And the Journey Begins... or Continues

After an outdoor church service, my parents and I ate a quick lunch of leftover chicken enchiladas (my last dinner at home that I prepared) and we headed south.  We stopped by the hospital in Everett so I could say goodbye to my grandpa who had open heart surgery last week, and then we fought Sea Fair traffic and won!  That is to say, there wasn’t much traffic…  Anyway, we got to the airport a little over four hours early, thanks to a weird relationship between Continental and United Airlines, the bag check-in experience was a bit arduous.  I tried to check my bags at Continental, with whom I purchased my plane ticket, and the screen told me it couldn’t accept checked bags more than four hours prior to the flight.  So I was going to wait a bit longer (about five minutes) and try again when I overheard someone tell another passenger that since she was technically flying United that she needed to take her bags down to the United counter and check them there.  My parents and I packed up the roughly 138 pounds of gear plus two carry-on items and hauled them down to United.  Upon trying to check my bags there, the screen told me that the flight may only allow one checked item per passenger and that I had to wait for an agent to assist me.  This caused a mini melt-down because I had paid for three bags the previous night online.  To help dissipate my fears (after I swore in front of my mother and almost burst into tears), I ferociously zip-tied my luggage while my dad checked the weight—miracle/proof God is with me #1 all of my luggage was under weight (barely)!  The agent came and miracle #2 he tagged all of my items and put them on the conveyor belt without question!  Next I bid a tearful goodbye to my folks and headed into the security check line—miracle #3 no problems and my fears of being strip-searched were for nothing!  Approaching my gate I noticed that my flight was delayed 40 minutes, which then bled into being in a holding pattern just outside San Francisco for 20 more minutes due to weather, and shortened my layover time by half.  Yay!  Oh, and as a side note, the people I sat next to on my flight I nicknamed Los Besos—‘nuf said… 

Thanks to a training in Vancouver BC last year, going through customs wasn’t quite so scary this time.  Nothing to mention for the flight from SFO to MEX other than I had difficulty sleeping.  So for now, I am going to find a quiet(er) corner in the E2 hall and try to sleep for a bit.  Thanks for all your prayers!  GIGATT!