Thy's New York Trip Journal
I haven't updated in a long time because I am extremely lazy, but I felt that the events of the past two days are so freaking ridiculous that I need to record them so I may one day reread and laugh. So here is the mass email I sent out:
Hey guys, before emailing this out, I decided to glance over it first. I realized that I had written these emails in the height of my anger and therefore, you may need to mentally censure out a few of the following words. WARNING: Only read when you have a lot of time on your hands because the following is almost 7 pages' worth of whining from a very mentally unstable Thy.
04/28/2008
I know I should be working on my interview stuff right now, but I can’t seem to concentrate. I’m feeling a mixture of anger and despair and a bit of craziness so intense that I need to write you guys an email to LET IT OUT!
Oh boy, where to begin… I’ve had about one of the worst days of my life. I can never decide if any day is the worst day since my entire life is a freaking struggle, but I’m sure this day must be at the top somewhere. I know that adversity is supposed to make you stronger, but my gosh, give me a freaking break!
I am now sitting on one of the ugly, dirty chairs in Chicago International Airport, in front of Gate B5. It is 11:14 PM (Chicago time). I’m hungry, having not eaten anything except one tiny bag of mini-pretzel supplied by cheap ass United Airlines on my flight here. I can’t buy anything to eat because apparently, all the stores in the airport close after 10pm and will not open again until 4am (at least Starbucks will open at 4, I have my doubts about the other stores). I am dirty, which is not that unusual, but the last time I showered was 24 hours ago. I am tired, having spent over 12 hours either on an airplane or at the airport. My eyes are puffy and red from excessive crying. The only three items I have with me now are my laptop, my cell phone, and my wallet. The former two items are running out of batteries, and I dread the hour when they finally do, and I will be cut off from the rest of the world.
How did this day start out? Well, like any other day in my life, it was deceptively normal. I woke up at 8am and packed for my nice trip to the airport. I arrived at the airport and went through security with relative ease, and ended up with one hour to spare before my flight. At 11:50 am, we all boarded the plane, and I settled down for a nice long flight, closing my eyes to wait for the plane to take off. And I waited. And waited. And waited…
Twenty minutes after our departure time, the pilot came on the speakers to inform us that a great natural calamity, in the form of a light DRIZZLE, had arrived in Chicago. And although the O’Hara International Airport is EXTREMELY EFFICIENT, there was no way they could deal with something as great as water falling from the sky! So they decided to close down one runway and stop all incoming flights that have not taken to the air. As a result of this incredibly intelligent official decision, I and my fellow passengers waited two hours inside our plane, on the runway of LAX airport until Chicago decides to honor us by opening their runways again.
Needless to say, departing LAX two hours later means arriving in O’Hara two hours later. By the time I arrived at 8pm, I had missed my connecting flight to New York, which left at 7pm. Extremely annoyed, but undeterred, I checked the departing board and saw that there was another flight to New York at 8:20pm. I quickly made my way to that gate and was informed that there was no way I would be allowed on the flight since it is completely filled. I was advised to go talk to the machine at the ticketing counter to see when they have rescheduled my flight. A bit more annoyed, but still retaining my sanity, I went in search of the machine. The machine promptly told me that yes, United has been very kind to reschedule my flight to New York, and the flight will be leaving at 11:15am tomorrow morning and arriving in New York at 2:15pm.
Now, as my brain was processing this information, and my blood pressure was shooting up 200 digits, I realized two immediate things. One, I am going to miss my interview for medical school, which takes place at 8am tomorrow. Two, I will be spending the night at the airport. And although I have met with many obstacles in my life, I realized that you never get USED to it. A part of me was still in major denial. There was no way that could be possible. How could I miss my interview, through no fault of mine? Things like this happen to other people! But then, I quickly recall the painful history of my life and realized, yes, things like this DO happen to ME.
So I ran over to customer service, intending to demand that they find me a flight tonight. And while in line, with about a million other people in front of me, who had probably missed their flights because of the same light drizzle, I called everyone I knew. This is how I cope with calamities. Father said it was my fault for booking a flight so close to my interview time. And why aren’t I screaming the building down? Don’t I have a mouth? Use it to complain. Father is useless.
After waiting an hour and a half in line for customer service, I was informed that although they were an INTERNATIONAL airport, they do not have any more flights leaving Chicago for New York tonight. The earliest flight was to be at 6 am, and arriving in New York at 9:30 am. But wait, there is no room on that flight, so it looks like I have to go on the 8am flight, arriving at 11:30am. What is that? You have an interview to go to at 8am? Well, that’s nice, but we don’t give a fuck. What, it’s our fault that we closed down the airport and made you miss your flight? Well, I guess that’s life. Shit happens. You want to go on standby for the 6am flight? Well, I guess you can try, but wait, you have your luggage checked in, and people who checked in their luggage can’t wait for standby flights. You insist on doing standby? Well, all right, but in the extremely slim case that you get on that 6am flight, your luggage will still go on the 8am flight. Oh, you need clothes from your luggage? Well, then you had better wait for the 8am flight. You want to reclaim your luggage right now, to keep it with you and take it as a carry on? Sorry, we don’t do that. Very strict airport policy. I guess you can TRY to go talk to the baggage claim people.
So I made my way downstairs to the baggage claim area.
What, you want to reclaim your luggage? Nope, sorry we don’t do that. Ever. Oh, well your luggage IS at the airport at this very moment. Although where it is EXACTLY we can’t tell you, because that would require us to move our lazy asses to the actual site to find out. Well, if it’s really that important to you, I’ll try to get them to put your luggage on the 6am flight. But there are no promises. How will you know if your luggage made it on? Well, this is what you do. You get on your flight, you fly over to New York, you go down to the baggage claim area and stand there to wait for your luggage to come out. After waiting an hour without seeing it, then you will know that it, in fact, did not make it with you, and is probably on the following flight. We hope.
And so goes my two very enlightening conversations with the airport employees. Conversations which were VERY conductive to my overall health and mental well being. Conversations which most definitely did NOT give me a major migraine headache.
And I was back where I started. Actually, I was a two floors below and a few hundred feet behind where I started, as I now have to go through security again, because I stepped down to the baggage claim area.
And that was the entire story of how I ended up where I am now. My prospects are not very bright at this moment. I have tried to contact the admissions office to leave a message, but they do not have a message machine and told me to stop stalking them and call back during normal business hours like a normal person. Except if I were lucky enough to get on the 6am flight, I would miss the opening of their business hours.
And even if they did agree to accommodate me by giving me an interview time out of the normal interview time, I doubt I would be at my best. After claiming my luggage, I would have to change into my suit in one of the restroom stalls of the New York airport. And put on my make up there. Not much I can do about the dirty hair though. And then comes the 1+ hour trek across Manhattan to get to Valhalla, the actual location of the school. I wonder if I should just go into the restroom at this airport and dip my hair into the sink. Now after all this effort, wouldn’t it just be the perfect cherry on top if I get rejected? Oh, let’s not forget the biochem midterm I must come back to. And all the other classes I missed for this interview.
Oh, life is good. Compared to the starving and dying children in third world countries, life is very good. I know that one day, I will look back on this moment with great amusement. I will wonder what all the tears and hair pulling were for. I will laugh at all my silliness and stress for nothing. I will repeat this cool story at all events. But for now, at least I can look forward to Starbucks opening in four hours so I can buy something to eat. And if this whole trip should turn out for nothing, at least I can say I am wiser for having experienced it.
Concluding thoughts: Fuck Chicago. Fuck O’Hara International Airport. And fuck United Airlines. Will never book a flight landing anywhere NEAR Chicago airport, lest their stupidity and uselessness prove infectious.
04/29/2008
Oh man, I’m doomed to be writing my tales of woe in airports. And the struggle of my life continues. To resume where I last left off. I waited at the airport until 6am and was happy to see that I am third on the standby list. All my harassment and stalking of airport employees the previous night have paid off, and I was soon given a seat on the flight. My only worry then was whether or not my luggage will be on the same flight as me. After 3 hours, I finally arrived in La Guardia airport at 9am. Chels has kindly contacted the admissions office for me while I was on the flight and they told us that I must make it to the school before 11am because none of the faculty members would have time to interview me afterwards. There is also the possibility of rescheduling for the next day, but that would mean rescheduling my flight back home, missing both my biochem lab AND my MAKE UP midterm. And also, to book a flight from New York to LA within a day would cost in the fucking $400 range at least. And the admissions lady wasn’t even sure if there would be a faculty member available the next day. I was torn between waiting for my luggage, to see if it is on the same flight as me, or just quickly rush to the school dressed as I was, in jeans, T-shirt, and oily hair. I asked three different workers to verify if my luggage was on the same flight. They all believe it to be. Just as I was about to give up and rush to the school, I saw my luggage. I quickly grabbed it and dragged it to the nearest restroom, where I changed into my suit and pulled my dirty hair into a ponytail.
Then came the task of finding FAST transportation to where I want to be. Should I take a taxi all the way to the school (it would have probably cost me hundreds of dollars for that kind of trip) or do I take a shuttle to Grand Central for $12, and then take the Metro-North train ($6.50) up to White Plains, where my host had agreed to pick me up? The choice was made for me when I saw a million people in line for the taxi. The shuttle came and dropped me off at Grand Central. As if my day hasn’t been perfect already, it was raining. Lugging my suitcase quickly across the street in the rain, I made it to the ticket counter and bought the next trip, which would not leave the train station until 10:45am. It was currently 10:40am.
After getting on the train, I called the admissions lady again (for the millionth time that morning). I had a very long speech prepared in my mind about how far I’ve come for this interview, how much I’ve gone through to get there, and all because I really want to be at the school, so couldn’t she please tell the faculty members that and beg one of them to spare some time for me in the afternoon? Luckily, the admissions lady was more sympathetic towards my plight than the entire staff at Chicago airport. She had found a faculty member willing to interview me in the afternoon. I have missed the entire morning of the interview day, but I can still make it to the tour of the school and lunch afterwards if I hurry. Next, I called my host student to tell her my schedule, and she kindly agreed to pick me up from White Plains station. At 11:20am, I arrived and was brought back to her dorm room. I was able to quickly shower and blow dry my hair before she led me to the admissions office. Thankfully, the office was literally 2 minutes away. The nice admissions lady, whom I think is the associate dean of admissions, sent me off with meal card to catch up with the other interviewees on tour. I joined everyone else for the last half of the tour and lunch. At 1pm, I head back to the admissions office to receive the interview package and sent off to my interview at 2pm.
The interview itself was BLAH. I’m not sure how else to describe it. I don’t know if it’s just me or because I’ve been through so much in the past couple of hours, but I just couldn’t be all that enthusiastic. The actual details of the interview are too painful to recall, but apparently, all the interviewers had heard about my story. And they all thought it quite amusing. So I’m probably not going to get into this school and will have to start thinking about plan B. Oh well.
And just when you think that must be the end of my story…I have yet to report about the RETURN trip. When I booked my flights on this interview, I was under the impression that interview day would be over by 1:30pm, which is true…for the other students. But thanks to my delayed and cancelled flights the previous day, my interview day actually ended at 3pm. At this point, I am a bit worried about making my flight back home. Since my flight back home actually leaves from MacArthur Airport in Long Island, I had to make my way from the Medical College in Valhalla, to Manhattan, and then on to Long Island.
I knew exactly where I needed to go, it was just impossible to get to all those places in time. I took a taxi from the admissions office to the White Plains train station. Arrived at 3:45pm. Quickly bought a ticket for the next train at 3:58pm. Took the train for White Plains to Grand Central Station (about 45 minutes away). Ran around Grand Central station to find the S subway (had to pause for a few minutes to buy a metro card). Took the S subway to 42nd st & Times Square, then went a very, very long way underground to transfer to the #2 subway downtown to get to Penn Station at 34th St & 7th Ave.
Oh yea, it is not fun to run around New York City in high heels. While dragging your luggage up and down the stairs. And getting harassed by fucking weirdos on the subway who just doesn’t know to fucking leave me alone when I’m already stressed out and pissed off. One such asshole decided to yell really loudly that I need to stop touching his ass with my bag because he doesn’t like it. WTF. Being on such a crowded subway, I could not move away like I would have done normally. And when the fucker hit my bag away from his side, I could not repress the urge to turn around and say “EXCUSE ME, you need to stop TOUCHING my bag because it doesn’t like it!” in a subway car full of people. Felt proud of myself for about three seconds until asshole started cussing at me, then felt intense fear for my life for the next five seconds until my stop came up and I could quickly leave.
Finally found Penn station at 33rd St & 7th Ave (not without some fuckers trying to point me in the wrong way though). Okay, I have decided that story needs to be told. I knew that Penn Station was on 33rd & 7th, having perused the map at Grand Station closely. But when I got to the corner, I couldn’t see the building (forgetting from my last trip with camile two years ago that you actually have to go underground for the station). So I stopped to ask these two guys on the corner. And now that I think about it, I should have been wiser about whom to ask. They were probably stupid high school students. They told me that they had no idea where Penn Station was and pointed in the opposite direction. I stared at them suspiciously. They don’t look like tourists, so how could anyone living in fucking new york not know where fucking penn station is, especially when you’re fucking standing on the corner of its address! Luckily for me, a guy in a business suit happened to pass by at that moment and heard me questioning them. He stopped to tell me that I was in the correct place and Penn station was actually hidden underneath the huge advertisement sign to my left. I quickly glared at the two fuckers (who were laughing), thanked the nice man, and rushed down to buy a ticket for the train to Rokonoma station in Long Island. Thank goodness there are SOME nice people left in New York. That also reminded me that I met a nice guy who carried my luggage up the stairs for me in the subway station. It could have been because I was going at a snail pace, slower than the old lady with the cane to my left, and blocking everyone in my path, including himself. But I still like to think that he also did it out of the kindness of his heart.
Anyways, I got my train ticket, and found that the next train would leave at 5:22 and arrive in Long Island at 6:38pm. My flight was at 6:47pm. By that time, I knew that I would miss my flight because once at the train station, I would need to get a taxi to the airport, about a 5 minute ride away. And this is the time to bitch some more about Chicago airport. I found out that the flight I had missed was actually headed for Chicago. So, the ONE time when I NEEDED their inefficiency, DEPENDED on their inability to have an ON TIME flight, they FAILED me. The plane left ON TIME, at exactly 6:47pm. Fuckers.
Having missed my flight, I decided to stop at a restaurant at the train station and take my time eating. My cell phone, remember the one that has been running out of batteries since yesterday but I never had a chance to recharge because I’ve been literally running everywhere to make it to places on time? Well, that cell phone was still running out of batteries, and finally died on me at the train station. Chels had to go and reschedule my missed flight, and the only one they would give me is the one leaving tomorrow morning at 10 am. And arriving in LA at 4pm. UGH.
I am definitely not going to make it back in time for my make up biochem midterm. Never mind the fact that I haven’t even started studying for it. After finishing my food at the restaurant, I took a taxi to the airport and tried to check in. But the people at the counter said that you are not allowed to check in until 4 hours before your flight. Which means I can check in at 5 or 6am. So not only am I stuck at the airport, I am not even allowed INTO the airport. I have to sit in the waiting area in front of the check in counters. Good thing they have electrical outlets for me to plug in my laptop and cell phone so that I may continue my ranting to you guys.
Yes, that is the summary of my last two days. I challenge anyone else to have a more fantastic, eventful two days than I have. I bet you don’t get this kind of heart-pounding adventure on your vacations. And I’m not even ON vacation. I can’t be entirely sure, without access to two mirrors, but I think I have grown a handful of white hairs since Monday afternoon. I need to check my blood pressure when I return. I also need to have a nice, fun vacation in New York with my family soon, because fucking new york city is starting to grate on my nerves. If I had known that I would be stuck here until 10 in the morning, I would have stayed in New York City and gone to see Les Miserables on broadway. I can’t even get online! Oh, the horror! And I’m so thirsty, but all the stores at the airport are closed!
Now, can one of you please cheer me up by telling me what a resilient person I am?
04/30/2008
I am now back in Chicago. My 10:25am flight from Long Island left without delay. While waiting for that flight, I had attempted to study for my biochem midterm, but unfortunately, the moment I start reading, I was overwhelmed by an incredible drowsiness. And my brain actually blanked out for a minute or two, still staring at the words. Then I would quickly blink my eyes and tried to focus again, and the feeling would return, and the cycle continues. So I gave up on studying, but could not overcome the sleepiness, except it was too difficult to sleep in the airport. From midnight to 5am, the airport must have frozen over, and I couldn’t sit still for all the shivering. By the time they let me through security to the gate (no earlier than 6:25am), it has thankfully warmed up somewhat. But by this time, the airport has come to life, and so many people are milling about, taking up my sleeping space! Hmph. And as I tried to sleep, lying across three chairs, these stupid kids ran up to my chair and screamed to their parents, “Mommyyyy, looooook! What is she doing??” “Shh! Be quiet; the lady is trying to sleep!” Haha, freaking hilarious. Then they started jumping up and down on the chairs next to mine. Since all the chairs in that row were somewhat connected, I felt the impact from where I was lying, and had to resist the extreme urge to sit up and kick their asses off the chair. Even after those annoying kids boarded their own plane, I couldn’t sleep for more than an hour because the arm that my head was using as a pillow had lost all blood circulation and the pain was unbearable. I would have switched sides, but that would mean facing the backs of the chairs and leaving my bags unattended.
When I finally got onto my plane, I immediately passed out until arriving in Chicago. Even now, I’m struggling with the drowsiness, but no sleeping space available. Must wait for flight back to LA to sleep. As I was checking the departure monitors to find my next boarding gate, I almost had a heart attack when I saw that of the 3 flights to LA, none of them were mine. For one horrible moment, I thought that my flight had been cancelled, and that, for the 3rd night of this trip, I would have to sleep at the airport once more. Fortunately, I took a deep breath and decided to just move onto concourse B first. 10 minutes later, they updated their monitors, and my flight showed up. Insert big fucking sigh of relief here. In the meantime, I had thought to buy a nice souvenir of Chicago from the airport, to commemorate my one night stay here, but then I remembered that I am boycotting all things Chicago and therefore, would not be wasting a penny of my money on this city. This decision came about some time between 3 and 4am of the first night in Chicago, when I was freezing my ass off and battling a major migraine. I invite you all to join in my hate towards Chicago. What I did spend money on, though, was lots of crappy, expensive airport food. That was one of my biggest regrets here, haha, I didn’t have the strength to hold out. But I was hungry and depressed! Ugh, but I’m not going to even attempt to calculate how much money I spent on this trip. Must repress all bad memories.
FINALLY back in my apartment! Time to pull an all nighter for that biochem midterm tomorrow morning. How is it possible that I don’t know the answer to ANY of the practice questions? Ugh, but first, to wash out all the grime and crap from a night at the airport. Oh yea, when I was boarding the plane, I found out that the flight from Chicago to LA, also continued on to San Jose. When I landed in LAX, I had this huge urge to just sit still and let the plane take me back home to Kuni! I was considering the consequences of missing school for the rest of the week. But oh, stupid biochem midterm and stupid biochem lab.
All right, I was going to put up a list of lessons I’ve learned from this whole experience, but I think I’ve rambled on for long enough. I won’t waste any more of my precious studying time on this trip. Time to go eat dorm food with Camile. Yay!
Hey guys, before emailing this out, I decided to glance over it first. I realized that I had written these emails in the height of my anger and therefore, you may need to mentally censure out a few of the following words. WARNING: Only read when you have a lot of time on your hands because the following is almost 7 pages' worth of whining from a very mentally unstable Thy.
04/28/2008
I know I should be working on my interview stuff right now, but I can’t seem to concentrate. I’m feeling a mixture of anger and despair and a bit of craziness so intense that I need to write you guys an email to LET IT OUT!
Oh boy, where to begin… I’ve had about one of the worst days of my life. I can never decide if any day is the worst day since my entire life is a freaking struggle, but I’m sure this day must be at the top somewhere. I know that adversity is supposed to make you stronger, but my gosh, give me a freaking break!
I am now sitting on one of the ugly, dirty chairs in Chicago International Airport, in front of Gate B5. It is 11:14 PM (Chicago time). I’m hungry, having not eaten anything except one tiny bag of mini-pretzel supplied by cheap ass United Airlines on my flight here. I can’t buy anything to eat because apparently, all the stores in the airport close after 10pm and will not open again until 4am (at least Starbucks will open at 4, I have my doubts about the other stores). I am dirty, which is not that unusual, but the last time I showered was 24 hours ago. I am tired, having spent over 12 hours either on an airplane or at the airport. My eyes are puffy and red from excessive crying. The only three items I have with me now are my laptop, my cell phone, and my wallet. The former two items are running out of batteries, and I dread the hour when they finally do, and I will be cut off from the rest of the world.
How did this day start out? Well, like any other day in my life, it was deceptively normal. I woke up at 8am and packed for my nice trip to the airport. I arrived at the airport and went through security with relative ease, and ended up with one hour to spare before my flight. At 11:50 am, we all boarded the plane, and I settled down for a nice long flight, closing my eyes to wait for the plane to take off. And I waited. And waited. And waited…
Twenty minutes after our departure time, the pilot came on the speakers to inform us that a great natural calamity, in the form of a light DRIZZLE, had arrived in Chicago. And although the O’Hara International Airport is EXTREMELY EFFICIENT, there was no way they could deal with something as great as water falling from the sky! So they decided to close down one runway and stop all incoming flights that have not taken to the air. As a result of this incredibly intelligent official decision, I and my fellow passengers waited two hours inside our plane, on the runway of LAX airport until Chicago decides to honor us by opening their runways again.
Needless to say, departing LAX two hours later means arriving in O’Hara two hours later. By the time I arrived at 8pm, I had missed my connecting flight to New York, which left at 7pm. Extremely annoyed, but undeterred, I checked the departing board and saw that there was another flight to New York at 8:20pm. I quickly made my way to that gate and was informed that there was no way I would be allowed on the flight since it is completely filled. I was advised to go talk to the machine at the ticketing counter to see when they have rescheduled my flight. A bit more annoyed, but still retaining my sanity, I went in search of the machine. The machine promptly told me that yes, United has been very kind to reschedule my flight to New York, and the flight will be leaving at 11:15am tomorrow morning and arriving in New York at 2:15pm.
Now, as my brain was processing this information, and my blood pressure was shooting up 200 digits, I realized two immediate things. One, I am going to miss my interview for medical school, which takes place at 8am tomorrow. Two, I will be spending the night at the airport. And although I have met with many obstacles in my life, I realized that you never get USED to it. A part of me was still in major denial. There was no way that could be possible. How could I miss my interview, through no fault of mine? Things like this happen to other people! But then, I quickly recall the painful history of my life and realized, yes, things like this DO happen to ME.
So I ran over to customer service, intending to demand that they find me a flight tonight. And while in line, with about a million other people in front of me, who had probably missed their flights because of the same light drizzle, I called everyone I knew. This is how I cope with calamities. Father said it was my fault for booking a flight so close to my interview time. And why aren’t I screaming the building down? Don’t I have a mouth? Use it to complain. Father is useless.
After waiting an hour and a half in line for customer service, I was informed that although they were an INTERNATIONAL airport, they do not have any more flights leaving Chicago for New York tonight. The earliest flight was to be at 6 am, and arriving in New York at 9:30 am. But wait, there is no room on that flight, so it looks like I have to go on the 8am flight, arriving at 11:30am. What is that? You have an interview to go to at 8am? Well, that’s nice, but we don’t give a fuck. What, it’s our fault that we closed down the airport and made you miss your flight? Well, I guess that’s life. Shit happens. You want to go on standby for the 6am flight? Well, I guess you can try, but wait, you have your luggage checked in, and people who checked in their luggage can’t wait for standby flights. You insist on doing standby? Well, all right, but in the extremely slim case that you get on that 6am flight, your luggage will still go on the 8am flight. Oh, you need clothes from your luggage? Well, then you had better wait for the 8am flight. You want to reclaim your luggage right now, to keep it with you and take it as a carry on? Sorry, we don’t do that. Very strict airport policy. I guess you can TRY to go talk to the baggage claim people.
So I made my way downstairs to the baggage claim area.
What, you want to reclaim your luggage? Nope, sorry we don’t do that. Ever. Oh, well your luggage IS at the airport at this very moment. Although where it is EXACTLY we can’t tell you, because that would require us to move our lazy asses to the actual site to find out. Well, if it’s really that important to you, I’ll try to get them to put your luggage on the 6am flight. But there are no promises. How will you know if your luggage made it on? Well, this is what you do. You get on your flight, you fly over to New York, you go down to the baggage claim area and stand there to wait for your luggage to come out. After waiting an hour without seeing it, then you will know that it, in fact, did not make it with you, and is probably on the following flight. We hope.
And so goes my two very enlightening conversations with the airport employees. Conversations which were VERY conductive to my overall health and mental well being. Conversations which most definitely did NOT give me a major migraine headache.
And I was back where I started. Actually, I was a two floors below and a few hundred feet behind where I started, as I now have to go through security again, because I stepped down to the baggage claim area.
And that was the entire story of how I ended up where I am now. My prospects are not very bright at this moment. I have tried to contact the admissions office to leave a message, but they do not have a message machine and told me to stop stalking them and call back during normal business hours like a normal person. Except if I were lucky enough to get on the 6am flight, I would miss the opening of their business hours.
And even if they did agree to accommodate me by giving me an interview time out of the normal interview time, I doubt I would be at my best. After claiming my luggage, I would have to change into my suit in one of the restroom stalls of the New York airport. And put on my make up there. Not much I can do about the dirty hair though. And then comes the 1+ hour trek across Manhattan to get to Valhalla, the actual location of the school. I wonder if I should just go into the restroom at this airport and dip my hair into the sink. Now after all this effort, wouldn’t it just be the perfect cherry on top if I get rejected? Oh, let’s not forget the biochem midterm I must come back to. And all the other classes I missed for this interview.
Oh, life is good. Compared to the starving and dying children in third world countries, life is very good. I know that one day, I will look back on this moment with great amusement. I will wonder what all the tears and hair pulling were for. I will laugh at all my silliness and stress for nothing. I will repeat this cool story at all events. But for now, at least I can look forward to Starbucks opening in four hours so I can buy something to eat. And if this whole trip should turn out for nothing, at least I can say I am wiser for having experienced it.
Concluding thoughts: Fuck Chicago. Fuck O’Hara International Airport. And fuck United Airlines. Will never book a flight landing anywhere NEAR Chicago airport, lest their stupidity and uselessness prove infectious.
04/29/2008
Oh man, I’m doomed to be writing my tales of woe in airports. And the struggle of my life continues. To resume where I last left off. I waited at the airport until 6am and was happy to see that I am third on the standby list. All my harassment and stalking of airport employees the previous night have paid off, and I was soon given a seat on the flight. My only worry then was whether or not my luggage will be on the same flight as me. After 3 hours, I finally arrived in La Guardia airport at 9am. Chels has kindly contacted the admissions office for me while I was on the flight and they told us that I must make it to the school before 11am because none of the faculty members would have time to interview me afterwards. There is also the possibility of rescheduling for the next day, but that would mean rescheduling my flight back home, missing both my biochem lab AND my MAKE UP midterm. And also, to book a flight from New York to LA within a day would cost in the fucking $400 range at least. And the admissions lady wasn’t even sure if there would be a faculty member available the next day. I was torn between waiting for my luggage, to see if it is on the same flight as me, or just quickly rush to the school dressed as I was, in jeans, T-shirt, and oily hair. I asked three different workers to verify if my luggage was on the same flight. They all believe it to be. Just as I was about to give up and rush to the school, I saw my luggage. I quickly grabbed it and dragged it to the nearest restroom, where I changed into my suit and pulled my dirty hair into a ponytail.
Then came the task of finding FAST transportation to where I want to be. Should I take a taxi all the way to the school (it would have probably cost me hundreds of dollars for that kind of trip) or do I take a shuttle to Grand Central for $12, and then take the Metro-North train ($6.50) up to White Plains, where my host had agreed to pick me up? The choice was made for me when I saw a million people in line for the taxi. The shuttle came and dropped me off at Grand Central. As if my day hasn’t been perfect already, it was raining. Lugging my suitcase quickly across the street in the rain, I made it to the ticket counter and bought the next trip, which would not leave the train station until 10:45am. It was currently 10:40am.
After getting on the train, I called the admissions lady again (for the millionth time that morning). I had a very long speech prepared in my mind about how far I’ve come for this interview, how much I’ve gone through to get there, and all because I really want to be at the school, so couldn’t she please tell the faculty members that and beg one of them to spare some time for me in the afternoon? Luckily, the admissions lady was more sympathetic towards my plight than the entire staff at Chicago airport. She had found a faculty member willing to interview me in the afternoon. I have missed the entire morning of the interview day, but I can still make it to the tour of the school and lunch afterwards if I hurry. Next, I called my host student to tell her my schedule, and she kindly agreed to pick me up from White Plains station. At 11:20am, I arrived and was brought back to her dorm room. I was able to quickly shower and blow dry my hair before she led me to the admissions office. Thankfully, the office was literally 2 minutes away. The nice admissions lady, whom I think is the associate dean of admissions, sent me off with meal card to catch up with the other interviewees on tour. I joined everyone else for the last half of the tour and lunch. At 1pm, I head back to the admissions office to receive the interview package and sent off to my interview at 2pm.
The interview itself was BLAH. I’m not sure how else to describe it. I don’t know if it’s just me or because I’ve been through so much in the past couple of hours, but I just couldn’t be all that enthusiastic. The actual details of the interview are too painful to recall, but apparently, all the interviewers had heard about my story. And they all thought it quite amusing. So I’m probably not going to get into this school and will have to start thinking about plan B. Oh well.
And just when you think that must be the end of my story…I have yet to report about the RETURN trip. When I booked my flights on this interview, I was under the impression that interview day would be over by 1:30pm, which is true…for the other students. But thanks to my delayed and cancelled flights the previous day, my interview day actually ended at 3pm. At this point, I am a bit worried about making my flight back home. Since my flight back home actually leaves from MacArthur Airport in Long Island, I had to make my way from the Medical College in Valhalla, to Manhattan, and then on to Long Island.
I knew exactly where I needed to go, it was just impossible to get to all those places in time. I took a taxi from the admissions office to the White Plains train station. Arrived at 3:45pm. Quickly bought a ticket for the next train at 3:58pm. Took the train for White Plains to Grand Central Station (about 45 minutes away). Ran around Grand Central station to find the S subway (had to pause for a few minutes to buy a metro card). Took the S subway to 42nd st & Times Square, then went a very, very long way underground to transfer to the #2 subway downtown to get to Penn Station at 34th St & 7th Ave.
Oh yea, it is not fun to run around New York City in high heels. While dragging your luggage up and down the stairs. And getting harassed by fucking weirdos on the subway who just doesn’t know to fucking leave me alone when I’m already stressed out and pissed off. One such asshole decided to yell really loudly that I need to stop touching his ass with my bag because he doesn’t like it. WTF. Being on such a crowded subway, I could not move away like I would have done normally. And when the fucker hit my bag away from his side, I could not repress the urge to turn around and say “EXCUSE ME, you need to stop TOUCHING my bag because it doesn’t like it!” in a subway car full of people. Felt proud of myself for about three seconds until asshole started cussing at me, then felt intense fear for my life for the next five seconds until my stop came up and I could quickly leave.
Finally found Penn station at 33rd St & 7th Ave (not without some fuckers trying to point me in the wrong way though). Okay, I have decided that story needs to be told. I knew that Penn Station was on 33rd & 7th, having perused the map at Grand Station closely. But when I got to the corner, I couldn’t see the building (forgetting from my last trip with camile two years ago that you actually have to go underground for the station). So I stopped to ask these two guys on the corner. And now that I think about it, I should have been wiser about whom to ask. They were probably stupid high school students. They told me that they had no idea where Penn Station was and pointed in the opposite direction. I stared at them suspiciously. They don’t look like tourists, so how could anyone living in fucking new york not know where fucking penn station is, especially when you’re fucking standing on the corner of its address! Luckily for me, a guy in a business suit happened to pass by at that moment and heard me questioning them. He stopped to tell me that I was in the correct place and Penn station was actually hidden underneath the huge advertisement sign to my left. I quickly glared at the two fuckers (who were laughing), thanked the nice man, and rushed down to buy a ticket for the train to Rokonoma station in Long Island. Thank goodness there are SOME nice people left in New York. That also reminded me that I met a nice guy who carried my luggage up the stairs for me in the subway station. It could have been because I was going at a snail pace, slower than the old lady with the cane to my left, and blocking everyone in my path, including himself. But I still like to think that he also did it out of the kindness of his heart.
Anyways, I got my train ticket, and found that the next train would leave at 5:22 and arrive in Long Island at 6:38pm. My flight was at 6:47pm. By that time, I knew that I would miss my flight because once at the train station, I would need to get a taxi to the airport, about a 5 minute ride away. And this is the time to bitch some more about Chicago airport. I found out that the flight I had missed was actually headed for Chicago. So, the ONE time when I NEEDED their inefficiency, DEPENDED on their inability to have an ON TIME flight, they FAILED me. The plane left ON TIME, at exactly 6:47pm. Fuckers.
Having missed my flight, I decided to stop at a restaurant at the train station and take my time eating. My cell phone, remember the one that has been running out of batteries since yesterday but I never had a chance to recharge because I’ve been literally running everywhere to make it to places on time? Well, that cell phone was still running out of batteries, and finally died on me at the train station. Chels had to go and reschedule my missed flight, and the only one they would give me is the one leaving tomorrow morning at 10 am. And arriving in LA at 4pm. UGH.
I am definitely not going to make it back in time for my make up biochem midterm. Never mind the fact that I haven’t even started studying for it. After finishing my food at the restaurant, I took a taxi to the airport and tried to check in. But the people at the counter said that you are not allowed to check in until 4 hours before your flight. Which means I can check in at 5 or 6am. So not only am I stuck at the airport, I am not even allowed INTO the airport. I have to sit in the waiting area in front of the check in counters. Good thing they have electrical outlets for me to plug in my laptop and cell phone so that I may continue my ranting to you guys.
Yes, that is the summary of my last two days. I challenge anyone else to have a more fantastic, eventful two days than I have. I bet you don’t get this kind of heart-pounding adventure on your vacations. And I’m not even ON vacation. I can’t be entirely sure, without access to two mirrors, but I think I have grown a handful of white hairs since Monday afternoon. I need to check my blood pressure when I return. I also need to have a nice, fun vacation in New York with my family soon, because fucking new york city is starting to grate on my nerves. If I had known that I would be stuck here until 10 in the morning, I would have stayed in New York City and gone to see Les Miserables on broadway. I can’t even get online! Oh, the horror! And I’m so thirsty, but all the stores at the airport are closed!
Now, can one of you please cheer me up by telling me what a resilient person I am?
04/30/2008
I am now back in Chicago. My 10:25am flight from Long Island left without delay. While waiting for that flight, I had attempted to study for my biochem midterm, but unfortunately, the moment I start reading, I was overwhelmed by an incredible drowsiness. And my brain actually blanked out for a minute or two, still staring at the words. Then I would quickly blink my eyes and tried to focus again, and the feeling would return, and the cycle continues. So I gave up on studying, but could not overcome the sleepiness, except it was too difficult to sleep in the airport. From midnight to 5am, the airport must have frozen over, and I couldn’t sit still for all the shivering. By the time they let me through security to the gate (no earlier than 6:25am), it has thankfully warmed up somewhat. But by this time, the airport has come to life, and so many people are milling about, taking up my sleeping space! Hmph. And as I tried to sleep, lying across three chairs, these stupid kids ran up to my chair and screamed to their parents, “Mommyyyy, looooook! What is she doing??” “Shh! Be quiet; the lady is trying to sleep!” Haha, freaking hilarious. Then they started jumping up and down on the chairs next to mine. Since all the chairs in that row were somewhat connected, I felt the impact from where I was lying, and had to resist the extreme urge to sit up and kick their asses off the chair. Even after those annoying kids boarded their own plane, I couldn’t sleep for more than an hour because the arm that my head was using as a pillow had lost all blood circulation and the pain was unbearable. I would have switched sides, but that would mean facing the backs of the chairs and leaving my bags unattended.
When I finally got onto my plane, I immediately passed out until arriving in Chicago. Even now, I’m struggling with the drowsiness, but no sleeping space available. Must wait for flight back to LA to sleep. As I was checking the departure monitors to find my next boarding gate, I almost had a heart attack when I saw that of the 3 flights to LA, none of them were mine. For one horrible moment, I thought that my flight had been cancelled, and that, for the 3rd night of this trip, I would have to sleep at the airport once more. Fortunately, I took a deep breath and decided to just move onto concourse B first. 10 minutes later, they updated their monitors, and my flight showed up. Insert big fucking sigh of relief here. In the meantime, I had thought to buy a nice souvenir of Chicago from the airport, to commemorate my one night stay here, but then I remembered that I am boycotting all things Chicago and therefore, would not be wasting a penny of my money on this city. This decision came about some time between 3 and 4am of the first night in Chicago, when I was freezing my ass off and battling a major migraine. I invite you all to join in my hate towards Chicago. What I did spend money on, though, was lots of crappy, expensive airport food. That was one of my biggest regrets here, haha, I didn’t have the strength to hold out. But I was hungry and depressed! Ugh, but I’m not going to even attempt to calculate how much money I spent on this trip. Must repress all bad memories.
FINALLY back in my apartment! Time to pull an all nighter for that biochem midterm tomorrow morning. How is it possible that I don’t know the answer to ANY of the practice questions? Ugh, but first, to wash out all the grime and crap from a night at the airport. Oh yea, when I was boarding the plane, I found out that the flight from Chicago to LA, also continued on to San Jose. When I landed in LAX, I had this huge urge to just sit still and let the plane take me back home to Kuni! I was considering the consequences of missing school for the rest of the week. But oh, stupid biochem midterm and stupid biochem lab.
All right, I was going to put up a list of lessons I’ve learned from this whole experience, but I think I’ve rambled on for long enough. I won’t waste any more of my precious studying time on this trip. Time to go eat dorm food with Camile. Yay!