Adventures to/in Buffalo

  It's really hard to believe I've only been out of Los Angeles for two days. It seems like a week. 

  My mother and I left for Buffalo, New York, for the Society of American Magicians convention banquet Friday, July 17th, at 9:46am. Our flight was at 11:48am, and we got to the airport without any issue, checked our bag, went through security (making sure to take all knives out of my purse first), got on board the Boeing 747, and waited. I mean, waited... Two hours. There was a mechanical problem with the plane, so we sat until it was fixed. (It's a good thing French Existentialism is interesting, because that's pretty much all I had to occupy my time.) 

  So, of course, we missed our connection to Buffalo from Chicago. It was about 10:30pm Central Time then. There were three flights to Buffalo the next day, two of which were filled, and one of which would put us into town too late for the banquet. After having a spontaneous Dixieland dance party waiting in line for customer service, we were put on stand-by for the 7:45am flight, and had tickets reserved for a flight to Rochester from which we could drive into Buffalo. American Airlines put us up in a near-by hotel, and sent us away.

  By this time the baggage impoundment had closed, so we were out of luck there. We were driven to the hotel with nothing but our carry-ons. "Aloft" is where we stayed, which is very chic, modern, and mildly ridiculous lodging. The house music was bumping, people crowded around small tables in the lobby, talking excitedly. A pool game was in full swing, and then the pool itself was in full swing, losing much water owing to so many swimmers, or rather, splashers. 

  When we got to our room, which was in the height of fashion, I'm sure, I tried to start this entry, and this is as far as I got, "I think I'm in Chicago. I'm not entirely sure." I ended up reading Bukowski's Post Office in its entirety. It's an amazing read, and I highly, highly recommend it. (I guess something good did come out of a terrible lay-over.)

  I didn't sleep too well, but at 5am it didn't matter. A strawberry yogurt lite later we were on the shuttle, off to the airport. 

  Only one seat was available on the 7:45am flight, which I took. Poor Mother, on the other hand, flew to Rochester, and then drove into Buffalo. She just managed to wrangle the last rental car the airport had to offer.

  The reason why I was brought to the banquet, as I have yet to reveal, was owing to the fact that I was the recipient of the Melbourne Christopher Most Promising Newcomer Award, which was a true honour. It is so special how magicians envelop youth into the community, and I feel like the phrase "it takes a village to raise a child" is largely true. 

  Anyway, it's late over here on the East Coast, or very early morning, as the case may be, and I think that for once in what seems like three weeks, I'm going to sleep at a decent hour. Tomorrow morning before our flight, which hopefully won't cause us any problems, we're going to drive up to Niagara Falls to go on the Maid of the Mist. I'll keep you posted.