This morning, I was already awake when my mom opened the door.
"Time for Jerusalem!" she said, happily. Then, she rushed upstairs to make warm bran muffins. I knew she was trying, so hard, to get me excited, ready and rearing for this potentially nerve damaging trip.
No need.
I'll admit, there may have been a small swarm of monarch butterflies in my stomach when I considered meeting my group ... but I was (and I still am) ready to go to Jerusalem.
So when my mom came to wake me up, I popped out of the covers.
My light was already on. My hair was sticking out in 500 different directions. And my suitcase was packed upstairs (the product of a restless sleep. Hence, the hair).
A day later, I am not in Jerusalem.
My group and I arrived in Phoenix, AZ, at around 11:15 this morning and stayed there until about 7:00pm.
We spent the hours making first introductions-nervously approaching one another, then tossing customs to the wind and lying on the chairs/basking on the floor to talk and laugh.
But at 7:00, the news was final.
"Mechanical malfunctions," they said.
"We apologize," they said.
The airport tried to ease the creases in our foreheads with vouchers for one meal (the veggie pizza did help a little ...), a free water bottle, and setting us up at a rather charming conference hotel.
But, now, I may be at this charming hotel for a week.
Humph.
I am just ready. I am ready to get on a plane for 15 hours. I am ready to run around in Jerusalem. I suppose the anticipation will just make getting there even more wonderful.
(I am trying this new optimistic approach. I'll let you know how it goes. It is hard to have the glass half full when you are sitting in 110 degree weather ... I think I may just drink up my half full glass.)
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