WORST DAY OF MY LIFE

The trip from Paris to Boston should have only taken 8 hours. It ended up taking 25 hours.
My luggage weighed a total of about 75 kilos....170 pounds-ish.
I cried a lot.
I will try to make this as brief as possible...
7h - My luggage gets stuck in the elevator at my apartment. I somehow managed to forget that the inside doors don't close when it's obstructed a certain amount, yet the outside doors lock. I had to call my landlady to wake up the guardian to open up the elevator.
7h15 - My taxicab service has forgotten me for my 10h15 flight. I lived at least an hour away from the airpot. Call the service and they apologize to me, but tell me that they can't help me. The street cabs won't take me, and the numbers I call don't want to help me either.
7h45 - I am running with my luggage from the 88 bus I took to and through the RER station to get the train that goes to CDG. The RER stations are essentially riddled with staircases. I have about 4 flights to go down, and about 5 to go up. After my luggage falls down the stairs a few times, a bunch of guys helped me out by hauling them up the stairs with me to catch the next train. I'm dripping with sweat.
8h17 - I get on the RER train. I am calling the parents in the US to see if they can help me locate exactly where my flight is.
9h05 - I get off the RER train and start RUNNING through to my terminal. I am thinking I won't make it because my arms are about to fall off.
9h20 - I BARELY missed the cutoff for check-in by a few minutes, mostly because my flight was slightly delayed. I run to the passport check and am finally put in the front of the line to make my flight.
10h35 - I am put on my airplane and fall asleep. I end up talking and joking with the guy next to me on the flight for a few hours, watch "Michou d'Auber" and "Je Crois que Je L'aime".
**7 hours and 6 time zones later...**
12h45 - We land and go through customs for about an hour. I am told via voicemail that the flight to Boston has been cancelled and am put on a Manchester flight. That means I can't yet check my luggage until I make the domestic terminal. I get to the terminal and wait 2 hours (at least) in a crammed, chaotic line to be told that all of the flights to Boston AND Manchester have been cancelled for the day due to weather. Maybe I should try Laguardia?
14h45 - I call my family to find out all flights into Boston have been cancelled. I am directed to go from JFK to Penn Station to TRY to get a train out.
This is when I start sobbing and crying.
15h - I grab a cab (still crying) that accepts VISA (because my bank card, and cash, has been frozen because I was using it still in Europe?). He helps me out with luggage and promises to get me there, but that there is hour-long traffic into the city. My mom calls back to say I can't get a train to Boston (sold out), but that I have to take it to New Haven, where Dad and Aimee will bring me home. I cry more then fall asleep in the cab.
17h - I get to Penn Station and get my ticket. I grab an unwanted dinner and wait for the 15minutes-late train.
21h35 - I arrive to New Haven, where Aimee and Dad run to me, grab my bags, and drive me half dead and asleep in the back of the car.
I got home at 12:30 in the morning.
That's the general breakdown of it. Really, one of the worst experiences I've ever had in my life.

BUT NOW that I am, in fact, in the states again, it is time to say farewell to the Kim Is Foreign blog, and return to the Kim Is Domestic blog. Ciao, Paris. I love you, and will miss you