This is the story of what I did on the weekend of New Year's Eve.
The plan was fairly straightforward. I was scheduled to fly back to L.A. from Seattle on the morning of the 30th; I would arrive at 9 a.m. and meet my friend Manoela at 3 p.m. to drive to Vegas with her friends, all of whom were Brazilian and none of whom I'd met before. In between the airport and the road trip, I would go home to my apartment, drop off all my extraneous luggage, take a nap, pack a weekend bag, and show up to meet this new group of people fresh-faced and well-rested with a bottle of champagne in hand.
The weather gods had other plans for me.
Thanks to a thick layer of marine fog, all flights coming into and out of LAX were delayed. Including mine. Especially mine. I sat at the terminal and watched as one by one, all the other flights to Los Angeles boarded. Some were late by 15 minutes, others by as much as two hours, but my flight received the star treatment: indefinite delay. Yesssss. Every time I checked the airport monitors for my flight status, it had been pushed back by another hour. When my scheduled departure was moved yet again from 1 p.m. to 2, I gave up all hope on road tripping with the Brazilians.
I called Manu and told her that I wouldn't be able to make it. Not to Vegas - I was going there no matter what - but to the 3 p.m. meeting for our drive. I couldn't expect these people that I didn't even know to wait around for me, so I told her I'd find my own way there. Since I wasn't able to get a flight from Seattle to Vegas, I booked one from LAX to LAS for later that evening and crossed my fingers that I'd make the connection.
The gate agent had warned us that as soon as our plane was cleared to depart, we would take off even if it was far in advance of the scheduled delay. In other words, leaving the airport to go do something fun was not an option. We were advised to not even leave the gate area in order to hear the announcements. So I took out my phone charger, tethered myself to the wall, played Angry Birds, and waited. And waited. And waited.
I had never spent so much time in an airport before, and I've actually slept overnight in one!
And then something embarrassing happened. I was in the airport for so long that I started to nod off. I missed all of the announcements, including the one that I had been waiting all day to hear. If not for the gate agent specifically calling my name, I would have slept through the boarding process and missed my flight entirely, and if that had happened, I'd probably be writing this from inside a padded cell right now.
Fortunately, it didn't, and I finally arrived in Los Angeles at 6 in the evening.
Unfortunately, my flight to LAX was so delayed that I missed my flight to Vegas, and had to hang out at the airport (oh, goody!) for another couple of hours trying to get a seat on the next plane. Finally got one but of course, that flight was also delayed. Yay, more airport time! It's pretty much a miracle that it was still the 30th when my plane touched down at McCarran. By then, I had spent a total of 17 hours in transit. 17 hours!
But wait, it gets better. Remember that extraneous luggage I wanted to drop off? Let me paint a picture of just how much extra stuff I had. I came to Seattle with one carry-on suitcase and one backpack. I left with the same carry-on and backpack, five pairs of shoes, sweaters and jeans from my mom, tops and dresses from my sister, a new coat, make-up and skin care products, handkerchiefs (no, seriously), new underwear (there was a sale and I need something to wear when I'm writing), winter accessories even though I live in L.A., dental products because my sister works as a hygienist, a microdermabrasion machine... oh, did we forget that Christmas comes right before New Year's?
My family was so generous this holiday season that I needed an extra suitcase to put all my new toys in. Luckily, my parents had one they weren't using, so they gave it to me. It was the size of a house, had only two wheels and a handle that didn't extend, and weighed about 50 pounds after it was packed. No words exist that can possibly describe the sheer awesomeness of having to drag that thing around Vegas because, yes, there were two room changes involved that weekend.
What kind of moron goes to Las Vegas for a weekend getaway with two suitcases containing all their Christmas presents and five pairs of shoes? Me.
Now, having said all that, I had an amazing time in Sin City when I finally got there. I reunited with a friend who lives in the UK that I hadn't seen in over a year, won $100 at roulette, and even learned a little Portuguese. What do you know, the Brazilians turned out to be pretty cool people.
We celebrated the arrival of 2012 on the Strip with champagne and fireworks. There were signs at the hotel entrance warning us not to bring bottles out onto the street, but we decided to be rebellious and snuck two bottles out anyway. We giggled at our cleverness and reveled in the fact that we were the only people who would be having champagne at midnight. When the clock struck 12, hundreds of champagne bottles all over the Strip were uncorked and I was sprayed with bubbly rain from every direction. So much for being sneaky! But it was the best tasting rain ever, and the fireworks were beautiful.
I probably logged in about six hours of sleep over the course of three days, but it was totally worth it.
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