Sunday, July 23, 2017

Could be, May be

What a week.

I honestly don't know if I've ever been this happy to be back in Oklahoma.



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For those not in the know, I got back yesterday from spending the last week in Omaha, Nebraska - or, as the Counting Crows put it, "Somewhere in middle America." 


I went there to learn how to train others in Youth Mental Health First Aid - the adolescent version of a program designed to help people both learn about mental health and learn how to help those with mental illnesses who may be in crisis. 

It's a wonderful training for those not well versed in mental health language and familiar with the signs/symptoms, but for those with a degree in the field, it's a week-long refresher course on topics most of us are still quite fresh on. 

The week is split into sections. The first two days, two instructors actually teach the course, modeling it for the people in attendance, so they can see what it looks like when led appropriately. The next day, the class is split in two groups (one group going with each instructor) and then the course is broken down into the smallest possible pieces, with the instructor going into painful detail over every single slide. 

The last two days are spent with every participant getting a 30 minute portion of the program that they are asked to present on in front of their peers, giving them an opportunity to speak to a live audience on a material they haven't spoken on before. We're critiqued, graded, and hopefully then graduate from the program, ready to return home and begin teaching. 


My group's instructor was a woman named Mary - a woman who has been with the MHFA program since it's inception - whose passion is only rivaled by her uncanny ability to unknowingly put her foot in her mouth. 

At different times this week, she inferred that returning soldiers were objectifying sexual aggressors, school janitors were uneducated (while, unbeknownst to her, a school janitor's wife was in her class), and that one woman in our group was so pretty that it would be distracting to her audiences - encouraging her to wear her hair differently and to wear a turtle neck while speaking. 


- all while not mentioning a thing to the other 10 women in the room about their looks. They all clearly had an acceptable level of beauty going on. 



It's a weird thing, silently judging someone who had the power to send me home empty-handed. 


...It reminded me of college. 


Regardless, it's a very full week, and by the end of it, you get to know your fellow participants quite well. 

And let me tell you, my fellow participants were a real cast of characters. 

Enter: Edgardo. 


Edgardo is a 6 foot plus, muscular, Puerto Rican Adonis. 

Through the week, Edgardo let us know more and more about his life back in Puerto Rico, and every story was more hilarious than the last. 

It started off as expected. He showed us pictures of him at the beach by his house. He showed us pictures of his supermodel girlfriend. He even had pictures of him catching lobsters near his home. 

Then he told us how his day starts at 4, so he has time to exercise. 

Then he told us that he makes his own rum. 

Then he told us that he has his own radio show. 

Then he told us that he'd been on a telenovela. 



As the week went on, being one of the only three men in the course, "Of course he does..." became my mantra. 

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The week was quite enjoyable, though. 

I traveled with two coworkers that I didn't know well before the trip, and we actually had a very good time. 

Living with a family of picky eaters, when I travel I like to eat foods that I can't get at home. Thankfully, the two girls from work that I was there with were as adventurous food-wise as I am - so we ate some really great stuff. 

We had Vietnamese pho, we had Indian food, and we even got Omaha Steaks one night. 

The hotel we stayed at was great, the staff was awesome, and the shuttle they offered saved us a fortune in taxi costs. 

However, by the last day of training, I was READY to be home. 

If I had only known what laid in store for me. 


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Friday morning, I got up and spent the first half of the day doing closing things for the training. Certificates were handed out, evaluations returned, and we got our mid-week test results back. 

I flew out at 2, so I left the hotel around 12 and headed to the airport. Everything went off without a hitch. Slightly hungry, I opted to wait for the Chicago airport because I was positive it would have better options. 

It wasn't until we were nearly to Chicago that the first of many mishaps happened. 

The pilot came on and explained that because of storms in the Chicago area, we couldn't land there just yet - and would remain in the air until it was safe to land. 

Only, that time didn't come soon enough, so we changed plans and landed on the runway of a small airport miles away. 

No problem, I had a three hour layover. 

After two hours of waiting on this small runway in a cramped airplane seat, I began to worry. It was starting to become clear that my plans of eating at the Chicago airport were probably not going to happen. 

No problem, I just want to make my plane. 

We finally pick up and get to Chicago with fifteen minutes to spare before my next flight boards. Though, as with everything else this day, I was literally as far from my gate as I could be. So, I hoofed it through the airport as fast as I could in order to get there on time. 

You know those moving sidewalks that they have in airports? I love those things. 

I never understood why some people get on them and STILL walk as fast as they can towards the end. 

Friday, I was one of those people. Though, silver lining there was that I felt like a damn superhero moving that fast while people next to me (off of the sidewalk) seemed to be standing still. 


Seriously, I'd go back and do that again if I could. 

But, luckily, I made it to my gate in time because the storm had delayed this plane landing. Though, the gate attendant informed us that we'd be boarding any time, and to not leave the gate area if we could avoid it. 

No problem, there was a cold sandwich shop right next door. 

And that's when I found this monstrosity: 




The package was marked "Chicken and Provolone", and through the clear plastic of the package I could see at least one piece of chicken and a round piece of provolone. Unfortunately, the brown paper portion of the package was hiding the asparagus. 

While I've since learned that some people actually eat asparagus on their sandwiches, I learned quickly that I'm not from that camp. I pulled the asparagus off after trying it, and finished my ten dollar sandwich that had two pieces of fajita chicken and one piece of cheese. 

No problem, I was still at the gate and was going home. 


The plane landed, and we boarded. Everything seemed to be going to plan, and we taxied away from the gate and towards the runway. 

Then, dead stop. 

The captain came on to inform us that because of the storm, all flights were grounded until things cleared up - OR until they could chart us a takeoff that got us around the weather. 

We sat on that runway for two hours. 

Eventually, the captain came back on and said that FAA rules said that they couldn't keep people on a sitting plane for more than three hours, so they were taking us back to the gate so we could have the opportunity to get off if we wanted. Mind you, they weren't sure that if we got off we could get back on - but to rest assured that they'd find out before anyone tried. 

With my phone at 25 percent, I began to worry. 

No problem though, the captain assured us that he and his crew had just come on, so if we were patient - we WOULD get to Tulsa. They were willing to wait it out if we were. 

I was. 


At the gate, I was able to charge my phone and visit with Shelly while people around me dropped like flies. Some left to get hotels because they were positive this flight would be cancelled. Some went to get rental cars because they had obligations they couldn't be late for. 

I learned many flights had actually been cancelled already, and started seeing cots appear in the airport hallway for people who couldn't get to a hotel. 



But not me, the captain promised that if I was patient he would be too - and I'm nothing if not tolerant. Especially when the pay off was going to be getting to see my wife and kids while also sleeping in my own bed that night. 

My plan of landing in Tulsa at nine and getting home at ten a forgotten dream, I hunkered down near the gate attendant and began my wait, all the while my phone kept beeping to inform me that my flight was going through a series of delays.  




No problem... storms don't last forever... right? 


Sadly, the gate attendant let us know just after midnight that the flight had in fact been cancelled - and informed us that we needed to go to the United customer service desk in order to reschedule for the next available flight. 

Even worse, hundreds of other people in the terminal were getting the same information, so the customer service desk looked like the line at an amusement park ride - if the line at an amusement park ride was full of sleepy, worn down people, many of whom were trying to wake themselves up by cussing. 


(that lady totally knew I was taking her picture)

Thankfully, the woman in front of me in line found out that she had been rescheduled already by checking her flight on the United app, which allowed me to find out the same information. It was 12:30 and I was to fly out at 12:15 the next day. 

Debating between staying at the airport and getting a hotel, I opted for the hotel when I looked around and saw that every possible comfortable spot was taken by people sleeping on the aforementioned cots or huddled up in corners. 

I called the hotels.com number to find out what hotels in the vicinity were available only to be informed that the closest vacancy was 20 minutes away. 


... and I took it. God help me, I took it. 


At one that morning, I was driven twenty minutes by the world's most talkative cab driver (not being sarcastic, I now know more about this dude than I do my own kids) to a Best Western that I was promptly informed had no hot water. 

I was given a complimentary toothbrush and toothpaste and went to my room to fall face first into the bed. 


All things considered - it was a shitty experience, but it could have been MUCH worse. 

I think it's always important to keep things in perspective. I was drained because I had been away all week and spent the better part of a day in an airport - but ONLY because I work somewhere that trusts me enough to send me to be trained. 

I crashed in a seedy motel, but it was available and I was able to afford it. 

AND, after spending the last week at a fancy hotel eating the world's lamest continental breakfast of bagel halves and fruit pieces - I was excited to find out that Best Western has a full breakfast bar (for free), with sausage, french toast, an omelet station, and much more. 




So basically - that's my travel story. The trip that I will now measure all other trips by when things inevitably go wrong. 

I got home Saturday exhausted and ready to fall asleep - but I got home. 


I had a blast of a week (minus the parts where I compared myself to a walking Puerto Rican statue), and came home after learning a thing or two. 



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Now, I'm going to finish this up, call my grandma to catch up with her since it's been over a week - and then we're taking the kids to Tulsa to spend a few days with my mom and step dad. 

I need to mow. I need to get my paperwork from the week in order for work tomorrow. I still need to catch up on a bit of sleep. 

But, I'm home. 






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