A series of events

Well, I am in Ballyvaughan after two days of travel! Before I get into the beauty of this place, let me first tell why people do not travel alone. For starters, it's terrifying and want to say that you are brave and not worried but that is only a lie that you must tell yourself in order to do it. So, fine, my Dad brings me to the airport Thursday morning; I am nervous but feel OK. I find my gate and sit and wait to board. Of course, it doesn't really feel like I have gone anywhere because I see a Becker student that will be on the same plane. At this point, I am thankful for security because I know I am at the top of his least favorite people list. Anyway, this flight is delayed roughly 45 minutes. Knowing that I need to catch a connecting flight, I am anxious but still confident. The turbulence on the plane isn't horrible, I am still OK. The next stop (Chicago), is not fun. I realize that working at an airport may not be fun but so far I can't think of anything that I have done that would be so offensive to the person at the desk who has to assign me to a seat. She is convinced that I had to transfer otherwise I would surely have a seat. I assure her that I haven't but she is not happy. On the flight to Manchester, I am on the aisle which is not a bad place to be. Turbulence is starting to make me sick but at least we are on time. Oh wait, only sort of. While it is in fact the only flight that took off on time, we were not able to get off the plane once we landed as the pilot didn't park in the appropriate place and we had no way of actually getting off of the plane. I am only slightly worried at this point. It wasn't until we had to go through custums that I freaked out. I couldn't find my passport and I started to get flashbacks of the angry lady in Chicago who hung onto my passport for an awfully long time and suddenly, I can't remember getting it back. I frantically sort through my bag and can't find it. I RAN back to the plane and ask the people who are waiting outside of it, ready to clean, if I can go back and look for my passport. They couldn't let me back in but they were going to look. I was praying to St. Anthony for help and I got this strange feeling to turn around and BAM, there is my passport, resting on the top of my bag! You may not believe in miracles but I know that I did not have it and that it could not have possibly been laying onto like that, especially after I RAN back to the plane. So, gratefully, I go back to custums and wait in line. I am the very last person that they let through. They did not seem convinced of my artist residency. Apparently, I looked shady but I am hoping it was the need for a shower and not my character. Once I make it through, I see one of bags. I am grateful until I realize, it is sitting in front of the counter for lost luggage. Yes, you guessed it, only one of my bags made it. The other is still in Chicago (I curse the angry lady a thousand times). There is nothing to do at this point, I am running behind and know that I need to catch my next flight or the day will only get worse. Well, I HATE the Manchester airport! It is crazy huge, multiple buildings, and I can't understand anyone. Nobody is at the desk that I need to check into. I have to hang out and wait and hope someone will eventually be there before I need to leave. Luckily, someone finally did come after and hour and a half. Also lucky for me, he liked my accent and I was allowed to board without paying for my luggage even though it was 5 kilos overweight. My next task is to find the gate. However, my gate is not listed, only the building. It is apparently my job to check the board often to find the gate and time to board because they won't make any announcements. At this point, I am exhausted because it is now close to 3 am in MN. I was scared that I would finally fall asleep only to miss my next flight so I mostly stood thinking that I couldn't fall asleep. The massive hunger also helped. I knew I didn't have time to get a real meal so I was left with chips and peanuts. Turns out my flight was delayed close to 3 hours but only in 15 minute increments so that I was continually thinking that I would be boarding in the next 15 minutes and then they would name the gate and I would need to run there. The plane was crazy small and not comfortable. We flew into such a small airport that we were the only people coming in and there was only one baggage check which consisted a wall with our luggage by it. After reporting my lost bag, I now need to get a taxi to the bus station. As it turns out, I can't say the name of the town that I want to head to with the right accent so he took me to the wrong bus station but I was able to clear that up before he left me there. Once I bought my ticket, I had to wait for close to two hours with the one large piece of luggage so that left me little option of going anywhere but I did people watch. The bus ride was interesting because I couldn't understand the bus driver (I think he said the names of the towns in Gaelic). Eventually I got her and was brought to the house I am staying in. I am glad that I brought one towel because I need it. I am sad that my deoderant, shampoo, tampons, benedril and such items have not made it and am praying that they arrive soon. I am needless to say a mess. Last night, I was wondering what the hell I got myself into. Today, I am doing much better, I went for a walk and one of the housemates brought me to the school so I could email. I already feel disconnected to everyone since there is no phone in the house and the school is a mile and a half away. I know it will get better though. Steve, the housemate that brought me here, is going to let me join the class he is teaching on Monday when they go on a trip as long as there is room on the bus.