The Joys Of Holiday Travel

 

So, I ended up having a great trip to see my family down south and surprisingly everything went smoothly…until my return trip.

Well, I take that back. I was annoyed on the flight to Tennessee because, being the cheap frugal traveller that I am, I tried to just take a carry-on and not pay $25 to check luggage.  So I’m proud of myself for remembering to do this and I get up to the ticket counter and I realize – I brought a bunch of liquid stuff. Son of a... So I have to pay the $25 and check my little bag anyway lest I throw away $25+ in shampoo, body wash contact solution, etc….

UGH. Darn you terrorists!

But whatever, that was a tiny issue and the rest of my trip was great. Until my flight back to D.C.

I was supposed to leave at 6:40 on Sunday, stop in Detroit, then land in D.C. around 11pm. My parents and niece dropped me off and as I waved at them walking through security, I wait for my bags to come through the Xray machines. And I wait. And wait. And finally the TSA agent asks if I have candles. I do – like four of them in two different bags.  They are Christmas gifts.  Are we not supposed to have candles either now??

Ugh! Terrorists!

The TSA agent explains I AM allowed to carry candles, but they have to run some swab thingy over them and send them BACK through xray. And by the time they finally finish this process, I have to RUN to my gate to catch my plane.

I frantically ask the guy at the counter about getting on the flight and I’m told: it’s three hours late. And that it will only get me to Detroit tonight. Forget about getting all the way to D.C.

But, they’ll pay for a hotel. In Detroit. Fine. Mom,  Dad, Niece? I know you want to come back in and get me and take me to have coffee for three hours somewhere!

So we do that, and I have to go BACK through security, explaining again that yes, I have scary candles in both my bags, blah blah.

I get to Detroit and am exhausted. And as I stand in line to check in at the hotel, I let my bag fall to the ground and hear something hit –

Candles!

After all that, I nearly break the darn things on the hotel floor!

Which reminded me of a ridiculous incident back when I was on an overseas trip during college with my friend Laura. We were souvenir hunting in Scotland and what did we decide would be a fantastic souvenir to drag home?

A PORCELIN. DOLL.

I'm not even kidding. We really did. She and I both had porcelin dolls given to us as we were growing up and we spotted this little boy doll in a shop called "The Piper" and he was wearing all the traditional Scotish gear and something broke in our heads and we honestly thought - we should buy that to remind us of Scotland! And drag it back to our hotel! And then pack it in a suitcase to go to a new continent!

We couldn't have found something more fragile if we tried. Stupidest idea ever. But after running around all day, getting to this store right as it was closing and BEGGING the owner to let us in, we bought those ridiculous dolls. As we walked back to our hotel - far away - Laura and I were swinging our bags when - THWAP! - our dolls crashed into each other. Both of stopped dead in our tracks, afraid to look. We finally found that the dolls were still in tact and we burst out laughing realizing we TOTALLY DESERVED THAT for buying something basically made of an EGG SHELL to travel home with. I've bought Souvenir Spoons ever since....

The candles ended up being fine and I get to my room and realize - I have nothing to wear to bed and no toiletry items…since I had to check my bag with all my liquids.

Dang it, terrorists!

Fine. Skin to the wind! I’m tired and don’t care what I’m sleeping in anymore! But I do feel gross from travelling and have no face wash.

Dilemma: Do I sleep in my makeup and risk whatever that would do to my skin? Or do I wash my face in hotel soap, with no follow-on moisturizer, and risk getting wrinkled by morning. I go with wrinkles and move on to the next problem:

Contact lens storage!

Thankfully, I have “gas permeable” (AKA basically glass contact lenses…I’m blind as a bat, don’t ask) lenses that don’t have to be in solution. So I grab two drinking cups from the sink – one for Left eye and one for Right, and start to take out my first lens.

And promptly drop it on the floor. On the DIRTY HOTEL FLOOR. And I have NO CONTACT CLEANER.

Grrrr! Now I may have wrinkles AND an eye infection.

BLASTED TERRORISTS!

I think about my NEXT problem – teeth.

I look around and see – bar soap. And one bottle of shampoo.

I begin to wonder how bad it could really be to have your mouth washed out with soap …when I call the front desk and thankfully they stock toothpaste I can get in the morning. I can just use my finger if need be. Fine. Going to bed.

And at some point I have the water running and I go to turn it off-

And it won’t turn off.

The cold side will, but the hot side just keeps on running!

Neat! I’ll be sleeping with no clothes, the skin on my face drying up, my teeth rotting and water running all night! Thanks Delta airlines!

I wiggle the handle multiple times and finally FORCE it all the way to the Left and it stops.

Ok! Now we are ready to get…..3 whole hours of sleep before having to wake up for my next flight.

Ugh.

I get up – get the water stuck on again, throw on the same clothes as yesterday, inform the TSA agents that I am, in fact, smuggling Candles, and finally make it back to D.C. in time to work and then sit in grad school class. ...And then stay after class for a group project. Longest. Day. Ever.

And to think I actually flew to Tennessee this time as a “treat” to myself to make the trip easier. From now on, I’m just driving the dang 8 hours and holding every bottle of liquid I own on my lap, just because I can.

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Top Ten Ways I Will Have Culture Shock In Tennessee Over Thanksgiving

10. Dinner does not cost as much as a car payment

9. People at cash registers are actually nice to me

8. People have houses. With yards.  And driveways.

7. Everyone roots for the same sports teams

6. Everyone has the same accent

 5. My social plans will not be altered by protests, motorcades, or security threats

4. There are parking lots. With multiple spaces. For free. And I can park my car in any of them. At any time of the day.

3. People will not honk at me if I hesitate at a green light (ha! Like I ever do that, but still…)

2. I will at no point during the week be wearing a suit or ID badge

1. Big. Trucks.

Just Call Me Grace

The other day at work, I was in the middle of a discussion, holding a cup of coffee I thought I had finished. At one point I got excited and started talking more with my hands - only to end up covered in "Sumatra Blend" and Irish Creamer. Which reminded me of another time when I did something very similar in front of *Chris (name changed to protect the innocent).

Mmm Chriiiis.

Chris was a guy I worked with years ago that I had a big crush on. He was an ivy league grad turned professional sports player, turned grad student who was basically interning for the office I was detailed to at the time. This was about a year after 9/11 happened and I was still working at the White House but my boss was asked to go help support the Transition Office that was creating the new Department of Homeland Security (DHS) a few blocks away. She asked me to join her.

And I did, not only because that was a freaking cool thing to be a part of, but also because I loved that lady. After 9/11, the White House staff started getting more security training and at one point my boss and I were both in possession of our very own Gas Masks. And my desk faced out into the hallway where people passed every day. My boss and I joked about how funny (and cruel) it'd be if I just casually wore my gas mask while continuing to type away at my computer, just to freak the crap out of anyone who walked by. The fact that my boss agreed that was a good idea made her alright in my book.

Then she told me "there's a guy in our new office that I think you might like."

I was skeptical. But still kept an eye out for this guy. And things were crazy busy at the time, as you can imagine. This Office we were going to was full of people like former CIA directors, heads of government departments, etc. And the office itself had to be put together while these people were, you know, only making the biggest change in the Federal Government since the creation of the Department of Defense in 1947.

No pressure.

So I remember standing in my boss' new office at the other building, surrounded by boxes, in my suit with my shoes kicked off in the corner somewhere. And I'm wondering where to even start when a guy walks in looking for my boss.

Ah. You must be sexy Chris.

I can only imagine how much of a hot mess I appeared to him as I looked up confused and shoeless.

Our conversation was brief (and I'm sure I was red-faced the whole time) but we actually became pretty good friends throughout our time there. And we also flirted a little, though he had a girlfriend (OF COURSE), so I always wanted to be cute around him.

And I always failed miserably.

And the ridiculous thing is - we only worked together there for a few months. BUT, because of my internal homing device, and because this town is a regurgitating spin cycle of people in various government-related roles, I ended up running into him in TWO OTHER JOBS after that.

Leading to these incidents:

While still at DHS-

• I occasionally had to get briefing materials quickly to the West Wing -- a few blocks away -- which lead me to just start bringing tenning shoes to work. So one morning, as Chris was calmly walking down the street towards our office like a normal person, he encounters ME running like a crazy person in my suit and sneakers, carrying a binder. Strike two for looking sane to this guy.

After the DHS trasition team dissolved-

• I went back to my job at the White House and Chris - became a Secret Service Agent. (Because being a hot, smart, athlete wasn't attractive enough....are you kidding me with this?) And one night I was walking down the sidewalk in Chinatown - and see Chris. With his cool suit and earpiece in. Guarding the Bush Twins. Yeah. No big deal. They were apparently inside the restaurant nearby. He and I were both surprised to run into each other and as we give each other a quick hug - HIS EARPIECE GETS STUCK TO MY SHIRT. Yep. Me=Graceful.

After that, I was volunteering at the Republican National Convention in Minnesota and see one of the guys managing/securing Senator McCain.....and it's Chris. What does this guy NOT do?!

After that, I was in my current company's headquarters out in Virginia taking training. And during training, I decide to go to a computer lab and check my email. And I KID YOU NOT, as I log out, I look up -

AND THERE'S CHRIS.

He has joined my company. And is also at our headquarters, in the computer lab, the exact same time I am. (most people are not at headquarters, we are typically onsite around D.C. with our clients. So this is not normal in the least.)

And here's where we circle back and have the coffee incident.

1. I look terrible. I resent having to take training that day so I'm wearing whatever I found first in my closet and little makeup.
2. What did I find first in my closet? Pink pants. Slightly too small. With coffee stains on them.
3. I'm so addled at running into him, that I start to gesture towards my training name tag to explain why I'm there -

And I forget I'm HOLDING A COFFEE CUP. And spill coffee on my own shirt.

The last time I saw Chris he had another cool job and had left my company. But I'm sure I'll run into him again in a year or so and I'll probably have toilet paper stuck to my shoe or my pants will spontaneously fall down to my ankles or something. Just another day.....

        

Aaand We Are Back To Gut Instincts

You'll be happy to know, I once again went against my intuition and agreed to meet up with a guy for coffee this week. And once again we can add to the volumes of Bad Dana Dates. This one's short, but still amusing so I figured I'd share.

I wasn't initially excited about this guy. I got an "uptight" vibe off him. But, once again, I told myself to give him a chance. Besides, he's a teacher out in Virginia so:

A. He at least won't be the typical Tool that is a DC Politico.
B. One of my exes - one of the few guys I've actually really fallen for (and the Old Mark in the Mark Scenario here)- was also a teacher in Virginia so I take that as a good sign.

And then I quickly realize I should stop talking myself into guys.

His suggestion for our meet up? Starbucks. After work. On a week day. Which is fine since we are just getting to know each other and that means we won't be stuck through an entire meal together if things never get interesting. But he chooses a Starbucks in an underground mall in a part of northern VA that few people hang out in. Have I mentioned I get easily confused in anything underground? Parking garages, malls, they are all labrynths to me. So I'm already anxious but I find it fairly quickly.

Then he arrives.

So I start to walk up to the counter and he says: "Oh, I'm not going to get anything because I just ate dinner and I'm full. Plus I already had Starbucks today."

Um... I already had Starbucks today too, buddy, but don't you think we should order something since we are here? And not sure if you remember this, but you are the one who picked the place.

Fine. So I'm like "ok, well I'll get something."

And I do.

And I pay.

He doesn't even offer to pay. Even though he asked me out. And chose Starbucks. Then indirectly forced me to buy something since he was not going to.

So we end up having small talk for like an hour. Which included him whining about the fact that D.C. drivers are too aggressive (to which I proudly announced that I'm one of those aggressive drivers), then we moved on to other topics- like the hike I was planning to do that weekend. He says he has done that hike - and wasn't a fan.

Shocker.

He says he doesn't enjoy scrambling over rocks (which, incidentally, is the part of hikes I enjoy most. I mean, come on. It's like a giant, natural jungle gym! What's not to like?!) and he warns me there's a part where you have to leap from one set of rocks to another, over a drop that would kill you if you misstepped.

Hmm. I've heard a lot of people have hiked this. I assume I would have heard by now that there is a CHASM OF DEATH involved.

But still, now he has me a bit nervous as we end our little chat and go our separate ways. So not only did this guy invite me on an underground date like we are a pair of Ninja Turtles, and made me pay for coffee I didn't need, but now he's given me anxiety about my hike and causes me to foolishly announce to my fellow hikers that we will be leaping over certain death at some point on Saturday.

Then I wait through our FIVE HOUR HIKE for this scary leap -- and it never came.

Done with him.

The next time someone encourages me to "just give a date a chance," I'm just going to yell "DEATH CHASM!" and run away....

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Can Someone Turn That Reticular Activating System Down, Please?

I’ve been asked recently to blog more about my ridiculous dating life. And unfortunately (?) I haven’t had many crazy incidents recently on dates themselves but instead, I’ve been uncannily reminded that I apparently should be in a relationship. Don't get me wrong, I’m absolutely a romantic at heart, probably to a fault. I grew up believing the movies about love that makes people go to the ends of the earth for each other and I just assumed eventually that just happens -? In the meantime, though, I had things to do! There are OTHER COUNTRIES out there people, I needed to touch them. And what is all this STUFF to learn about? And OUTSIDE! There are so many things OUTSIDE!

In other words – I was never that girl who sat around pining away for some guy to “complete” me. But that’s not to say I didn’t want someone, I just wasn’t obsessed with it and wasn’t going to settle for someone I didn’t have a real connection with. (Actually, I physically can’t settle anyway. I’ve tried. I dated a guy twice many years ago because he was so darn nice and I thought I should date him …. I ended up physically repulsed by the end of our relationship. My body actually REJECTS affection if my heart isn’t interested. Neat, huh?)

And not to say I haven't fallen for people, it just doesn't happen often. My heart is extremely picky and even when my brain finds someone "perfect on paper" for me, my heart is usually like: eh, not in the mood, sorry!

Anyway, that was all fine until recently when the universe conspired to forcibly "turn my light on."

(Some of my friends believe people - particularly men - get to a point in life when their "light comes on" and they just decide it's time to get married. Then they go out and find someone to do that with. Boom. Done.)

Which brings me to The Reticular Activating System. My pastor, Mark Batterson  -who is a voracious reader and geeks out on all sorts of topics during his sermons, which I love - was the first to introduce me to this term. Among many other things, it’s basically the part of your brain that puts things into categories and tells you what to pay attention to. It’s what makes you all of a sudden notice how many other people on the road are driving the car you just bought.

Lately, most unfortunately, mine has been “activated” around Pairing Up. It's gotten to the point of being downright humorous.  I feel like all of a sudden, every song on the radio is about love. All the people I pass on the sidewalk are holding hands. During my trail runs, I’ll look over and see that all the ducks are in pairs. Or, things happen like a few weeks ago, when I was with TWO DIFFERENT GROUPS OF PEOPLE at TWO COMPLETELY SEPARATE EVENTS and no joke, within a span of a couple hours, this scene played out:

One Person, to an entire circle of multiple people of which I’m a part: Is everyone here single?

Then, specifically only to me: Dana, are you?

....Couple hours later, in a different setting:

One Person, to an entire circle of multiple people of which I’m a part: Is everyone here single?

Then, specifically only to me: Dana, are you?

What tha?

Then, this morning, I’m simply getting a parking pass for my garage at work. And the lady goes through the whole spiel and is writing down what spot I get and she looks up and says “So this is for a Single Driver, correct?”

Me: *Face Palm*

After countless wedding invites and facebook posts about marriage, I feel like I'm being punked. I'm warily eyeing my desk like "those pens weren't lying in a pair yesterday!...who is doing this?!" And perhaps I'm noticing all these things all of a sudden because my light is supposed to be on and I've been too oblivious to notice before. I assume if my soul mate is out there somewhere, knowing me, I'll either trip into him or spill coffee on him so I'll find out then. In the meantime though, I'm sure I'll have more adventures in DC Dating like here and I'd like to get back to having my reticular activating system only notice things like Steve Madden shoes or V8 engines, thank you very much. :)