While traveling is most always a powerful experience - my eyes open, my horizons broaden, my strength is tested to the quick - transportation is needlessly, pointlessly hellish.
This day is no exception. It started off poorly when I attempted to check in my 73 lb suitcase at Delta. First I was informed that I would be charged an additional $100 for having such a heavy piece of luggage, then minutes later it was illuminated to me that I was at the wrong airport. Just connect as many expletives in one sentence as you possibly can, and you've captured my sentiments for the next hour.
One delayed flight later, I was blasting through Atlanta, Georgia's airport, attempting to catch my connecting flight to Buenos Aires. My dear friend Jacey, whom I conjured this bizarre plan with, was holding the plane for me. We hugged like long, lost lovers, and boarded the plane. After that, I concede that it was smooth sailing. But that's what you get with a good friend, some unprescribed ambien, and a bottle of champagne. We made it Montevideo.
|  | 
|
