely lost my shit, essentially demanding, pleading, begging that they just check me in. They're wasting valuable time, I tried to expalin, there's still 27 minutes, I can make... Then there were only 25 minutes.. then only twenty, and then they asked me to leave.
I called orbitz, screamed at them for a while, and they refused to take responsibility. "I'm flying America West, but my ticket says United.. You put the wrong airline on my ticket, so it's your faultthat I missed my flight I told them." "The ticket is supposed to say United," they rejoined, "They're the issuing airline!" "But it's misleading to put the wrong airline front and center on a ticket! You put the wrong information there!" "No," they replied, "We put the right information there, and we're not going t argue with you about that. You should have paid closer attention. It's all in the service agreement you clicked next on."
I gave up. It was 8:25, my flight still ahdn't left, but there of course there was no way I'd be getting on it. I went back to teh ticket counter and asked to reschedule my flight. THey were nice enough to waive the $150 change fee, and set me up to go Phoenix at 7AM the next day, and fly standby to Eugene once I go there. I called Mr. Cimino-Hurt, and like the hero that he is, he came and picked up, aying he didn't mind driving me back to the airport at 6 the next day.
Fast forward to 6 the next day. I check in, and then start my stopwatch. I walk deliberately to security. THey pat me down, the whole deal. They single me out for special inspection, swab everything for explosives, and riffle through my belongings. Stopwatch is ticking.
I walk to the shuttle to my flight, wait for it to leave, and then exit it when it reaches the proper terminal. I heave my enormous bags to the gate, and take a seat while I wait to board. 17 minutes had passed since I left the check in counter. Bastards.
The flight to Phoenix was uneventful. I slept most of the way because I was exhausted, and when we got to Phoenix, I had plenty of time to get to the gate where my standby flight was leaving from. I was one of the first ones there, but when I asked the gate agents if I was going to get on, they explained that the flight was overbooked, so it would take an act of God for me to make the flgiht. I bought a cinnabon for breakfast, and I waited. Julie Portnoy walked by, and she was taking the flight. We said hello. She got on board the aircraft, since she had a real ticket and wasn't on standby. I ate my cinnabon and watched a fligt going to Eugene take off without me.
The next flight to Eugene wasn't until 5:30, 6 hours later. So I sat around, read a little, and waited some more. Around 4:30 the gate agents came to the gate so I asked them if I might make this flight. It was even more severely overbooked. Furthermore, the next flight to Eugene from Phoenix wasn't until TUESDAY NIGHT. I sat at the gate, and chatted with Mark Johnson, a philosophy proffessor who was on the flight. The whole time the gate agent was asking ticketed passengers to give up their seats because they were so badly oversold. I could tell I wasn't getting on this flight, either. Eventually professor Johnson boarded the plane. Eventually the plane took off, and again I saw my ride home leave without me.
The only way to get back home was going to be to go to Las Vegas, wait 26 hours, then catch a flight that miraculously had 1 seat still open. Fortunately, my grandma lives there so I had a place to stay, and I actually had a decent time visiting with her for a day.
I only had one more flight left, but of course there was no way it could go smoothly. I got to the airport with about an hour and twenty minutes, waited in line for 50 minutes, then asked an agent if there was any way she could help me get to the front of the line, because I thought I'd miss my flight. SHe just laughed at me and shrugged. I was freaking out and thought I could feel an ulcer start to develop, when another agent who had overheard came up and actually tried to help. SHe checked me in, and then told me I probably wouldn't make it, but I had better go as fast as I can if I want any chance. There was no way I was going to miss this flight, so again I went as fast as I could to security, where, of course, they decided to give me the 'extra inspection.' They made me unpack everything, they even confiscated my tiny swiss army knife, which I'd been flying around the entire country with and no one had bothered me about before, even in my last flight where I was given the special treatment as well. I thought they had reformed the laws a litte, guess not. ANyways, when they were finally done with me I was again sprinting down the terminal, still lugging around all my clothes and the ten pound paperweight that used to be my laptop. Breathless and sweaty I made it to the gate just in time. I think sitting down on the too-small seat on the little regional jet was probably the happiest single moment of my trip. Secure in the knowledge that I'd actually be getting home that night, I took a deep breath and relaxed.
The next few days...
So, the rest of my trip was pretty nice-- I had good times in New York, hung out with Gavin on Tuesday, and then that night had dinner with my cousin Allison. I spent all day Wednesday at Fordham attending the admiited students day. It was really quite impressive.
THen I started having some real bad luck.
I should have known something was wrong when my laptop stopped working entirely on Wednesday evening. I was just sitting in Yerachmiel's apartment in Brooklyn surfing the web and it totally stopped responding. Cursor was frozen, alt-tab, ctr-alt-del, nothing. I finally did a hard shut-down, and when I tried to reboot I didn't even get a bios. I wasn't able to get any response out of it, no matter how I tried to reboot, restart, anything. I am pretty sure either the processor or motherboard just gave up. That was pretty disappointing. I'd had that laptop since freshman year and have replaced many components. I think now it's finally dead for good. Rest in peace, Little Computer that Could.
So, the next day another funny thing happened. I lazed around the apartment until about 90 minutes before my flight, then Yerachmiel and I started to drive to JFK. It was pretty nasty traffic, but we got there with about 25 minutes to go 'til my flight. I checked my ticket to see which airline I'd be taking so we eent to the right terminal, and it was about then that I realized I was supposed to fly out of Laguardia. Oh, shit.
Yerachmiel had no idea how to get there, and of course neither did I, but I broke out my handy subway map(which happens to ahve a few major surface streets as well) and frantically told Yerachmield to get on the Van Wyck, which would take us in more or less the right direction. Yerachmiel called one of his friends, and he told us which exit to take. We go to LaGuardia with about 10 minutes to go, I jumped out, ran to the front of the line, bolted through security and sprinted to the gate. I didn't check any luggage, so I was carrying everything--including my 10lb laptop which was now total dead weight. I made it with seconds to spare, got on the plane, and, of course we waited on the tarmac for about 40 minutes to take off.
When I landed in DC, I had to find transportation. There are signs everywhere at Dulles saying to only take authorized taxi services(I think the airport gets kickbacks), and at the taxi place there was guy giving out flyers, so I grabbed one, he wrote something on it, and told me where to go. I looked at the back and it said it'd be around $50(est.) to get to DC and they charge by the mile and by the minute. So I looked for other options, and found a huttle service hidden in the corner that would get me to my hotel for $27. It's a good thing i did that, because the 2 hour ride through the worst bumper to bumper traffice I have seen anywhere, Los Angeles included, would have probably cost me over $150 if I had taken the airport taxi.
My hotel was crappy, really more of a hostel than anything else, but I figured it would be since the room was only $50 a night. TO give a poignant example of just how run down it was though: the bathroom sink was the kind with a procelain base that is supposed to extend down to the floor. The procelain base on this one wasn't long enough, so it was sitting on top of a cut-down two-by-four. Really a classy fix-it job, if you ask me.
I went to a bar nearby for dinner and a beer, and talked to some of the locals. None of them really had much to say about American University, which I was going to visit, but they made DC sound a lot more livable than I had imagined. I guess it's gotten much better in the past few years.
Next morning, I cram onto the subway at 7AM to get to the American Law campus. Their presentation was nice, and it definitely gave me something to think on. I really will need to make a hard decision, because American seems to stack up to Fordham better than I though it might. I cut out early to go visit Mr. Cimino-Hurt, who was a teacher at my high school, my advisor, and also the Sensei of our Karate team. He lives in Virginia now, ao I made the trip out there by subway and he picked me up.
It was really cool to see him and his family. His wife was also a teacher at my high school, and really cool, and I'm friends with his sons Alex and Robyn, although only Robyn was home. We had dinner and he drove me to the airport, where I arrived with about 70 minutes to go before my flight...
well, i'm finally back in Eugene after
THen I started having some real bad luck.
I should have known something was wrong when my laptop stopped working entirely on Wednesday evening. I was just sitting in Yerachmiel's apartment in Brooklyn surfing the web and it totally stopped responding. Cursor was frozen, alt-tab, ctr-alt-del, nothing. I finally did a hard shut-down, and when I tried to reboot I didn't even get a bios. I wasn't able to get any response out of it, no matter how I tried to reboot, restart, anything. I am pretty sure either the processor or motherboard just gave up. That was pretty disappointing. I'd had that laptop since freshman year and have replaced many components. I think now it's finally dead for good. Rest in peace, Little Computer that Could.
So, the next day another funny thing happened. I lazed around the apartment until about 90 minutes before my flight, then Yerachmiel and I started to drive to JFK. It was pretty nasty traffic, but we got there with about 25 minutes to go 'til my flight. I checked my ticket to see which airline I'd be taking so we eent to the right terminal, and it was about then that I realized I was supposed to fly out of Laguardia. Oh, shit.
Yerachmiel had no idea how to get there, and of course neither did I, but I broke out my handy subway map(which happens to ahve a few major surface streets as well) and frantically told Yerachmield to get on the Van Wyck, which would take us in more or less the right direction. Yerachmiel called one of his friends, and he told us which exit to take. We go to LaGuardia with about 10 minutes to go, I jumped out, ran to the front of the line, bolted through security and sprinted to the gate. I didn't check any luggage, so I was carrying everything--including my 10lb laptop which was now total dead weight. I made it with seconds to spare, got on the plane, and, of course we waited on the tarmac for about 40 minutes to take off.
When I landed in DC, I had to find transportation. There are signs everywhere at Dulles saying to only take authorized taxi services(I think the airport gets kickbacks), and at the taxi place there was guy giving out flyers, so I grabbed one, he wrote something on it, and told me where to go. I looked at the back and it said it'd be around $50(est.) to get to DC and they charge by the mile and by the minute. So I looked for other options, and found a huttle service hidden in the corner that would get me to my hotel for $27. It's a good thing i did that, because the 2 hour ride through the worst bumper to bumper traffice I have seen anywhere, Los Angeles included, would have probably cost me over $150 if I had taken the airport taxi.
My hotel was crappy, really more of a hostel than anything else, but I figured it would be since the room was only $50 a night. TO give a poignant example of just how run down it was though: the bathroom sink was the kind with a procelain base that is supposed to extend down to the floor. The procelain base on this one wasn't long enough, so it was sitting on top of a cut-down two-by-four. Really a classy fix-it job, if you ask me.
I went to a bar nearby for dinner and a beer, and talked to some of the locals. None of them really had much to say about American University, which I was going to visit, but they made DC sound a lot more livable than I had imagined. I guess it's gotten much better in the past few years.
Next morning, I cram onto the subway at 7AM to get to the American Law campus. Their presentation was nice, and it definitely gave me something to think on. I really will need to make a hard decision, because American seems to stack up to Fordham better than I though it might. I cut out early to go visit Mr. Cimino-Hurt, who was a teacher at my high school, my advisor, and also the Sensei of our Karate team. He lives in Virginia now, ao I made the trip out there by subway and he picked me up.
It was really cool to see him and his family. His wife was also a teacher at my high school, and really cool, and I'm friends with his sons Alex and Robyn, although only Robyn was home. We had dinner and he drove me to the airport, where I arrived with about 70 minutes to go before my flight...
well, i'm finally back in Eugene after
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