Airport... FrOm HeLL!!!!!

Morning of the 8th I wake up at 8 am because my roomie had a job and I couldn't sleep. My flight is on the morning of the 9th.

Basically the entire day I spent NOT packing because of the good little procrastinator I am and it ended up being 11 pm with me sitting around all my possessions and whining that I needed more time... I think I finished at around 2 am when I get a knock on my door from the driver... I had enough time for a little moment with the roomies before I left. I might have shed a little tear :(.... Okay. I was SAD.

Driving to the airport was pretty uneventful however due to the rain and intense wind my driver had come for me at 2 am instead of the planned 3 am and I got to the airport an hour before I could check in. Boo.

So sleepy/wide awake from 8 cups of coffee Arielle sat with some Japanese tourists comparing cameras while waiting to check in. Awake hours count: 19 hours.

By the time 3:30 rolled around I was about ready to tap out for the day. I dragged my massive load of luggage over to the counter where the check-in clerk proceeds to burst into laughter followed by a "You're joking right?"

I have been living away from home since January. I ADMIT I might have picked up some things along the way. OKAY.

My main bag was only about 26/27 kilos and the maximum weight posted I think was 23... He let me slide. But my 12 kilo "purse" and my 19 kilo (maximum 7) carry-on were apparently no bueno. However the guy was nice enough to let me check it (my bag) before we got on the plane so I didn't have to pay the 150 euro overcharge. Outrageous I might add.

No sleep on the plan ride over to Amsterdam.... And I payed a ridiculous amount for my stupid Starbucks coffees.

Once I arrived in Amsterdam I was completely out of it. Awake hours Count: 26.

They also depressurized the cabin terribly so I was crying and moaning by the time we landed with my fellow 2 year olds' on board.

I stumbled out of the plane in a deaf stupor. Dragging my 30 pound purse on the ground in hopes of eating some food. Well turns out it was only 9 am and nothing was open. So I wondered aimlessly around the airport... I was thinking about going to the hotel to sleep but that plan didn't work out so I decided on the next best thing... a massage.

Which was actually delightful besides the announcement for late passengers that went off in 5 minute increments. However it was shockingly overpriced at 55 euros for 30 minutes.

Unfortunately for me, the massage didn't help me with my lack of sleep so now I've been up for 28 hours, my body feels boneless, I'm still dragging around my 30 pound duffel and I can't hear... so I walk up to the flight board and instantly see that Minneapolis is Closing their boarding time.

"F@$*"

Screaming I wrestle a cart away from some old lady (joke) and book it down to the complete opposite of the stupid airport because in these stories you are never conveniently located near your gate. I run up to the guy and the "CLOSED" light is flashing on the board... and I can barely make out the shout "YOU CAN'T BOARD". Thankfully always calm, cool, collected Arielle starts trying to argue with the man about why I can't board. Saving myself some embarrassment I'm just going to say that there happened to be two flights to Minneapolis that day and I was the later one.

So now I'm just plain upset so I decide to go eat my feelings away with some McDonald's. The restaurant I wanted to eat at wasn't open. Typical.

Fast forward to 1:15 pm I go to board my plane. Awake hours Count: 30. I'm carrying my laptop because I just have a giant purse that I shoved all my shit into and i don't like it sitting on the ground.... I enter the security gates. I get stuck with this woman who you KNOW takes her job was too seriously. I get the typical questions: did you pack your bag etc. Then I get thrown the where were your bags last night. Answering "At my house" is a WRONG ANSWER friends. Who knew...

"Well... how do you have a house? Why were you there? Why are you holding your laptop? How long were you there? How long does your visa last there? Why do you have two visas? Why are you coming home now?"

I mean this woman WOULD NOT STOP. I had to tear open all my possessions to show her proof of blah blah blah. At around her 6th trip to her supervisor to tell her how suspicious I am I get a tap on my back followed by a "Would you please step this way ma'am".

Good. God.

This is the SECOND time I have been dragged to the little white room in the back of the airport for being checked in Amsterdam.

It's. not. funny. anymore.

Hour and 45 minutes I was in this blasted room. After ranting on the main guard for 10 minutes about how I am a 120-pound, white, christian, republican from Minnesota and I think I fall into the category of least likely to do whatever then think I was going to do.... I was allowed to board my plane... And OF COURSE "I" held it up ... and the amount of glaring I got from the other passengers was uncalled for.

Plane ride: I'm just going to say this. I slept nothing the entire ride. I sat next to a man who should be a frozen statue for a living and proceeded to give me a death glare every time I even shifted a fraction of an inch. And I sat next to babies in the middle isle.

Upon yet another badly depressurized cabin I got through security without being able to hear and barley function... Awake hours count: 40. I learned that my luggage had been lost.