How I ended up in Portland

Ace Hotel Elliot Smith random flickr "made in oregon sign"

Yesterday was a pretty stressful day. I woke up at 4 in the morning with plans to fly to San Francisco, enjoy a nice long layover (3 hours) in SFO airport and then i was to get on an airplane to Salt Lake City. I would then be picked up, taken to a nice warm home full of old friends and go to sleep. It was going to be a simple day. Well, that didn't happen. Instead of enjoying a nice long layover in SFO, I spent over ten hours there. Sure, the first few hours were fine. I got myself a bread bowl full of broccoli cheddar soup, spilled a little of it on my shirt, set up a laundry room in the bathroom to get the soup out of said shirt and read a magazine. Marie Claire to be exact. I also visited the "Just Desserts" counter for some mango sorbet. It seemed typical. But then I got bumped off of my flight to Salt Lake (an exceptional friend has provided me with flight benefits so I fly stand by) I started to get a little antsy. 

"No big deal!" I told myself, "You will get on the next flight. You have been here a long time, but no need to feel like Tom Hanks in Terminal... everything is going to be fine"  

There were several more flights and plenty of time to get on one of them. However, several more hours passed and I found out that not only was I not getting on the next flight but, the next flight didn't leave until 8 in the morning. I also realized that during my extended stay at SFO I had bonded with a special corner in the airport and some one else was now sitting in it. They too had noticed it for it's exceedingly convenient qualities, They had their electronics all plugged in to my outlet and they were enjoying my great view of the monitor. It was a prize spot, and trust me, I was in that airport long enough to know a prize spot when I saw one. I didn't feel like Tom Hanks anymore but like Gollum from Lord Of The Rings. I was Gollum and that spot was my precious. I was tired and lost and getting so irrational. Tiredness and frustration make me a ridiculous person. The rude ticket agent told me (with out ever once looking at me) that my chances for getting on the morning flight to Salt Lake were the same as they had been all day. NOT GOOD. I was stuck.

So, after shedding a few tears out of frustration I walked up to Juan-Paul at the ticket counter, informed him that his co-workers were very rude, complimented his long slicked back hair, and begged him to get me on the last flight to Portland that night. The only place I wanted to go was home. The stars must have suddenly aligned because I got on that plane. I ordered milk on the flight, dipped the Oreo's in it that Conor had packed for me 20 hours earlier and fell asleep. My dad picked me up from the airport and took me home to sleep in my old bed. My mom had turned my space heater up to 88 degrees just how I like it and I snuggled under 2 down comforters. I love home. After feeling like a needle in a haystack for so many hours I was so happy to finally be in the one place I know I always belong. I love home, I love my mom and dad and I love Portland.

PS. Janelle, thank you for being my friend. Thank you for everything you do for me. I am blessed to have you in my life.