One Week in Iowa

It’s been a week in which I partied like I was 22 all over again, kayaked on a beautiful day in Lake MacBride and was told off by the ‘lake’ police for swimming off the ‘grid’, randomly met a well-known political cartoonist in a bar full of writers and poets late one night, ate more burgers than a healthy person ought to eat in one week, picked fresh apples from the orchard, wrote some, sat through a bunch of mind-numbingly boring ‘orientation’ sessions and two entertaining readings at the warm and cozy Prairie Lights Bookstore, was mistaken for some poet from Chile named Steve, got an Iowa City Hawkeyes t-shirt for five bucks which upon wearing people would randomly yell ‘GO HAWKS!’ at me, had the misfortune of spending my first night with my window almost shattering from the noise coming from the annual freshman party in the park literally meters away from me, wrote some more, and drank, probably, an entire barrel of coffee.

So that’s one week down.

Nine to go.

I think I love this place.

 

The Curious Case of the Overzelous Luggage

I arrived in Iowa City yesterday afternoon to start my 10-week writing residency at the University of Iowa.

Russell met me at Cedar Rapids airport with a tiny bit of paper with the International Writing Program logo on it.

Then I lost my suitcase.

I had a feeling that that might happen when I had dropped it off at the weird check-in system in LaGuardia. So I was partially not surprised when it didn’t show up on the conveyor belt, but still slightly annoyed.

Russel and I went up to the counter as I anxiously waited my turn.

As it were, and oddly enough, I was told by the lady at the counter that – get this – my suitcase had arrived on an EARLIER flight! I realized then where it all went wrong.

See, my flight from New York to Chicago, where I caught my connection flight, was HALF AN HOUR early. It arrived at O’Hare around 30 minutes before scheduled time, so my luggage just kept on going as I wanted for my flight at O’Hare.

This was probably the only time in the history of my flying that A) a flight was half an hour EARLY, B) my luggage arrived at my destination BEFORE me.

American are good like that. The get shit done before they even happen.