2006-02-06 - 11:09 a.m.

Oh wow...back in Shanghai yet again. Still big, still cold. Getting back over here compliments of China Airlines was a neverending scene straight out of any of National Lampoon's Vacation movies. I am very close to isolating the gene that somehow sucks me straight in to absolute chaos where ever I go- and when I do, I will either destroy it or sell it- I can't decide. Anyway, it started like this...
My usual remedy for airplane anxiety is to drink massive amounts of alcohol the night before (sorry mom) so that I have such a blinding hangover that I don't notice that I am in a metal box at 30,000 feet where, on the flights to China, no one speaks my language (very well anyway)...Having a pretty good hangover in effect, Mike's sister Arica dropped off at the airport. I pulled my 85 pound suitcase (seriously) into the China Airlines flight 986 line, and noticed that I was 6 hours early. The flight was delayed. I made it to the front of the line, heaved my bag onto the conveyor belt, and within seconds the lady was saying,"Too heavy- you need another bag." Then she just stared at me. I reminded her that I made the flight over from China with the exact same bag and it weighed even more then from all my Christmas presents. She smiled and pointed to a sign that said (in way too many confusing words for a hungover person to read) that as of February 2006 (the Chinese New Year), China Airlines no longer accepts overweight bags. I made my first flight before their stinkin new year. "Sorry" she said, and smiled. Sorry? "Does it look like I have another bag?" I asked her. Then she pointed to a little station a few feet away that sold boxes- for 20 bucks. "Buy a box." she said. So I lugged my bag to the very friendly box man and began to unpack. And wouldnt you know what somehow flew out of my bag? Underwear. Yes, panties. Oh how I hate that word. I was too hung over to care, so I scooped them up and stuffed them back in, only to have ANOTHER pair fall out in their place. Stupid panties. I finally got enough weight out of my suitcase and into the box to satisfy the red tap monsters at China Air. I made it back to the counter, where I was issued my boarding pass. I noticed she only gave me one, which got me as far as Beijing. "How do I get the boarding pass for Beijing to Shanghai?" "I don't know. You are not going to Shanghai. This ticket stops at Beijing." What? How could this have happened? (I know exactly how- it's called being me) At this point I had 13 bucks in my wallet. I promptly started crying, and within seconds, 5 Chinese flight agent people were just staring at me. One man said, "You travel. You prepare better." Okay, thanks Mr. Nice Man. Let me make a long story short- I called Mike and cried at him for a while, called my mom and cried at her for a bit, and attempted calling several other family members as well (they didn't answer-lucky them) and then I called Arica who came back to the airport and not only gave me enough money to buy a Beijing-Shanghai ticket (once I got to Beijing)but she also bought me lunch, all the latest magazines, and chewing gum. Then she sat with me for 2 hours, reading magazines and keeping me company until my stupid stupid airplane was ready to take off. Arica is the best. I would still be wondering around the Beijing airport if it wasn't for her. The only saving grace to my fabulous flight home was that there were only 30 people on the entire airplane and each person got to sleep stretched out on an entire row. And based on my fantastic deducing skills, I have concluded that my brainiac travel agent who issued the ticket for me never even tried to get me back to Shanghai. Apparantly this is the ticket I asked for. (NO it's not.) This is reason number 145,003 why I am determined to learn Chinese.

?lt;/P>

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