The adventure begins.....

So here goes....

I'm new to the blog world and having something to do with myself is a bit of a new thing these days as well so you're going to have to bare with me. At least for a minute or two.... Can you do that for me? Cool. Thanks.

I'll start off with the monumental cross country journey that I sadly have just returned from. It seems like a decent place to start and makes me seem adventurous and somewhat outdoorsy at the same time and that's a perfect place for us to get to know each other.

I arrived, thanks to an oddly safe ride from my next door neighbor, at the airport with time to spare. We'll call him Wilbur because that's his name. It's actually Lee but he uses Wilbur. I'll tell ya more about him later. By time to spare I mean hours. My flight wasn't until 7:29 est and I roll up proudly at the crack of 3:30. So having checked in without a hitch, at least at this point, with the nice lady at the Frontier desk, I found myself with plenty of time to spare.

My budget, which was minimal, caused me to stray away from $50 airport beers but I knew I could find solace in some pre-flight nicotine in specific outside designated areas. I could have opted for the glassed smoking room inside the airport but those things are just plain nasty. And coming from a smoker that says quite a bit.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, crazy Phoenix chick.

So having given my lighter to Wilbur because I had expected it to be confiscated at the security checkpoint, I found myself without the much needed fire. I chatted up a few arriving and departing travelers, because I'm friendly like that, but more so because they were smoking. One guy was on his way to Costa Rica. His brother just landed a gig that jetted him off to the exotic locales filled with prime fishing and road side thievery. I say thievery with prior knowledge. I had a boss once, true story, who has a condo on Flamingo Beach and a house further inland. He has to chain down things that could be stolen and warns not to stray to far from populated areas. This guy was jazzed about the impending fishing trips and days spent in the deep blue hurling tackle at over sized marine prey. You can catch you some fish in those waters. And lets be honest.... fishing is just fun.

Ok, so random "could I trouble you for a light" stories aside.... Let's get back to crazy Phoenix chick.

So there I find myself, checking my phone to see how many hours are left, I go through my lighter-less routine and ask random girl for some fire. Knowing what I know now I'd be chasing down Mr. Deep sea or some of the Swedish folks I met. Lighters aside, accents are neato.

This girl, I can't remember her name, was all out of sorts. Her original destination was Wichita, KS. Why she was held over, all day with 4 hours to go, at the lovely ATL airport was beyond me. And her for that matter. She was quite wordy and would make sailors blush with her chosen vernacular. She mentioned, repeatedly, of how she should be in Kansas and was unsure again why she was past her destination and waiting on a plane to go back in the other direction. At this point I'm imagining the residents of Kansas were busily writing thank you letters to every airline. She was a weird one. One statement that was widely used was "I'm next to effing Florida" Being familiar with a map I added a heartfelt, yep! Actually, it's more on top of Florida but I didn't want to argue semantics with her. Then she continued on how she was out of money, had no working phone (out of the five, yes five, that she had in her bag) and all of her flight food had been confiscated; food that consisted of donuts and milk. When I think relaxing in-flight beverages, milk doesn't make the list. I found this odd too because she was gnoshing on a big box of donuts at the time. I dare not think of where she hid those. So after the kind folks at the Northwestern curb-side check in gave her an available outlet to charge her phone, and a $10 spot to boot, I was to the point of moseying elsewhere. At least as far as permittable smoking was allowed and further away from crazy. She repeated her story over several phone calls, each becoming more angry in their tone. The proximity to Florida was a recurring theme. She also hinted about the lack of funds but she's barking up the wrong tree as far as expendable cash was concerned. Encountering me would have been far worse than a hard luck story to the residents of Fruita, Colorado. What you say? I'll get to Fruita, Colorado later as well.

So this went on for quite some time. You have to do something I suppose to pass the hours. Then she called what I'm guessing to be her boyfriend. She kept asking, pleading, for him to find them a nice place where they could escape and hide from the rest of the world. Especially since she was right next to Florida on a flight that should have stopped at points westward of Atlanta. I wanted to grab the phone and instruct him to find that special place for himself and take the time she's stranded here to relocate. But who am I to stand in the way of love. And to be honest I'm pretty sure he was thinking the same thing.

So that lead to "Let's go get a drink" which I assumed meant let me go buy the two of us a beer. That's not going to happen. So I checked my phone and thought it best to make my way to the gate. I forgot that you have to hop a train to get to the gate so I was concerned at this point that I would end up missing my flight because I spent too much time with crazy Phoenix chick. I didn't want to have to make that call.

So off to the checkpoints I go. Made it fine going through the lines and things until I got to the put your stuff in the tub scanner. A normal procedure that I imagine goes off without a hitch. Not so much in my case. I get on the other side of the deal to find that my sunglasses and my favorite hat had been stolen. I know it's just a hat and some cheap sunglasses but it's my hat and glasses. I just hate when people take stuff that doesn't belong to them. I guess them grabbing my book bag with camera, phone, etc. in it would have been much worse but it's still stealing and a pretty cowardly thing to do.

After asking the attendants they made a 1/2 ass Atlanta approach to retrieving my belongings and sent me on my way with an equally less impressive "sorry about that".

So after a few bitchy phone calls to my mom and Keiti, who unfortunately are the ears I bend when trouble arises, I was at my gate and ready to board.

I end up sitting between two random folks who weren't in the mood to talk. One rocking an ipod which I was immediately jealous of and the other busy at her laptop doing something in word. I really try not to peek in situations like that. Plus from a quick glance it seemed boring. Neither were in the mood for small talk.

One guy who was having an obvious problem was the 'gentlemen' behind me. He was frantic and angered because his head phones quit working and the reader wasn't accepting his card. This started off as a quiet roar and then became a flurry of profanity. Most of which was met by the steward who was none to happy. This guy, and I'm being stereotypical, had the look about him that gave me the impression he enjoyed the company of dudes in a biblical sense. I've got no problems with that but bad or not it's the easiest way to describe him. Props to him, though. He bowed up on this cat like a homeowner to a drag queen that set down a over flowing mixed drink on a corner table without using a coaster. Perhaps on an antique end table that he and his partner Glenn found during a weekend antiquing trip to the Hampton's. The perfect tone and with the verbiage that you would direct the same instructions to a toddler. Sir, "WATCH YOUR MOUTH" repeatedly. The guy kept going on but he was quickly met with the same advice and soon quieted. All in all the steward handled the situation rather well. Again, I don't want to sound like that guy but I think you get the idea.

The rest of the flight was just fine. A little cramped but that's cool. Then the plane lands in Denver. Which is weird because we drove past the airport while making our way through Colorado.

So at this point I'm watching all of the passengers exit the plane, a bit giddy because I know in just over two hours I'll be touching down in Portland. Nearly the whole plane had emptied when the stewardess stood in the aisle before mine looking oddly at me. In between goodbyes and thank you she took the time to ask me "what are you doing" I said I'm going to Portland. She responded that "You need to catch another plane"

This was all news to me. I was told at check-in that there would be a brief layover and that I wasn't to switch planes at all. I hurriedly grabbed my carry on and left the plane.

At the end of the tunnel thing, I can't recall its actual name, there was a lady instructing travelers on which gate their connecting flights were boarding. I asked her for mine and she needed to look it up. Spokane, etc. and many others were on the tip of her tongue but I seemed to have thrown her a curve ball by mentioning Portland. She walked to the end of an overly long counter and accessed the terminal, terminal. Get it? So after some checking she informed me D29. When I asked where that was, pointing she said "About a mile that way"

I thought great. So much like the juice, pre- double homicide, Hertz commercials, I ran like a madman through the airport taking full advantage of the moving sidewalk deals. I was the third to the last person to get on board the plane before they buttoned up the hatches.

This flight was far more pleasant.

I know it's getting long but I am without the ability to write something briefly.

After helping the lady next to me with her overhead light (I have long arms) I soon started a nice conversation with her. I wasn't really paying much attention at first but when I did glance over I was weirded out. I felt like I was talking to my friend Keiti, that is if Keiti was 25 years older and I stayed the same age. It was just weird. I somehow felt like McConahey (sp) in dazed and confused) ok a stretch but I do that sometimes, too.

The same glasses, or similar enough to make that assumption, the same mannerisms, hair style, etc. It was odd. So like a couple of school girls we chatted away. I broke out the big bucks for a few New Castles in the can (which have yet to show up as being charged to my account) and the rest of the journey was enjoyable. By this point my hat and glasses being stolen was merely an anecdote and less of a brutish attack on my personal belongings.

We shared the same love of Portland, aside from the fact that she has a rental there in Lake Oswego and will live there full-time in 23 months when her husband retires. I still dig it and when it's actually doable I will call Oregon home as well. Like I told Colleen, it's on the front burner, there's just no flame under it right now.

After landing, 15 minutes early, the Keiti Doppleganger walked me through the airport and told me where baggage claim would be found and where Colleen should be waiting for me.

I felt kinda bad though because when we approached the area where folks meet arriving loved ones, etc. I exclaimed, "Don't see her, don't see her..... Don't... there she is" and I bolted. I did manage to look in the dopplegangers general direction and she waved nicely with a smile on her face and wished me a good trip. She was a nice lady.

So, despite lots of emails and a recent phone call, I hadn't seen Colleen in over nine years. We were both profiles on myspace at this point and here we are ready to embark on a 12 day, 24/7, ten state adventure across 1/5 of the country together.

This should be interesting....