Everything’s Bigger in Texas
Travel is never boring with me. Aside from my spectacular directional ineptitude and my never-ending zeal for Road Kill Bingo, I am also Queen of the Near Miss. For the wedding I attended a few weeks ago in northern Indiana, I took the South Shore Metra line from 57th Street all the way to the South Bend Airport. I arrived at the 57th Street station sweaty and frantic, sprinting up the stairs to the platform, hollering for the conductor to open the doors for me. Fortunately, he did; missing the 8 am train would have meant a two-hour wait till the next one. The trip back to Chicago was an even nearer miss: I pulled my rental car into the nearest parking space, sprinted to the airport, literally tossed the keys to the guy at the Enterprise Rent-a-Car desk, and arrived at the train in enough time to bang on the conductor’s window so he could STOP THE TRAIN FOR ME, PLEASE. To say I made it by the skin of my nose would be a gross exaggeration. It took me ten minutes to recover my breath afterwards.
I spent much of yesterday being anxious about how and when I was going to get to O’Hare this morning. The last time I went there (to visit a friend who had a layover), it took three hours; even though that was a weekend afternoon, I just wasn’t feeling especially optimistic about my journey there this morning. I called a cab company around 11 pm to reserve a cab for 3 am, went to bed–fully dressed and already packed–about 12:30 am, and set my alarm for 2:20 am. I figured this gave me enough time to wash my face, throw my toiletries into my suitcase, eat some cereal, and call to confirm the cab.
My alarm didn’t go off. This is not exactly a rare occurrence for me: aside from sleeping like a teenager, I also quickly acclimate to my alarm clocks’ buzzes and beeps, and I am impressively adept at walking across the room, shutting off the alarm, and going back to bed–all without waking up. But this morning I’m certain it really didn’t go off; with all my anxieties about getting to the airport, I feel sure I would have overcome my inner sleepy teenager and managed to roll out of bed. I shot straight up in bed–I really did, it was like a movie–at 3 am. I looked at my phone (which I had placed right by my head), which showed three missed phone calls from “Chicago Taxi.” Shit. They called again while I was brushing my teeth and told me the cab was waiting for me outside. SHIT. I must have had the nicest cabbie in all of Chicago; I don’t know why else he would have waited while the cab company kept calling and calling me. That was some kinda luck.
My transportation luck didn’t completely change, though: half a block from my house, I had to tell my nice cabbie to turn around because I’d forgotten my boarding pass (meter still running, of course). But I finally made it; I had the cabbie take me to the Jackson Blue Line, which I then took to O’Hare. I arrived at O’Hare at about 4:20 am, PLENTY of time to get through security for my 6:55 am flight.
As soon as more people for the flight arrived, it was clear that it was going to Texas by all the silicone. Seriously, if we had landed in water, the whole plane could have floated. Everything really is bigger in Texas. And nevermind the brassy bleach blonde hair, the caked-on makeup, and the “Western” skirts with big belts and denim shirts. Ah, home!
As much as I poke fun at Texans (Dallasites, at least), I love this place. It’s a beautiful 90 degrees and the sky is bright blue. I have just eaten more queso and Bluebell ice cream than should be physically possible. And I think I’m going to have another scoop before bed.
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current book: I’m 70 pages into Blood Meridian. I think I’m finally getting used to the writing. While I’m actually reading it, it’s absorbing, but I think that I could just as easily put it down and forget about it. What a strange reading experience this is.
current music: Austin City Limits, baby! Starts tomorrow around noon.
current socks: white with little cowgirls and cowboys.
Posted 14 September 2006
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Glad you made it to Austin in one piece! It would’ve been a travesty if you’d missed seeing all those awesome bands. Enjoy your slice of paradise this weekend and I look forward to seeing more close-ups of Joey Burns. . . .