Sky High

Being a teenager is all about those crazy stories that you have to hear to believe. It's another one of everyone's favorite blog posts, more airplane travelling stories from yours truly. Read up on my hilarious prior airport experiences with the Jet Set - Airborne - Up, Up & Away and get ready for more airline mishaps and truly teenage moments. Now boarding for your one way ticket to mile high club chaos. This is the true story a single teenager, picked to live in an airport, and have his life blogged and find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting real, the real world, airport terminal. We're going sky high.

Friday morning was just out of control from the get go. If I could do a confessional I'd most deff have a shat ton to say. It all starts at 6:30am when Krabby Patty has to get up and register for classes. Soon everyone, as in Cullen, Jandro, and Sam are all in our room trying to add some extra classes. You know the system is overloading like Lindsay Lohan on crack cocaine, and so it's going super slow. The angry raging that went on in our room was like legendary. Straight punches thrown, telling the University of Vermont to straight "Suck My Dick!" and yelling into my pillows was how Jandro dealt with the frustration. It was literally a fight to get those classes, it's such a cruel thing. Get us all riled up and then send us home for a week, such a mess. After that ordeal was over, I broke my fashion rule and wore sweatpants. It was just after 7am, and most of us from the floor to the Marché for breakfast. I will admit I looked straight hood, gray sweatpants, matching sweatshirt, and a black military jacket on top, hood flipped up. Jandro was wearing my sweatpants and it some ghetto ass scrambled eggs, some not so "homestyle" country fries, a warm orange slip, a crumbly muffin, and a Snapple drink to wash it all down. Hannah, Shan-Dawg, Abby, Sammy all got their bagels and went at it. It was back into the freezing cold to the Heights to get ready for the longest day ever. Krabby Patty is back in bed, boxer-briefs only (as always), sleeping, so I Assassin's Creed sneak in there and change and clean up the room a bit. I planned on reading the selection for class but just ended up passing out on my bed like a planking prepster. I woke up, wiped the sleep from my dark brown pools of eye-gasm, also known as eyes for those of you who don't speak seductive boy-toy (JK kiddies) and was off to biology lecture. There was literally no one there and it made it super awkward when the professor tried to get new people to speak. Like sorry sir, but I'm only in class to take notes, tweets, make faces at people I don't know but already don't like, and look good, chill. Might have  been the longest class ever. It was off to HCOL where we were finishing up our talk about history and the purpose. Really, it's not that great, most historical accounts are false as eff, and leave out what really happened. And whenever people bring up slavery and instantaneously look at me, I get offended, that's a major assumption and BTW's no one I'm related was ever a slave - I'm African-American, not black, there's a difference. At the end of class we get our 8-page essay drafts back, and I literally hold my breath and see I got a B+ - thank goodness. I literally light dash like Sonic the Hedgehog on chaos crystals back to my room upstairs and it's time for goodbyes. Krabby Patty and I have our heartfelt bromance movement, and Jandro and I even acknowledge our love-hate relationship. I can truly say I love those guys. It's not a proper goodbye without a ball tap and some tripping the large suitcase tricks from Jandro. It's outside to meet up with my Cincinnati friend, Lauren T. (LT in my book) so we can catch our taxi. We walk around the building shivering trying to find our "Green Cab" with no avail. Eventually the dude pulls up in an impossible to miss emerald green eco-friendly (totally VT) car and we're off to the airport. I check my bag, 45.0 lbs and cutting it close and it's off to securitty. I'm pretty much giving these TSA agents a strip tease, my jacket comes off, my sweater, the shoes, and I have to remove my laptop. When the belt comes off my slim jeans aren't so slim anymore and I'm pulling a New Yorker and BB Saggin'. Looking a mess, I make it through the scanner with no problem and retrieve my stuff, along with my teenage dignity. LT and I grab a couple of seats in the terminal waiting area, which happens to be one big room, and recount our college experiences so far at UVM. One flight leaves and we take the opportunity to move closer to our departure gate. It's about to get sky high up in here.

So we're sitting there eavesdropping on random people's weird conversations and soon we start seeing people we know. We're right by the security check point and guess who comes strutting through ... you got it right if you answered Mystery Model. The dude always has that serious-pouty look on his face every time I see him. We make awkward eye contact and I smile and wave as always, through the glass. He was reclaiming his thoroughly searched bags, he probably had too much hair product. Afterwards this hipster dude I always see whenever I'm eating with his Waldo glasses and shawl sweater goes through the place too. I even see Em-Spica's preptastic blond dorm neighbor dude too. It's all probably because we're in the smallest airport known to man. All around us people are just out of control. This dude's dog was barking up a storm from his little container thing and we saw him jiggle the thing. This lady carried her massively obese cat through security and stuffed it, yeah it I can't tell animal genders, into a small kitty kennel contraption. Our flight to connect in Chicago is supposed to leave at 2:34pm, and by this time it's almost boarding time. We get an announcement that the wind is "gusting" in Chi-Town and so our flight is delayed until 5pm. That's not okay, my flight from the Windy City to the Nasty-Nati boards at 4:30pm, epic fail. At this point, I had no idea what to do. I've never had that happen to me. Luckily LT knew her stuff, so we go up to the United Airlines agents (apparently, they're not operatives) and get us back up tickets. I notice my acquaintance from the first few days of college, Christopher James S. is like two seats from us passed out listening to music. People just keep on coming. Apparently the Middlebury ski team is with us and they're loud talkers, that bunch, let me tell you. This lady has on this odd shirt and it's for her to breastfeed through and that's was she does. Just in the airport terminal, like it's NBD, and texting in the other hand. Y'all know I volunteered in a maternity ward for 2 years and saw more than my fair share of lady parts and bobgangas, but it's still awkward, most women go to the bathroom for that, whatevs. I was almost okay without until I noticed her kid has teeth, it's called weening, do it before you baby bites your titty off. Yeah I went there. Finally we board our first flight from Burlington to Chicago and the plane literally smells of mountain ice body spray, urine and hot wings. Ski dude is diagonally behind me talking up a storm in his gnarly voice knowing on those chicken wings mocking my hunger. At this point, I'd only eaten that breakfast and a whole bag of Black Forest gummy bears. I've got a problem and I knock out to the sounds of One Direction "Up All Night" playing from my trusty IPod. The sun sets and we were already sky high.


We're about to land in Chicago when I wake up from my slumber literally scared out of my mind, and see tons of perfectly rowed lights. Turbulence and sudden drops are not okay with me, I'm valuable, if I die - my parents will come after you. I deplane and it's like culture shock for a moment for a chaotic scene of people running, kids screaming, and too many smartphones and IPads to even phathom. I was so hungry, and needed food, but I didn't even know which gate my next flight would leave from. I asked the lady at the desk and she pointed me in the right direction. I hopped on a terminal shuttle where we zoomed across the tarmac like Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas 5 Star police evastion style. The adults on the bus were talking about getting sick nasty wasted on their flights and stoppped when they realize me, a "kid" was present. Oh please, we're such teenagers (tag line input). I get to my terminal and claim a seat. It's just past 7pm, (remember the 1 hour time change - did y'all know Chicago was in Illinois, not Indiana ... you don't say), and if I don't big boy pee-pee I'mma bout to explode. I make it to the bathroom where they have these motorized seat cover toilet seat thingies and I couldn't help but utilize it, especially after I missed a little (Daddy Day Care moment). I washed my hands thoroughly and saw some dude brushing his teeth hardcore, another man shaving and third dude taking a hit from his flask. So this is the hometown of mancrush Bill Rancic, the midwest mecca. The nearest food place is Starbucks so I head over to the little hut and order a cranberry bliss bar, and a shaken passion iced tea. Finally some sustenance and brand name food, sorry VT the whole local stuff may not be cutting it with this suburbian boy. I take a seat and this is sitting across from me feeling his teeth. What the hell is going on here. I try to trade in my back up ticket for a boarding pass and am told to wait so I go back to 1Direction jamming. This bball player looking black guy sits next to me and keeps looking at me, suspiciiously. He opens this box with like Japanese, Taiwanese, Chinese, Ottawannabeanese (ignorance) symbols on it. I'm pretty the man was a spy. It's almost 9:10pm and time for my new flight to board. No such luck, I get my boarding pass and get told that the pilot and crew haven't arrived yet so we're delayed until midnight. Eff my freaking life, I'm tired, hungry, and not looking as good as I did in the morning. One Direction helps me pass the time and finally we get on our flight. It's only 45 minutes to Cincinnati, and I get put in one of those awkward front seats right behind first class. I zone out and wake up when we land. I powerwalk to the baggage claim where I see my daddy waiting for me. He smiles big (for once) and we embrace longer than ever before, perfect father-son moments. I get my suitcase and it's into Benz #3 to be driven home. Thank you father for understanding my need for luxury in everything. I missed the smell of leather, and expensive things. We make it home to the Manor (what I call my house) and it's up to my room for first time since the last week of August. My goodness how I missed my home life. I check in on my sister and lifelong best friend, Bianca, and she's still up. I give her a big ole hug and it's beddy bye time. I just went sky high and turned a 4 hour trip into a 13 hour one.

Being a teenager is all about being able to laugh at the mishaps in your life. I'm telling you my life might truly be a major joke. Too many things happen to me and I'm perfectly fine with it. It just adds to the craziness that is my teenage life. You have to learn to embrace it, and use it to your advantage. Dwelling on the absurdity will get you nowhere. Chill out, look back at the catastrophe, and live a little. Step out of your life for once and go sky high.


My blog post question for the day is ... do you have any stupid travelling incident stories? I've got too many to share, but I'd love to hear yours. The more comments the better.
Creeping on Mystery Model, in the glass behind the metal thingy


  1. Hey you, hope you take the time to read this:
    In case you don't have the time (time is money, honey), here are two quotes I wanted to share:
    1) "Almost a decade into the new century, it's a disgrace that women are still made to feel uncomfortable while using their breasts to nourish their babies. Breastfeeding is neither primitive nor obscene; it is an act of love and generosity, a forward-thinking deposit into society's depleted bank account."
    2) "to put it...bluntly: is female nakedness culturally acceptable only when it is aimed exclusively at the arousal and satisfaction of men?"
    Its backhanded comments such as that perpetuate the common stigma against breastfeeding mothers. Its really something that in our culture its more acceptable to fail at breastfeeding than to continue on with it even a little past the recommended period of time. Maybe that article will help you feel a little more comfortable with this natural part of human life.
    Hope I've cleared up all that is PC :)


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