Chevelle-The Red

Now is as good a time as any to post on recent happenings. I've neglected and I'm sorry. I've not even journaled since before finals...cant bring myself to it.

Where to begin. Well, I'm in chicago staying with friends I'm blessed to have. How did this come to be? Sounded something like this

Aditya voicemail:"Adi hi, its Alyssa listen I'm stuck in Chicago (voice breaks) Please tell me you're here Adi, call me.

Adi: "Alyssa! Whats up? Whats wrong?"
Me: (Crying) "Its all my fault and I'm so stupid!"
A: "Where are you? What happened?"
Me:"I landed in stupid London and stupid said I was working in Ireland and I didnt have a work permit and they held me for 24 hours and they questioned me and then they sent me home!"*sob*
A: "Alyssa! Its okay! You have a place to stay, you are welcome to stay as long as you need."

So I left thursday. Drama finding my flight because it was with bmi who doesnt even fly out of ORD anymore but apparently bmi means United/Continental. Whateves. I left my only jacket in the van with the only camera. Fine. 7 hours later I land in London, an hour late, missed my connector but that was fine, they were ready with my next ticket that they re-booked. Fabulous. Stopped at flight connections "What are you doing in Ireland." Note, when you go to Au Pair in Ireland (which is apparently against the law) DO NOT say you're working. You're just visiting because really, thats also what I was doing.

So I sit in a detaining facility. And then I sit some more. And no one will talk to me or tell me really whats going on. They're short staffed and everyone you ask says "I DONT KNOW! I DONT KNOW YOUR CASE!" Grand. Thanks. So there was an Indian guy who showed me where drinks and food were and I said "Listen I know you dont know my case, thats FINE! Could you just talk to me please????" And he was real cool. He got real and after I explained my situation he said "Theres 95% your going home. Sorry. Theres nothing you can do." Fab. Great. Thanks. So Ireland was going to reject me, so England could not allow me to go to Ireland because then they'd be responsible for me, and they didnt want that. So then I had to get them to let me into the UK. So I interviewed and told what I would do for 2 months (travel) and how, I had the funds, and multiple friends in the area. I was very nice to everyone and very understanding and patient (not that I had any other option). I told the complete truth during my interview and then she left to tell her boss my situation and 5 hours later she returned with a smile on her face to tell me that I was rejected. I cried hysterically in front of 2 Irani men, 1 Greek and an a young guy from Gambia who gave me a stick of gum. I couldnt stop. I couldnt breath. I couldnt believe it.

It was 10pm. I should have been hanging with Jim Power and Padraic Bacon by now. I was supposed to meet Kate MeGarry at the airport 13 hours ago, did she know where I was? How long did she wait? At midnight they picked me up and took me to the place where I slept. I'm pretty positive it was a jail. The toilet was in the shower. There was no curtain on the window, it hadnt been cleaned from the last person who was held there. I was locked in. I remember lying there crying myself to sleep thinking "eI hope mom is thinking about me, becuase I'm thinking about her." I talked to her the next day and she told me she couldnt sleep because she was so worried. The only other thought while trying to sleep was for some reason about Tyler Reynolds. Kid travels a lot and I thought, Tyler wouldnt be crying if he were here right now. He'd be sleeping. He'd know that he was safe and everything was going to be okay, he wouldnt be crying right now. So why was I crying?

I did have limited communication to home, and Kate. While on the phone with dad he said "Lys- I know this sucks, I know and I'm sorry but Lys...I'm just so happy you're not in Pakistan." Haha, always with the silver lining. But hes absolutely right and I knew it. This wasnt Bridget Jones Diary, I wasnt in Thailand. I was in LONDON, people were okay nice to me. I was given my choice of free beverages and snacks, and for a very hefty price I could call home and friends in Ireland (special thanks to Padraic Bacon who was the first called and first to attempt action). So back to Pakistan. Dad sees the entire thing as a learning experience and hes right. He assured me that we're gonna make this happen and my summer will be saved. Hes there to put up money I know he doesnt have and "it sucks Lys--but its gonna be OKAY".

At 3 in the morning I was picked up and taken back to the airport see because they had to pick me up 5 hours before my 8am flight. Makes sense I'm sure to someone somewhere and thats all that matters. I hadnt eaten anything and drank nothing but water since the flight, Indian guy kept offering but honestly I dont know who could eat during all this. That is until I sat in this last holding room the "Womens room". I knew I was goin home, there was nothing I could do, there was a tv so I sat watching Gaga videos and drinking tea and eating tesco biscuits. 3 rounds of 'em! And yes the whole thing indeed sucked....but I got tea and biscuits and I was almost happy.

So I chilled and got back on the United flight that I came in on, same staff and they remembered me. We talked on the way over and they took pity on me and talked to me throughout the return flight.

I think I want to be a stewardess. When I landed in Chi I talked for a long time to the AerLingus girls who were really great and helped me out, I talked to the boss who called immigration for me. Everyone was willing to help and I appreciate it. But Amir...Amir was with Air Italia and he gave me his number and said he wanted to help and offered to let me stay at his house that night. Also said he knew people and would see what he could do for me...a little creepy but I'm sure he meant well but alas I called Adi.

To see John Dichiara's face when those elevator doors opened!

John is Adi's roomate. Adi's parents were visiting for the weekend so they went to dinner and John and I got deepdish. To be clean. To be home. To be with great company eating great food in a great city, its pretty priceless. I sat in the pizza parlour, late on saturday night people watching and talking to John about poverty in the tropics. I felt good. I felt blessed.

I screwed up, but I was okay.