Before I get too far into this, I have to apologize. I fully intended to keep this blog updated daily about my adventures, however I rarely found myself in the mindset to write. This trip doubled as my vacation and apparently my mind checked out as well, stifling my need for an outlet--as well as my ability to string together any coherent posts.
I'll start from the beginning. Last Wednesday, the 16th of June, after waiting for the funds to be available for the trip, I was on my way to Salt Lake City for my much anticipated flight. While I was making the journey, my mind was busy doing its usual second guessing and worst-case scenario conjuring. This did little to suppress my excitement at the prospect of getting out of Utah and away from the daily grind, but the seed of doubt that had been laying dormant sprouted and began to grow. By the time I arrived at my Grandparent's home where I parked my Jeep for the week, I felt a definite doubt about this whole adventure. I doubted my desire to even go on this trip. I doubted my ability to be away from my family and friends for 7 days, let alone indefinitely once I move later in the year. Every possible scenario of disappointment and carefully laid plans gone awry was playing on endless repeat in my adrenaline soaked brain. I live with this sort of self-doubt every day but in this completely new and unknown situation it was impossible to brush aside or ignore. My grandparents weren't much help either. Even as they drove me to the airport my mother's parents couldn't help but relay stories they had heard about the evils of the people and the filth of the city. Thankfully this actually helped. Their attempts at "preparing" me for what I was about to experience reminded me of all the progress I had made internally in the past couple months. I was reminded of the personal breakthroughs I had while preparing for this very moment. During that car ride, I reasserted my control over my fears and once again felt ready for what was to come.
The airport experience was one that I was most anxious about. I have never been on an airplane, but it wasn't the flying that scared me. I fully understand the physics behind air travel and I had every confidence that short of a major mechanical failure, those laws of nature that have held up airplanes for more than a century wouldn't suddenly change simply because I was sitting in one of the seats. No, it was was the security checks and navigating the airport that worried me. It turns out that all of my fears were completely unfounded and most were borderline ridiculous.
My first flight was apparently quite eventful, though I hardly would have classified it as such. The take-off and first hour of the flight were filled with turbulence that had passengers around me and the small children aboard quite terrified. Having no previous experience in air travel and no expectations, I was fine and actually found it to be a fun ride--albeit quite boring once the rocking and bouncing subsided.
Once we landed in New Orleans, I eagerly awaited my turn to exit the plane. I was seated about 3/4's of the way back so this seemed like an endless wait. When it was finally my turn I headed down the isle. As I turned and started to exit, I was hit by a blast of hot, wet air. After wondering where this sticky heated air was coming from, I soon realized it was the air from outside coming in from around the portal of the gate. I was shocked. I had known it would be humid, I knew it would be hot, but having never experienced the two together I was thrown by this new sensation.
After a rather frustrating and ridiculous ordeal, and meeting a very nice woman with an adorable child that was going through the same problems as I was, I finally set out from the airport with my snazzy rented 2010 Mazda 3. Now, just a little geography lesson for those of you unfamiliar with the city of New Orleans. Louis Armstrong International Airport is located in the suburb of Kenner which is to the west of New Orleans proper. My wonderful friend Lacey, with whom I stayed with, lives in Slidell which is slightly east and north(and across Lake Ponchartrain) form the city. Now, the basic route you have to take seems simple: get on I-10 and travel east and you will get where you're going. There are plenty of signs to make sure you navigate the interchanges correctly--this should be an easy trip to make. And it was...mostly. The problem I had is that the rental company was out of GPS units. This wouldn't be problem because the Sprint Navigation app on my phone works quite well and I had my laptop there in case I had to rely on a map without real-time direction. Well, silly me forgot to make sure the phone OR the laptop were charged. So, after a short jaunt into Mississippi, a few nail-biting texts, and about two hours, I finally found the road I was looking for. I had finally arrived at the place I would call home for 7 days and was warmly welcomed by Lacey, and her three overly amped children who rather hilariously called me Mr. Pickle.
That's all I have time to post right now, but I will continue boring you all with my trip hopefully later this evening! (and please forgive any grammatical or spelling errors. I have no time to proofread or condense so this might seem rather long and rambling. LOL)
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