I strapped on my helmet and put my cell phone and credit card in the pocket of my running shorts. I swung one leg over the seat of my dad’s too-big bike and began to pedal. The weather was wonderful, warm and breezy. I navigated down my street, down another, through shortcuts to the bridge. I suddenly realized that if I was going to pick up pet food, how was I going to get it back? I had no backpack, only my arms… and I kind of needed those to hold on. I figured I’d just hang the bags from the handlebars. Maybe I should have dwelled on that problem a little more.

I biked swiftly down the streets of private neighborhoods, beating the cars because I ignored the frequent stop signs. I soon entered the public shopping district, and crossed the street into the Target/PetsMart parking lot. At those two stores I bought what I needed: chinchilla pellets, dust bath, and Twilight, by Stephenie Meyer. Errand completed, I put my two bags on the handlebars, a seemingly safe distance away from the front wheel. I got on and began to ride, awkwardly gesturing to the car behind me that I wanted to turn right. (I really need to get a hang of those hand signals.)

I was biking happily along for awhile until one of the bags got caught in the spokes. I would have been very concerned about this turn of events except, by the time I noticed, I was already on the ground. I watched the world invert itself as I flipped over the front handlebars. The whole experience was made all the more disorienting by a shower of chinchilla food from one of the ripped bags.

A nice lady stopped and asked if I needed help. Looking down at the shredded bags and the chinchilla food strewn all about, I nodded. She was a great help, and I was able to put my things in a new bag, remaining pet food and all. She also offered to put my bike in the back and drive me home. I declined, however, both because I didn’t want to inconvenience her and because I couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating. After all, I’d convinced my dad that my little excursion would be safe; wiping out in the middle of the Target parking lot might have suggested otherwise.

In any case, I waved as she drove away and got on the bike again. I put my arms through the holes of the plastic Target bag and thus fashioned a ridiculous looking backpack. (I hope I don’t end up in a video on YouTube.) The palms of my hands were scuffed up a little bit, but I otherwise escaped unharmed… thankfully. Perhaps I have flipped off the front of my bike so many times that I instinctually know how to avoid injury in such a situation. Or maybe I just have exceptionally good bone density from all that running. For whatever reason, I am very glad that I was not worse off, and that I didn’t have to accept my diploma with one arm in a cast. I suppose it was reasonable for me to get in one more life lesson before leaving high school behind.

Here’s the story of the whole ordeal. My group and I were supposed to fly from here to Washington DC and then from Washington DC to Rome. The time between our flights in Washington DC was barely over an hour (Lesson learned: 1 hour is not enough) However, due to the chaos with Southwest Airlines being sued for not inspecting their airplanes, our own airplane was late arriving because it was being inspected. [Delay: 45 mins] It finally came, we boarded, and the plane was heading out onto the tarmac to take off. Just prior to take off we are informed by the pilot that we can’t take off because a “ground stop” has been instituted at the DC airport. We don’t know why or for how long, but no planes can take off for DC until the ground stop has been lifted. We groan and wait for it to lift. [Delay: 20 mins] Finally, the ground stop is lifted, but due to the amount of flights delayed by the mysterious ground stop, our flight is at the end of a long queue. Our pilot tells us we are set to take off in 2 HOURS. I pull out the tissues cuz I am ready to cry. We will miss our flight to Rome for sure. However, there is some negotiating between our people and their people, and we get put on a priority list so we can make our flight to Rome. Yay! But hold the applause.

Relieved, we land in Washington DC about 2 hours later. As we taxi to the gate, I look at all the other planes lined up to take off. There are lots of enormous planes bound for overseas. We get to the gate, and we dash to the gate for our Rome flight. We arrive, stressed and breathless, to find the gate as barren as a desert. The flight? It’s gone. We passed it on the runway.

They were supposed to hold the flight for us (we were only 15 mins late and we were put on the priority list primarily to get there on time). However, they did not want to take 15 minutes to transfer our luggage from one plane to the other. There’s only one flight to Rome a day, so we are screwed, screwed, screwed. We must stay in Washington DC for 24 hours and then hope and pray for spots on the following day’s flight. That’s okay, I didn’t want to see the Island of Capri anyway. What’s ironic is that we missed our flight because they didn’t want to transfer our luggage and have it arrive a day late– however, when we were layed-over in DC, we didn’t have our luggage anyway. [Delay: 24 hours]

So we stayed in DC for a day. The airlines thankfully put us up somewhere and gave us meal vouchers– if they hadn’t, I’m pretty sure we would have slept on the streets. DC was okay, but it was no Italy. At last, we return to the airport. There are some spots on the next direct flight to Rome merely because a large schoolgroup missed their connection because of storms in Chicago. (sucks, but THANK YOU) However, they can’t fit us all. Half the group goes straight to Rome, and the rest have to fly to Frankfurt, Germany first. Guess what group I’m in.

So my shrinking group of companions takes off for Germany. We arrive at around 6 in the morning and chill out at the airport for 5 hours until the flight to Rome. After a few gate changes, we arrive to the right gate only to find that our entire group of 12 people is on standby for what might be an entirely booked flight because United didn’t book it properly. We spend 20 agonizing minutes watching others board, wondering if we’re going to be stranded in Germany for another day. (This is where a stress ball would have come in handy.) At long, drawn-out last, we are allowed to board the plane. One of my friends didn’t even have a seat, and had to sit next to the flight attendant. But 20 minutes later, we were in the air and on our way.

[ TOTAL DELAY: 32 HOURS ]
Thus ended that part of my personal Odyssey. Unfortunately, just about the same thing happened on the way back to the U.S., but our time in Italy was worth it.

Super Tuesday will be very significant, as 24 states count off their support for the various candidates. Missouri, as a bellwether state, will play a large role. Since 1904, Missouri election results have predicted the national winner with 96% accuracy. This is most likely because Missouri mirrors the demographic, economic, and political makeup of the nation. Here are my predictions for how Missouri will swing this time around:

In the Democratic contest, Barack Obama faces off against Hillary Clinton. Both tout very similar records, promising to improve health care, education and the economy. Much of the differences between the two candidates come down to personal preference, making this election is tough to call. I think that many will vote in favor of Clinton’s experience. Clinton has some serious clout in Washington and knows how to work the system. She has made a few mistakes over the years, but she has learned from them. While Obama’s plans sometimes seem too idealistic, Clinton is firmly grounded in economic reality. Some consider her cold and domineering, but hey– if she had to claw her way to where she is now, I don’t begrudge her that. She has come further than any other woman, and she’s tough as nails. Our country would be safe in her hands.

However, Barack Obama has a draw as well– I witnessed that firsthand last Saturday, when I attended a rally for Barack Obama in St. Louis. I crowded into an arena with 20,000 others and stood waiting for two hours just to hear the man speak. Looking around at the masses gathered, I wondered how Barack Obama could draw bigger crowds than a Hannah Montana concert. Now I know. He brings people together. He gives them hope. Young people in particular have flocked to Obama’s rally call of change– if they vote in significant numbers (historically, they have not) they could tip the scales in Obama’s favor. Senator Claire McCaskill’s endorsement also could give Obama a considerable edge. But who will vote? Despite dismal turnout for recent elections, will young people take a stand this time around? And just how much does experience matter?

I don’t think the timing could have been any better. I had a lot of homework due on Friday, but because of the Snow Day, I have alll weekend to do it! (If at all.) We got about six inches– perfect.

The pristine snow outside made me feel semi-obligated to clean my house. I decided to take advantage of this feeling because it doesn’t come often. Thus, I attacked the dining room. My mom likes keeping magazines and papers in here until she “has time to read them.” Well, needless to say, she is a very busy woman, because much of this stuff has been around for years.

I wonder if Wal-Mart still honors coupons from 1992. I might try it.

I’m glad this video predates my birth.

EDIT: I’d like to mention that today, just 1-2 days after the original 8-inch snowfall, it is 75 degrees. There is barely any snow to be seen.
Welcome to St. Louis. Be warned: the weather has ADD.

Tomorrow they are taking down the bridge that connects my street to the other side of the highway. The lane I live on is officially going to be little more than an isolated cul-de-sac, a dead-end street. It’s a little depressing.

Below, some pictures I took before and during the demolition:

But there’s an upshot to the construction. Yesterday my friends and I went running… down the highway. It was incredible. Instead of getting honked at by passerby in cars, we got honked at by men in CATs. We ran on the shoulder, changed lanes improperly, and vaulted ourselves over the median and across all 6 lanes of (non-existent) traffic. I’m surprised we didn’t get a ticket.

To change the subject to something completely unrelated… Facebook apps are getting completely out of hand. Okay, I understand Honesty Box and Hot-or-Not, sure. But now I get invited to add apps with names like HoboWars (?), “What kind of eyes do you have?” (Uh- ones that see.), “What kind of drug are you?”, “Gingerbread House”, “Zombies”, “Pirates”, and “Oregon Trail.” I just don’t understand. Forgive me for not wanting to die of imaginary dysentery or convert my friends into e-Vampires– sounds thrilling, really.

The story is about an atheistic dungeon delver, a virtual reality programmer, a conformist linguist, and a duke. It starts in an intergalactic nation. The story begins with someone doing laundry and ends with a failure.
Of course. Doing laundry is such a classic literary catalyst.

The story is about an acrobatic coach who is in love with a baseball player. It starts on a forest planet. The fall of the Soviet Union plays a major part in the story.
I didn’t know they had discovered forest planets back in the 80s. My bad.

This is a killer-on-the-loose with an undercurrent about empowerment and the danger of traditional values. The story is about a biased stockbroker who is in love with an unathletic merchant. It starts in a village in North America. The story ends with someone visiting a doctor.
I wonder who the killer is? Traditional values?

The story is about a nun who is mysteriously connected to a detective. The story begins with an apocalyptic event, climaxes with a birthday preparation, and ends with a slip of the tongue.
Seems sort of anti-climactic, doesn’t it?

If you try it out and get any good ones, feel free to comment