Because April and I are attending the National College Media Convention in Kentucky from tomorrow until Sunday morning, we were supposed to fly out of Columbus this afternoon and catch a flight to Louisville and arrive around 8 p.m. Supposed being the key word. When we showed up at the airport, we found out our flight had been canceled and had been pushed to tomorrow afternoon and no one had told us. And Julia, who had dropped us off, had already left, so we were stuck at the airport. So, thanks, Delta. For everything. Really.
April tried to find out if we could get a flight out of another airport, but one of the desk guys — who I am officially dubbing Mr. Grumpypants (yes, I know I sound about five) — thought she was stupid. I just don't think he understood her questions. After trying, and failing, to get another flight to Louisville today, we just decided to drive.
Which is why I spent eight hours in a car driving across four states. Well, April did the driving. Luckily, Julia was able to come get us and drop of off at April's car. We took the Nachez Trace even though we didn't have to — that was my fault by giving bad driving advice — and got to see pretty leaves while following a really slow moving silver van. I learned I should never give anyone any opinion on directions, ever and that people drive really slow.
I also have a list of popular songs like "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry and how many times they were played on the pop station of April's satellite radio (eight, for the record). I tried to take pictures of the moon with my camera, but even with the shutter speed at 4000 and the aperture at 36, all I got was a black picture.
I spent the first half of the trip staring at my computer and occasionally writing things down for an opinion article for Friday's edition of The Reflector. Like always, I'm sure everyone will love my take and write me tons of fan mail. That, or call for my immediate resignation. I finally was able to finish it in time for a really annoying smart car to pull in front of us and drive really slow. I'm pretty sure April's land rover could have taken it out.
Eventually, after a gas station stop, a late night meal at Wendy's and getting off at the wrong exit, we made it to the hotel. Just in time for a plane either land or take off every two minutes outside our window. Literally. I still don't understand how every flight to Louisville was booked. But now we're here, with a car and ready to go on another adventure after catching a couple of hours of sleep.
But the worst part of all this is the fact that I went out and bought travel sized bottles to take on the plane. And now I don't even need them.
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