Saturday, June 2, 2012

365 Days Of Love. Day 97


I hate being obviously confused or lost. Even when I venture into a new place, solo, I try to act like I know exactly what I’m doing or where I’m going. Last night, after a day of teary goodbyes, an hour drive to the airport, two flights (separated by a two hour layover), I arrived at the Denver airport and proceeded to look entirely lost. Twice.

First, I walked to the wrong baggage claim carousel. Our flight attendant twice mentioned that we could pick up our bags at carousel 7, but when the last bag at number 7 spat out, I was standing bagless. When I approached a man about the potential of lost luggage, looked at me and said,

“Hunny, the American carousel on the other end of the terminal. “

Damn.

I trekked over to the correct carousel, claimed my bag, and followed signs for the car rental venue. I dug through my purse to find my printed car rental confirmation e-mail. When I retrieved it, I noticed the car rental company’s name was nowhere to be found. Initially, I didn’t think it would be a problem. I assumed that if I went to the wrong company, they could direct me to the right one. Wrong. At the Denver airport, you have to take busses to the car rental headquarters. If you take the wrong bus, you’ll end up far away from people who can help you attain your car. Ugh. Lost and looking idiotically around. Again.

I searched my inbox for any indicators as to what company I rented my car from. I called my mom, who was sleeping (it was 1 am), I called my friend who lived in Denver, he was sleeping too. Lastly, I called my friend who works until 2 in the morning and has mad computer skills. He, of course, figured out my dilemma and nearly two hours after I landed in Denver, I had my rental car’s key in my hands and was navigating new highways in hopes of arriving at my cousin’s place without 1) getting lost and 2) getting in a crash.

My iphone successfully directed me to Arvada where my cousin, Jeremy, and his wife, Rachel, live. When I arrived, Rachel was waiting up for me, welcomed me into their new home, and showed me to my room for the weekend. When I fell into my bed shortly after arriving, I felt so cared for. I really do have such wonderful, open, people in my life, friends who hack my e-mail to help me figure out something I should have already know and family who welcome me graciously into their new home.

I’m profoundly grateful for the love afforded me, I feel very lucky. Love that negates any feelings of foolishness I feel when I’m lost. 

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