I have traveled alone – a lot. Given I am the youngest of the family, and the only one who lives on the west coast, I go to them. Given my recovering perfectionist status, I still exhibit “type A” travel traits. Yes, I have a packing checklist. I store it on my computer and ceremonially print it out prior to each departure. I commence packing two days before my trip, and I use packing cubes. If you do not have packing cubes, I highly, highly recommend them. eBags pays me nothing for this endorsement. Packing cubes allow one to rifle through one’s suitcase at lightning speed to procure a swimsuit or clean pair of underwear. I also bring a water bottle and quickly fill it once I pass security. I continue to marvel at folks who gawk at it and remark “Wow, how do you get THAT through security?”
Speaking of security, it is a rare event that I make it through without a TSA agent touching me in a way that warrants fine wine, a five star dinner and some smokin’ hot chemistry. I remember leaving Vegas in my new, designer jeans. You know, the ones with the awesome metal designs on the pockets which make any woman’s pancake butt look voluptuous. Note — never wear these jeans through security, ever. Evidently my derriere posed a threat to national security and required a physical pat down. The female TSA agent kindly asked if I wanted to do it in private. Given the early hour of my flight, I needed my double soy, latte stat. Hence, I opted for getting felt up in front of the entire procession of passengers. Interestingly, I have supposedly posed a threat to airport security by . . . wearing a large watch, pony tail, nothing (just kidding), and dangly earrings. I strive to practice thoughtfulness when I go through security. I remove any object which will activate the metal detector. I willingly choose the back scatter machine even though the picture is leaving little to the screener’s imagination. I limit my baggie of liquids to the quart size bag. Honesty, I ‘ve witnessed many a passenger coming through with two gallon freezer bags. One woman brought in a full bottle of Kai body spray. Honestly, I was jealous. Have you smelled that stuff? It is amazing.
I am known to take VERY early morning flights in order to arrive on the east coast at a reasonable hour. (Do I love my family or what?) Hence, my first order of business is to find a large cup of java. Then, I find intellectually stimulating reading material. Ok, I am going to be f’ing honest with you folks. I bring The Week and use it to disguise People. Don’t judge. I know many of you have done the same thing . . . Did you know the stars are just like us? They go to Starbucks and pump their own gas. Who knew? Cross country flights give me plenty of time to read, watch movies . . . I experienced a minor myocardial infarction when the wifi signal disappeared in the middle of Gravity. That movie was intense.
My flight to my sister’s place was relatively uneventful, and I exited the aircraft only to feel water dripping down the back of my legs. In my hurry to deplane, I overlooked securely fastening my water bottle. The bottom of my backpack was soaked. I ran to the bathroom and urgently blotted it with paper towels. It was like trying to soak up Lake Michigan with a cellulose sponge . . .no bueno. I panicked. Not only did I have a wet back pack. I had a wet bottom. Desperate times called for desperate measures . . .thank God the bathroom had a Dyson airblade. It’s not just for drying hands anymore. I will leave the rest to your imagination and assure you I left that bathroom dry . . . Using an object for a purpose other than it’s original function is the definition of creativity ya’ll.
I spent several days visiting my sweet sister and Dad while attending a conference. Then, I returned to the airport where I am happy report I made it through security without a patting or wanding. My first plane left on time and so did my second! However, after one hour on the tarmac we taxied back to the gate due to a mechanical problem. Ugh. This event presented me with quite a dilemma. I bought a box of gourmet chocolates for a friend who offered to pick me up at the airport. Given the delay, the decent option was to graciously thank her and say, “I brought you these chocolates.” However, I needed self-soothing after several hours in Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson airport with VERY limited vegetarian food options, no dessert and travel stress. I ate the dark chocolate, and I must admit it made me feel immensely better, so did the salted caramel, hazelnut ganache and pinot noir truffle. . . Currently, I am one hour away from home in a full-blown sugar coma. I look forward to landing . . .to tail wags and licks from my splendidly imperfect dog and crawling into my splendidly perfect bed. Good night.