Still waiting...(or perhaps more accurately, my day as a homeless person)

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Side note, I had several events occur over the past several days that deservered a blog, however I found myself with no access to the internet. I plan to catch everyone up. I kept notes of things as they were happening, and I plan to post them chronologically. For story telling (I kept rushing trying to type story telling and typed "stelling" 3 times before I got it right) effect, I'm going to write as if I didn't know the outcomes of certain events and post some fake dates and times. If anyone considers this illegitimate, my apologies. Thanks for reading.
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8:00 am: I arrived at Denver International Airport. My flight wasn't until 12:45, but I decided it wouldn't hurt to get there early. So, I called home, talked to my mom, dad, and both sisters, Brittany and Mary. I also got to talk to my lady friend Kassie, who is studying Spanish in Chihuahua, Mexico. I was a little depressed about leaving Ravencrest. I just had a wonderful time there. I got to worship with a few young men (and ladies) that I care deeply about. I had some good conversations with a very good friend and mentor of mine, and I was blessed to hear some amazing men of God teach the Bible. You see, the teachers of Ravencrest resemble Christ in there teachings in ways that few others do. They are brilliant and well studied, but when it comes down to it, they communicate the Bible in very simple terms. They are story tellers. Now, this doesn't mean they don't study the ancient texts with fervor to find truth. They put in the hard, at times cold, academic work of study. But they teach with heart and caring. Top these blessings off with the location. Colorado is simply a beautiful display of God's creative work.

So I I was sad to leave. Talking to those I care deeply was quite comforting. After talking with them, I got a Dominoes Pizza (it sounded good at the time), and prepared to go through security.

10:30 am: Going through security was fairly uneventful. No hold ups. No strip search. I walked up to my gate and prepared to wait. I ended up sitting across from an extremely obnoxious young man. I couldn't help overhearing a conversation in which he trying to impress the young lady sitting next to him. He was a senior in college and told stories about taking Calculus II after going 3 years with no math. The advisors told him it was a bad idea; no one could pass in those conditions. He got an "A." "But calculus is really easy for me," he explained to the lady's impressed and shocked face. He then talked about how he new so much French going into college that they didn't have placement tests high enough for him. He ended up only having to take 1 advanced class and they gave him a French minor. He went on to describe his love of literature, music, science, politics, traveling, himself, cultures, and the young lady's asian pajamas she had on. I swallowed down the sour stuff in my mouth and walked to other side of the gate.

11:45 am: I was starting to grow concerned as I realized that the flight before mine had not yet boarded. It seemed likely that if the plane occupying my gate was an hour and a half behind schedule, it didn't bode well for my flight. Sure enough, they changed my flight time on the screen to 2:15. Weather problems in both Denver and Chicago (where I changed planes) were to blame. My connecting flight in Chicago was at 6:45. I called my mommy concerned about the tightness. She called American Airlines, who told me I should be fine, but if I missed my flight, there was a later direct flight to London they could get me on. No worries.

1:12 pm: Flight delayed to 3:45. I would definitely miss the connecting flight in Chicago. I started trying to get booked on the later direct flight out of chicago, with no help from a perticularly rude ticket agent. She informed me that I delt with a delay like this once a year. This was every day of her life. I could deal with it. I smiled and walked away to go find someone more helpful, when she called out, "Flight 1910 to chicago has been canceled. You may go back to the front desk to make other arrangements." Me and a few hundred others so it turned out. In the time it took me to move about 9 yards in the snake-like line, Mom found out that the soonest I could leave for London was the next morning at 8:15 am. A night in Denver was coming my way. (I love that lady). We communicated over the phone for the next hour as we made the arrangements and informed the university I was going to that I would be a day late.

3:45 pm: We realized that it would be prudent to start working on a hotel room. It turned out that everyone else had figured this out earlier. No rooms available, anywhere. So walked around the airport, had some dinner, got out my computer and e-mailed some people, and finally went downstairs to the security check-point. Now since my flight didn't leave until the next morning, I couldn't check my bags until then. Since I still had my bags, I couldn't go through security to my gate. So I setteled by a wall about fifty yards from security. I watched Little Miss Sunshine on my mac. It's a delightful movie. Despite some strong language, it captures some beautiful moments depicting the human condition and the need for approval and self worth. It is a little guilty of wearing its existential influences on its cinematic sleeves by having potentially the primary voice of the story's theme be an obsessive Nietzche follower. Ironically, this voice doesn't speak for at least three fourths of the movie. The movie contains moving moments of crushing dissappointment, faithful devotion to family, dealing with the reality of death, the comfort of those close at heart, and ultimately, joyous celebration of who we are. It left me feeling good about sleeping in an airport. I cuddled up on top of my suitcases, strapped my backpack to the front of me, and wrapped my arms around my guitar, which was as you may recall, cracked three days earlier. Time for bed.