PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

Check your gate on one of the 1.6 gazillion monitors that decorate the terminal when you are at the airport. Just because you think your flight is departing from gate C25 doesn't mean it is actually departing from gate C25. This is a big picture lesson for all you alert Power Love readers out there.

See, I was sitting at gate C25 at O'Hare, waiting for my flight to San Diego, staring at the little elevated, accordion-type hallway thingy that connects the airport to the plane and wondering why there was not a plane at the other end of it. Odd, I thought, but I was surrounded by people wearing various articles of clothing, all of which had some form of "California" emblazoned on them--Cal State sweatshirt, Bruins hat, UCLA t-shirt--and, not incidentally, sitting under a sign that said, "Gate C25 to Los Angeles." Well, according to my map, LA is only two inches away from San Diego, so why shouldn't I be waiting for my plane to San Diego at gate C25 to Los Angeles?

That's what the lady told me when I checked my baggage--gate C25--I remember it distinctly because at the time I was paying very close attention to her and my wallet and filling out those flimsy luggage name card thingies and watching this other woman toss (brazenly!) Her Majesty of Cannondale onto the conveyor belt like Her Majesty was just some bike or something and hoping I remembered my helmet and wondering where my credit card was and hatching a plan to end world hunger so I know FOR A FACT that Check-In Lady said Gate C25.

Harumph, I said to myself there at gate C25 with the elevated, accordion-type hallway thingy without a plane on the other end of it, and I got up to hunt down a Coke because Dr. Hope said I should not fall asleep on the flight (bad for blood clots)(actually, great for blood clots, bad for person with blood clots), which is doctor speak for: Don't get drunk and take two Xanax before getting on the plane.

Clearly, I was under doctor's orders to overcaffeinate. The nearest place for Cokes that I knew of was Hudson News (my new favorite magazine store)(millions of fashion mags)(yay) and Hudson News was 10 gates away. It was 2:50. My flight was scheduled to leave at 3:05.

On my way down to Hudson News, I happened by the flight monitors, which look like TVs, so naturally I stopped to stare at them because if you are a human who does not instantaneously freeze and stare whenever a TV shows up, you are not alive, and I looked to see what was up with good ole Flight 679 to San Diego.

Ah ha! That's why there was no plane attached to the elevated, accordion-type hallway thingy--because there wasn't supposed to be a plane there. The plane to San Diego was leaving from Gate C23. Ahhh...all the puzzle pieces were falling into place.

As it so happened, Gate C23 was 26.2 miles away from Gate C25. Luckily, as alert Power Love readers know, I have been Training this winter and so have built up an athletic prowess that is rivaled only by my extraordinary face-planting abilities.

When I arrived, gracefully, calmly, at Gate C23 and saw the Now Boarding sign being turned off and a flight attendant closing the door to the elevated, accordion-type hallway thingy, I very articulately said, "Oh, dear, so sorry, I believe I'm on this flight." And she, very politely, said, "Wonderful, let me seat you in first class, Your Highness of Morris Land."

And then, everyone lived happily every after, wearing gowns made out of drapes and talking to anthropomorphized squirrels and walking around a suspiciously clean Manhattan. Also, Enchanted was the in-flight movie.