Well, I made it home yesterday on a pretty uneventful flight. I had the best cabbie I'd had, though, to get to Midway. He came on time, didn't try to take me for a ride (I've had cabbies try to take me practically up to the Loop to get between Midway and the U of C), and didn't talk on his cell phone for the whole ride (just half of it). However, at traffic lights, he wold reach over and punch the passenger seat a couple of times. I don't know.

I got to the airport and made a friend with the guy at the Airtran check in. He worked at a printing press at the Enrico Fermi Institute in high school and went to college in Dubuque. He also knew my name was Irish, and I have a soft spot for people who recognise my name. Anyway, he gave me an emergency exit aisle seat, which was cool.

I got singled out for security screening though. I was really happy they didn't go through my suitcases since they were filled with dirty clothes and it would have been embarassing. Still I had to take off my shoes and display my mismatched socks and get groped by the TSA woman (actual quote, "Oh, that's your bra setting it off"). She was very confused by the metal pin in my elbow, too. The guy went through my purse while I couldn't watch him, which seemed a bit sketchy. Couldn't I accuse them of stealing something? You'd think they'd want me to be there. Still, they were perfectly nice. I just hate airports now. Everyone seems on edge, and periodically over the loudspeaker, we'll hear what level of terrorism alert we're at. The soldiers are gone, but there're cops and federal security guys everywhere. Midway doesn't feel like a glorified bus station anymore, and Hartsfield is worse. I don't think flying will ever be very fun for me again.

The plane was overbooked and they were offering two free roundtrips and lunch to anyone who would rebook on a later flight. They could only put me on the flight that left Midway at 9:00 pm, though, and I couldn't get in touch with my mother who was picking me up at the airport. So no free trips for me.

On the flight, I was sitting next to a Baptist pastor and his daughter (you know this story can't end well, right?). Actually, they were nice, but the man asked me if I was a Christian and had accepted Jesus Christ as my own personal saviour. I figured God would understand if I fibbed a little, so I said yes, no qualification. Maybe I believe in Christ, anyway, and if not, you know, it was going to be a LONG flight with the pastor proselytising the whole damn way. Anyway, I got invited to his church in Mississippi, and his daughter gave me information about her church in Chicago {she seemed surprised I'd never heard of it-- they were active on the south side, apparently) and her cell phone number if I ever wanted to come with her. She even had a car and could pick me up.

Anyway, despite all this, I made it home, slept for nine hours and watched about six hours of TV. A fine evening, all in all.