D.C. deux and travel home followed by to Fullerton

First, let me lay aside the bad faith issue. While I appreciate everyone’s desire to understand my “bad faith,” to explain the details would be so tedious, you’d be sorry you asked. Vague version: I asked this woman to be part of a team. She refused to play nicely. Tried to change the nature of the game. She tried to derail the whole project. I thanked her; told her I’d pay her off and then told her she wasn’t going to get to play any more. She was pissed. Whatever. I have not yet responded to her e-mail.

Ok, so the conference actually started at noon. I am taking the elevator down in the hotel and run into the Assoc. Dean of Education at my IHE. I like her, though she and I could NOT be less alike. She’s glamorous in sort of a retro way, with matching clothes, handbags, nail polish, etc. We take a cab over because (she says) of the wind. Fine with me. I had walked over there once, discovered the huge-as bridge over Rock Creek Park that one had to traverse and was glad to take a pass this time.

Lunch is entertaining because of how funny SocStud Dean is. My home department at IHE is in the College of SocStud though I currently work in a different college and for a different dean. I’ve always been afraid of SocStud Dean. Her affect is confident, assertive and intense. She’s hilarious. I had no idea. She even makes fun of Assoc. Dean of Ed for the matching wallet and purse.

We go to dinner that night and I end up at a small table with the provost of whom I am very fond. He makes me nervous, but that’s only by virtue of his position, because he’s speaking in bad French, telling jokes, and being very cool.

After dinner, I continue my search for peanuts. My honey asked for them, and my honey doesn’t usually ask for stuff. I’ve told her I’m getting her a gold-rimmed W mug if I can’t find peanuts. I can’t tell you yet what I found yet. You’ll see why shortly.

The next morning is uneventful. As SocStud Dean and my friend N leave for Dulles, I find myself jealous. I have a terrible iced tea at Cosi and get a cab for the airport. My cab driver is one of those who wants to talk politics and doesn’t speak English well. It’s a DC thing.

I go to the electronic counter and Delta offers me an “earlier itinerary” for $25. I take it, since I’m scheduled to arrive at 11:30 and this one will get me in at 10:30. Problem: the longer leg (Cincinnati-LAX) only has middle seats. Me=panic attack. The Delta lady tries to help. Nothing can be done because my Atlanta seat is now gone.

I call my honey. She calms me down.

Then, (sigh) I run into two of the folks from my IHE. I don’t know either one well and I’m sure they can tell I’ve been crying.

We get through the security line only to discover that I have lined up in the wrong security line because I’ve been crying and that they did so as well because they saw me. We walk down to security line #2 and queue up again. This one is longer. Still, we get through it.

I hit up the Delta lady for an aisle and she finds me one. Cool. The flight starts to board. I call AD, she stressed. Can’t help you AD, but I’m feeling ok due to aisleness. They call groups for a while then they stop. Then the police and TSA show up. Then they tell us to leave the terminal. There’s been a security breach. They are getting boarded people off the plane.

One of my now traveling partners runs up to the desk and asks if we can be moved to another flight at Dulles. The guy gets us on one at 9:30 (it’s 5:30 when this happens). We go down to baggage and though we’ve been told they’ll off-load our bags, the woman laughs at the idea. When I mention that my laptop is in my bag, she fusses at me for putting it in there. Apparently, you’re not supposed to put them in checked luggage. I didn’t know.

I’m tense and am wishing I had:

1. Flown out of Dulles in the first place
2. Flown out of BWI in the first place
3. Left my ticket with the Atlanta flight, because getting stranded in Atlanta is ok. My parents live there and I could have stayed with them
4. Not checked my bag

Now my honey’s gift and my leather coat and my laptop are all going to Cincinnati and I’m going to Dulles and flying on a different airline. We get a cab. New traveling partners have no cash. So I pay the $75 for the cab ride.

Delta guy booked them and not me. United only has middle seats. Me=panic attack deux. This time I can’t cry.

We’re then pulled out for extra security because we’ve changed airports, airlines, and have no luggage. The woman narrates what she’s doing. She’s too vague. Instead of “Now I’m going to pat down your legs” she should have said, “now I’m going to put my hand in your crotch.”

Then she messes with my ipod. Don’t mess with my ipod. First, it’s my ipod. Second, it has limited battery life and I’m going to need me some Battlestar reruns on this flight.

I go straight to the gate after my ipod and I are violated while my companions go have beer and food. The guy gets me an aisle. He’s little and troll like and I would kiss him full on the mouth if I could.

I eat a sub and call Delta about my bag. Here’s something you may not know. Whichever airline you fly on last, even if they never had you bag, they’re responsible for you bag. Even though my bag is actually inside a Delta plane, United is responsible for it. As of 8:30, my original flight (and thus my bag) had not yet left for Cincinnati. We get on the plane and I feel like the luckiest person in the world. There’s no one in the middle seat of my row. I could weep for joy. I think I do.

The flight takes a long time because of major headwinds. We land at almost 1am. I head for the United baggage office, file my claim and go get the parking shuttle to where my little blue truck waits for me. The 405 is shut down at the 10. I turn off my car and read my book. At the point, I’m cried out.

When I get home, I have to wake my H and the dog up to get in the house. It’s 2:30am and I’m supposed to be in Fullerton at 10am the next morning for a meeting.

I have nothing against Fullerton. Or the meeting. But it takes me almost 2 hours to get there and 2.5 to get back. The latter trip with gastrointestinal issue resulting from the roast beef I had at lunch. I could have lived without Fullerton.

My luggage? It’s supposed to be delivered between 2 and 4 this afternoon by United. They called at 7:15 this morning.

I’m not at a meeting I told Sandra I’d go to. She was nice about it, but I feel bad.

It may be that my return trip is bad karma from:

1. That I booked travel out of an airport named for Ronald Reagan
2. That I dropped a diaper bag on a woman’s head on the flight to DC
3. That I didn’t contact my friend Deb and make time to see her
4. The presidency of George W. Bush or the mug of same
5. My putting my laptop in my luggage against TSA guidelines

Hard to say. I can say I’m glad to be home.