Back to Reality

Soldier Boy, the baby, and I just got back from a whirlwind of a weekend trip out to the west coast for an Army Family Event. It involved airplanes (which I love), places I have never eaten before (which turned out to be great), and reimbursement of all travel expenses (which simply cannot be beat).

To begin at the beginning, I love to go places. If I stay put for too long I get antsy and start itching to go, somewhere, anywhere, just to inject a little flav-ah into things. This can be accomplished by something as simple as a one-day excursion, even; I just have to get out and go. I am not a sedentary person. I've traveled by plane, train, and automobile, but my favorite by far is air travel. There's just something about airports, even just the thought of them, that gets my senses tingling. I become a rabbit, sitting up on its haunches, paws up in front of its chest, nose up in the air, sniffing maniacally: "airport? airplanes? going places?"

It's comical at best. Even luggage excites me.

And getting to go places with Soldier Boy is even better (!)

We took the baby with us because he's still in pull-ups and is the most labor-intensive of all the boys, but he's a veteran air traveler, so the only problem we had was desperately trying to keep track of all the tools in his Handy Manny toolbox that he insisted on bringing. Then we had a little issue with the incompetent morons at United Airlines (yes, I will name names here, don't think I won't) who apparently couldn't figure out how to actually open enough gates to allow their passengers to disembark, so we sat in the plane, ON THE GROUND, for more than 45 minutes, while they played spin the bottle to decide which of their 47 planes sitting on the tarmac would actually get to taxi to what was apparently their only manned gate. (Hint: it wasn't ours). We ended up missing our connecting flight by over an hour, were told we would automatically be re-booked on the next flight to that location, then were told that not only had they not re-booked us, but that the next flight was full, and that next flight after THAT wouldn't leave until 10:30 pm. And this was at 1:30 in the afternoon. Absolute madness. We ended up switching airlines, which meant we had to go down to baggage claim to get our checked bags, take a bus back to the other side of the airport to the terminal, go back through security, and wait another two hours to get on our new flight. I have a headache just thinking about it.

The hotel we stayed at the first night was, ahem, not quite up to par with what I consider Doubletree Hotel standards, and happened to be located smack in the middle of what was apparently the industrial district; our complimentary toiletries included two sets of earplugs (I kid you not) to help block the deafening noise from the train tracks two blocks away. We decided to switch hotels for the next night, but when we checked out, discovered we had been smacked with an "early check-out fee" of $50. After some ranting and raving on my part, they eventually agreed to drop the unjustifiable charge and we all went on our merry way to a Marriott property (which we prefer anyway), and spent a very pleasant night. On hold.

We had learned that there was a possibility of inclement weather at home the next day or so, and in light of Soldier Boy's mandatory travel for work on Monday, and the massive delay we experienced on the way TO our West-Coast Weekend, decided to try to move our return flight up in order to get home sooner. To do this, we had to call the travel agency (whom we're required to use for this type of travel) and request the change. Problem was, the entire Mid-west and East coast were getting pummeled by a winter storm that was (go figure) affecting air travel, and the agency was swamped with calls from everyone and their aunt's cousin's grandma's uncle trying to find a way out of that particular mess. We sat on hold for over two hours before anyone even picked up the line. Fortunately, we did actually reach a semi-competent individual who was able to accomodate us, and made it home, on time, with luggage complete and intact.

But other than that...

No, really, it was fun, I promise. We ate at In-N-Out Burger and Round Table Pizza, neither of which I'd ever had before, and both of which I loved. We ate at Panda Express, which we have here in OK, but which I'd never eaten at before either, and of whose Orange Chicken I immediately became a fan. We got upgraded on our rental car and ended up with a Sebring that smelled brand-spankin' new, and if you think that didn't make me happy beyond words, you'd best quit thinkin' now. I love new-car smell. And no, the air-freshener-new-car-scent doesn't cut it; it has to be actual new-car smell straight from the factory, ma'am. And it was.

Soldier Boy's question to me on our way home: "Was it worth it?"

Yessir, soldier. Yessir. I love going places, and most of all, with you. It makes me happy.