So, I’m still in Toronto. You would be right if you were thinking that about this time, I was supposed to be landing in Panama City, Panama. (Not Panama City, Florida. You would not believe how many people asked me this today. Like, THREE.)

So, the plan was to take a 2:05pm flight that connected via Newark, New Jersey with a 4:49pm flight to Panama City. Easy breezy, but 10pm I would be hugging Court in the airport. In my head, I dropped my suitcases and he picked me up and there were tears. Well, I was right about the tears. And I was right about the fact that they were mine. But I had the location and timing way off.

I was waiting by the gate, expecting to board, when a little yellow icon popped up on the board. Turns out, my flight was delayed an hour. Um, that would mean I’d miss my connection. I mentionned this to the nice agents at the counter. Now, mind you, it was some effort even to get to this counter, seeing as how on all of the boards they had posted a different gate and I only found my way here because I was eavesdropping on another conversation. What can I say? I like to listen.

I was told that they could re-book me. For tomorrow. I was like, Are you serious? There’s no other flights? And was then told that everyone else had been re-booked on an Air Canada flight. I’m not sure exactly why I was left out of this little re-scheduling. Was I too tall? Not friendly enough? I have no idea. I was like, Look, I need to get to Panama today. And by the time that little sentence cleared my mouth, I was sobbing. You know, the whole ugly cry. I was just so terribly, incredibly frustrated and disappointed. His fingers started clicking, the speed motivated clearly by injustice, but, there was nothing that could be done. The storm in Newark was a real bummer. They couldn’t route me anywhere else. The best they could do was book me for a 6:00am flight tomorrow.

“But I don’t have anywhere to stay tonight…I don’t even live in Toronto.”

See, I didn’t really know that I was planning on lying until it was out of my mouth. I think I thought perhaps they’d magically whip up another solution that would involve a private plane and an arrival date on Saturday. She asked me where I lived and I blurted out Windsor, knowing that they must have my home address on the screen in front of them. I mean, I bought the ticket myself. There could be no hiding. I looked at her, trying to look too scary to contradict.

“I’m going to see my fiance and I haven’t seen him for six months.”

Okay, once I get going it’s really hard for me to stop. And I mean, I was really sad. And it FEELS like it’s been six months.

It didn’t get me onto an earlier filghts, but, it did get me three meal vouchers and a hotel. So, here I am, at the Sheraton at the airport, using the free Internet while I tire myself out before I get on a plane (fingers crossed) tomorrow. I’m not really sure what to do about the morning. Continental still has my bags and I’m flying American…the main thing being figuring out how to get myself a free breakfast before I go. Because damned straight, I made the Sheraton give me all my vouchers in one AND a free toothbrush.

In the end though, it didn’t work out badly at all. I managed to get my hair cut, after all, and my Mom made a delicious dinner for my Aunt and Uncle and my cousin and her friend came over for a private concert. It was actuall quite lovely. Court will be thrilled to know I’ve picked out our wedding song.