Stranded in San Francisco

Leaving home was a little harder to do than I thought. In my head I imagined myself boarding the plane with this air of independence, bravely facing whatever adventures lay ahead of me; however, that wasn't quite the scene that played out. The time leading up to my departure almost seemed scripted. I went through all the motions of my preparation for Thailand, but when the time came for me to leave, it was almost surreal. I think the actual idea of what I was doing hit me in the car on the way to the airport. At that moment, having to say my last goodbyes to my parents, I realized how far and secluded I was really going to be. My friends and family are such a wonderful support system, and it was then that I knew I would miss being able to contact them. I am so blessed with so many wonderful people in my life, which makes it so hard to leave them. I spent the rest of the morning fighting back the urge to tear up. However, feelings of sadness and homesickness were soon replaced by frustration after I reported to the ticketing agent upon hearing my name being paged throughout the San Francisco International Airport terminal. When I reported to the desk, I found out that due to a problem with Terri and my boarding pass, they sold our seats, and we were not going to be able to get another flight until June 9th. After what seemed like an eternity of pointless arguing with the ticketing agent (which I was continually regretting in my head because of my dad's shrewd advice to always stay on the good side of the ticketing agents or reap the havoc their powerful wrath can bring), Terri and I managed to get listed on the next day's flights as well as a night's stay at the Hyatt Regency. After scoping out our hotel room and free amenities, I realized that being bumped from a flight is not always a bad thing. After an interesting Italian dinner, Terre and I went to scope out the city by the bay. With episodes of Full House flashing in my head, we took the BART to Union Square and hitched a ride on the trolley up to Fisherman's Wharf. We met several interesting people on our excursion. One man we met on the BART assumed our mission trip was with the LDS, which I later realized was the not-so-secret acronym for Mormons. As I was admiring the houses on the trolley ride, it seemed so unreal to me that people actually lived in them. From time to time, I experience a Truman Show type of mentality (which might also be called self-centered by some) where it is hard for me to come to terms with the thought of an entire world existing outside of my little bubble. Once we stepped off the trolley, Terri and I realized just how cold San Francisco was, and just how unprepared we were for it. Had I been more fully clothed, I might have been able to enjoy the sights more, but after a quick cup of hot chocolate at Ghiradelli Square, my cold and tired body was ready for bed. And a wonderful bed it was. I was asleep the second my head it the pillow. The next morning after a quick run and a delicious breakfast, we hit the airport again, and we were, this time, successful at securing boarding passes on our Cathay Pacific flight. Then we got to spend the next five hours people watching, and I realized just how important your airport outfit can be. This particular choice of clothing advertises to the rest of the world (literally) the type of person you are and the life you lead. It is kind of exhilarating to think you can become a different character to the people around you every time you travel. So now I end my first attempt at a blog entry, and hope that the rest of my travelling goes a little more smoothly.