Once in a while, I have the opportunity to take an adventure. This time, I was taken back home to where I grew up.
Getting there was the beginning of an adventure...
It all started after I checked in my bags at 5 in the morning. I walked around the corner to find a line a mile long (literally), wrapping around the airport terminal. The line was so long and so slow, that airport personnel were yelling out flights and giving those people a fast pass. At 5:30, I hear "Chicago Flight 234, please follow me." After a few long monotonous chants of airline info from the airport personnel, people started to flock to the "fast pass" lane. One after the other, like lemmings to a cliff, people followed the sounds of the chanting. Some people from other flights even joined in, quickly to be kicked out of the "fast pass" lane. Have to give them credit for jumping in the shorter line. If I were more alert and awake, I probably would have done the same thing too!
6:00 arrives and I
finally arrive at the TSA gateway, Only to be stopped and allow the jam up in the lines to clear up.
6:10: I pass through the TSA gateway to now stand in another loooong line. One TSA man states that only children 12 years and younger do not have to take off their shoes. Immediately, a VERY young looking man with stubble states that he could pass for 12. Everyone in the line within earshot, began to chuckle.
6:20: I make it to the conveyor belt where I disrobe, throw my purse and clothes under the x-ray, and and led to a really big machine that will x-ray my whole body. The TSA man tells me to hold still for 10 seconds. I count to 10 and becomes tired of standing still. I start to wiggle and shake like no one's business. The TSA man hangs his head low, burrowing his eyebrows beneath his hand. Suddenly, he yells, "I need a female assist." Whoo-hoo! Today's my lucky day! I'm about to be felt up!
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| The machine that got me frisked! |
6:25: A very healthy TSA woman walks over and states, "come with me young lady", I had to laugh. I was older than the TSA woman. With my guidance, she picks up my belongings and walks me to the
special corner. I stand on the mat with feet and the TSA woman begins her "probing". She was very professional, yet I couldn't stop laughing because the idea of being felt up by a woman in blue plastic gloves, tickled me pink.
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| See the pretty blue gloves? LOL |
6:30: I was in the clear and allowed to walk towards my gate. By then my gate was boarding, so I stepped in another long line and boarded my plane.
9:00: I arrive at the Portland airport. I have 3 hours to kill before I board my next flight. As I exit the gate, I hear this hauntingly mesmerizing and mysterious cello music lingering through the corridor. I walk a few steps down the corridor to see that a man named, Adam Hurst, is playing a small cello. His music was soulful gypsy music. I could have listened to him all day long.
www.adamhurststudio.com.
As I continued to walk down the corridor, I saw a big sign with the word "SPA" on it. Oooooo, I like spas. I decided to check it out. Walking into the small room, the walls were dark wood with Asian Indian music echoing throughout the room. The prices were decent and I decided I partake in a neck and head massage. I was lead to this decadent chair a top a wood block. A warm lilac scented pillow and wrapped around my neck. I was given a glass of water and told to relax and wait for my massage therapist.
As I waited, I noticed one male massage therapist giving a woman a foot rub. Clearly he was doing a great job because she was in bliss. What was more amusing to me though, was that this massage therapist looked orgasmic giving her a foot rub. Shaking my head, I decided not to stare. I might break his "chi".
10 minutes later, my massage therapist came to work on my neck and shoulders. I thought was already relaxed and tension-free before the massage. Nope. She found every pressure point and hidden knot that lurked within my neck and shoulders. 30 minutes later, I was euphoric from a fabulous massage. I thanked her and was on my way in search of food.
www.thedragontree.com.
Once I finished my high protein, three-bean salad, I headed towards my next gate.
11:00: I had about an hour to kill, so I hunkered down and began to play on my iPad. Out of the corner of the right eye, a young man comes up to me and says, "great tat!" I was pleasantly taken aback because no one comments on my tat. Turns out he has the very same tattoo.
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| Om Mani Padme Hum |
As quick as he compliments my tattoo, he disappears.
11:30: my tatted friend reemerges and I decided to ask him about the story behind his tattoo. He tells me that his mom believed in all things zen, so through studying different beliefs, he became entranced with Tibetan Buddhism. OK, I can dig it.
12:00: my plane to Seattle has arrived!
1:00: I have now arrived in Seattle. As I exit the plane, I see all the passengers crowd around the outside of the plane. My eyebrows are raised, but I assume they must be waiting for their carry-on luggage. I head on towards the baggage claim.
1:10: I ask the luggage claims personnel if they can tell me what baggage terminal I need to go to since I can't find my flight. They kindly tell me my luggage will be coming off of baggage terminal 12. I walk towards the baggage terminals and stand between 11 and 12. That way I'll be able to find my luggage fast.
1:20: my flight number is displayed and I wait patiently for the arrival of my luggage.
1:40: nothing. No luggage is coming down the chute. I go back to the baggage claim personnel to see if they can help me solve this mystery. After scratching their heads and searching all baggage terminals, they find my bag sitting right next to their station. Evidently, it arrived at 1:07 and I was supposed to pick it up outside the plane. Whatever.
1:45: my mom picks me up and takes me home...
finally.
That was Day 1.
Day 2 and 3 began to blur together.
My mom and I traveled from friend to family member, explored the mall, and treated ourselves to makeup and a haircut.
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| 3 generations of Norwegians |
Around one of those days, a friend messaged me to visit her at work. She just happens to be teaching at our Alma mater. The one and only, Stadium High School!
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| Stadium High School |
A few years back, Stadium went through a mere $80 million dollar renovation. WOW! My friend gave me a tour and showed me the new layout. I thought I knew how to get around but I was wrong. The floor plan completely changed and a sub basement was added. Oi Vey!
I was quite impressed and in awe of the 1906 dark wood, vaulted ceiling architecture. Money was well spent! Plus, every classroom had a smart board. These smart boards can connect to the Internet and are fabulous! I drooled with jealousy. In my classroom, it took my 2 years of consistent urging for an Elmo and LCD projector. Then, it took me another year for to have iPods in my classroom. Being a Special Education teacher, technology was the last thing to enter my room and I wanted it!
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| Smart Board |
Day 4
Time to say good bye and head back to my home, husband, and dogs.
4:45 PM: My mom is glued to the traffic cam watching the ebbs of cars flowing throughout the freeways, fretting that we will be stuck in traffic.
5:00: my step-dad rushes home, hurries my mom and I into the car and we were in mad dash to the airport.
5:25: we made it in one piece to the Seattle airport!
5:30: I say my good byes and walk towards an available kiosk. Checking in was easy. Finding the baggage check-in was another story.
A bit overwhelmed by the magnitude of the Seattle airport, I look for the nearest agent for baggage help. I spy with my inquisitive eyes, an agent so bored at the over-sized baggage department and head over to ask for help. As I inquired where to check my baggage in, he lazily swings his arm back and points behind him. Seeing that I was disrupting his reverie, I decided keep questioning him. "Could he check in my baggage?" "Why can't he check in my baggage?" "Does he have anything else better to do?" The agent yawned loudly and rolled his eyes. Clearly, he was a nominee for
Employee of the Month.
Irritated, I walk around the corner and find the next agent and runner-up for
Employee of the Month. She harshly and unlady-like states that after the sticker is placed on the luggage, I must place it on the conveyor belt. Wow! I had to do her job for her! Once I did her job, I walked away hoping that was the end of the curmudgeons. Nope, I was wrong.
Standing in line to enter the TSA gateway, a grumpy woman stood in front of me grousing about this and that. The, the TSA agent snapped at anyone who dared to rebel and duck under the ropes. Oh, the horror!
Fortunately for me, I walked through the metal detector and was spared the frisking. My grumpy compadre was not so lucky. She snarled at everybody and anybody that looked at her. At one point, she yelled at the TSA lady to "just get on with it". Her husband didn't even stick around and watch her being frisked. He left and went on to the next gate.
A couple escalators and a train later, I arrived at my gate. Phew!
I boarded my plane and arrived home safely.
A few days of adventure and home was good enough for me. On to planning my next adventure!
