The best laid plans of foreign exchange students...

Well, as you may have realized I am not flying over the Atlantic, enjoying in-flight movies and mediocre meals. Instead, I am in a hotel in Chicago eating a dinner of almonds and watching some show about life inside a Colorado prison on MSNBC. Why am I here? Well, let me tell you. I left Minneapolis this morning feeling pretty good. As you can see in the photo, I am bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to take on the world. Going through security was a breeze, my bags were under the weight limit, there was no sign of inclement weather, I felt golden. On my flight from Minneapolis to Chicago, I sat next to a really nice girl from the University of Minnesota who was on her way to an internship at an architectural firm in India. As she told me about her convoluted flight plan and long layovers, I thanked the airline gods for having given me a near-direct flight, and that I was going to a place where I (more-or-less) speak the language. As we said our goodbyes after disembarking, I strode confidently to the gate, knowing that in a few short hours I would be on a plane to a magnificent adventure. The first hint of trouble occurred when the airline announced that they had overbooked by four people, and thus needed four volunteers to delay their flight 24 hours and accept a $1,000 voucher for later travel plus hotel and meal vouchers. Little did I know how awesome that deal was. After several increasingly more desperate pleas, we were eventually told that all was well. Then the time for boarding came and went, and we were told that there was a slight delay because the plane had not yet arrived from its previous destination. Ok, I thought. That happens all the time. And I continued reading my book (The Well of Loneliness, by Radclyffe Hall, if you're wondering). Not really a great book for lifting the spirits, but that's neither here nor there. Then came an announcement that there was mechanical trouble with the plane. I felt a growing knot in my stomach, but ignored it. Nothing could ruin my high spirits. Then another announcement. This time, we were told that the problem was with the right engine, and that it was leaking. The representative said that they didn't yet know how serious the problem was, and that they would let us know in half an hour. I'm not a mechanic, but I'm pretty sure engine problems are serious. Especially is this engine is trying to keep a massive metal thing and 300 people in the air for an extended period of time. This charade went on for a few more half hours, at which point I began to worry. We were then told that at at 7:30 they would "make a decision". Then they said 7:45. Right about this time, I saw the flight crew leave with all of their baggage. Ever hopeful, I thought that maybe another airplane could be found, our flight could be re-booked, and that somehow I could arrive at the airport in Paris only a few hours late, or even in time to meet the group flight. After a few frantic phone calls to my parents, and some more anxious waiting, the verdict was announced. The flight was cancelled, and all 300 passengers would have to wait in line for 8 airline representatives to re-book their flight and receive hotel and meal vouchers. Now seriously concerned, I ran as fast as I could to one of the lines where I met some really great people, which helped keep my spirits up. While waiting in line, my wonderful parents were able to secure a place for me on another flight, though I'm now going through Dallas and London before Paris, will be arriving at a different airport, and will be about 36 hours late and miss one day of orientation. So, after lugging 150 pounds of luggage across the width of O'Hare airport, across three taxi lanes and onto a bus, here I am. At the Hyatt Regency O'Hare, not so much bright-eyed or bushy-tailed, but still determined as ever to get myself to Paris anyway possible, and to finally start the adventure of a lifetime.