Home At Last

I'm sitting in my room. A place I was aching to get out of a few months ago, but now I'm extremely glad to be back. Crazy how things change.
This blog will be about my crazy time getting home, and then the next one will be continuing on about my trips I haven't written anything about. Either way, you will get the info.
The last day in Venice, we had to check out of our "hotel" at 9:30 in the morning. We didn't leave for the airport until 4pm. It was -4 outside, or at least it felt like it. I'll write about the actual day in my Italy blog. The point of that is. . . it was freezing, and we were outside for hours. We finally got all of our belongings and made our way to the airport. Our flight was at 7 something or other, but it kept getting pushed back. We finally made it out of Italy at 9:50 I believe. We landed at Gatwick and got our things, and took a bus to Heathrow and arrived a little after midnight. The sad part, because we thought we were the group that was late, is the fact that the other group still hadn't landed. We found out not much later that the other group was stuck at a different terminal. Heathrow is HUGE - you have to take shuttles to other terminals sometimes. And the shuttles weren't working at such a late hour. So spending time with Steph and Mary was out.
Time went by, and I didn't sleep at all. I got online, talked to a lot of people and just tried to spend time with my friends before I had to leave.
Finally, Steph and Mary arrived at our terminal at 6ish. We only had enough time to talk for about fifteen minutes before we had to say our goodbyes. Tears and hugs, it was a difficult thing to do. Then Elenya was next, following Mary and Steph. And I was sitting by myself. Which made me cry even more.
Finally at 7am, with no sleep for almost 24 hours, I had to go check in. My flight was at 10:05. Luckily, I decided to check in three hours early, and went with Danielle and Jeff, because when I got to the terminal (which took fifteen minutes itself, with two suitcases, a backpack, and a duffel bag. My shoulders are permanently crooked) the lady said they did not have a confirmation number for me. Because Virgin Atlantic switched me over to United when they had to change my arrival flight into the UK, they didn't provide a confirmation number. So I had to basically run to another terminal (luckily my stuff was able to stay with Danielle and Jeff) to get a confirmation number from Virgin. I was mad and in tears, mostly because I wanted to go home and also because I hadn't slept for 24 hours. At first the lady at Virgin Atlantic had no idea what I was talking about, and the fear of me having to stay in the UK longer than I should made me irritated. Finally she gave me a number, and I raced back to my own terminal, just to have to wait in line for 40 minutes. Finally they called Chicago flight to the front, and I got the same lady, and she took my confirmation code. Then... she said my seat was suspended. I wanted to cry again. But she got that figured out. (This all had taken about two hours). Oh, not to mention before I got back in line I got my stuff from Danielle and Jeff, and there was this HUGE line for another airline blocking my only way to get around so I could get in line with my numerous amount of belongings. I was tired and sweating, and I pushed my way through. Luckily, both of my suitcases were underweight, and they allowed me to take both a backpack and a duffel bag as carryons.
I then took about fifteen minutes to walk to my gate. I was so exhausted I couldn't stand it. I made it right before they started boarding, and I sat down next to Danielle and just began crying and laughing. One of those like exhausted, relief, angry, and hilarious emotions.
I boarded the plane first, and sat next to a South African ( I saw the front of his passport) and tried to sleep the entire time. I didn't. I watched an episode of The Office, and the tail ends of a few movies. I listened to music. And the biggest mistake I made was eat the food (again).
I got to O'Hare and went through all the steps, really unsure of what I was doing because this was the first time I truly flew by myself. Luckily I didn't go through any type of claims for customs. I got my baggage, and walked out. I didn't see my parents, but the first person I saw was D.J. Apparently I wasn't supposed to see him, he was supposed to surprise me, and I ended up surprising him. Then my parents came over, we hugged, and they took my bags. We got to our car later on, drove home. We stopped at Olive Garden in Kokomo, but my stomach was bothering me and I wasn't too hungry (which was a shame). Raced home, I showered and got ready, and headed to Kaylynn's wedding reception. I felt kinda sick the entire time, but not too bad.
Then the next day I was siiiiiick. Sadly it was Christmas for my Mom's side, and I think I had food poisoning. I couldn't eat anything at all, and I just felt awful all day. I had woken up at 7:30 that morning too. And then that night I went to bed at 7:30, and the next morning I woke up at 5:30.
Now I've seen some friends, I've gotten back on a normal sleep schedule (I forced myself to stay up and forced myself to sleep in to where it was normal again), I've played my Beatles Rockband, and I have gotten a haircut (with color, and both were desperately needed.)
I start at Ball State in a few weeks, with my major as English Education. I finally feel like this is what I'm supposed to do.
So really, my trip back was awful, hectic, tiring, but so great because I was coming home to my family and friends, and my BED. I even think Sami missed me a little bit.
I'm so happy to be home.
Expect another post soon.
Love,
Erynn