What had been over a month in the making, in determining which game to actually attend (good thing it wasn't the WAZU game...which was suck-fest '10), we were so excited to jump LAX (nightmare!) to Portland International (how an airport should function).
And so...like usual, I packed a few hours before our trip. Because there's nothing like crunching the time. We debated checking a bag. Then I found out that military personnel don't have to pay checked-bag fees (awesome!). So we co-packed a small duffel bag. I packed some snacks, and we left an hour earlier than planned because Mr. Wookie was fearing the worst with traffic.
He couldn't have been more right. This is the "Shell" gas station in Santa Monica before **it hit the fan. It took us roughtly an hour to travel the 15 miles from this gas station to the airport. It. was. a. nightmare. And the "Shell" burn-out couldn't have been a better marker for the future traveling we'd encounter. I really should have packed a flask.
I think I've said this before, but LAX is a nightmare. I don't know if I'll ever fly out of there again. Parking's a nightmare. And costly up the ass. There are more terminals that strands of Hepatitis C on Pamela Anderson. And security was so retarded that I had to go through a body scan because I fit the profile of a terrorist. A gingy terrorist.
But I firmly believe in hitting up a local bar to the gate for a pint and salad, so thank you [some bar I forget it's name] for being right across from our gate. Because nothing calms the nerves more than beer and fiber. And it also passed the hour we had to wait before boarding. And fun fact: This is the first time Mr. Wookie and I have ever flown together. I know, wtf?????
It's been 7 years together and our first flight. So I was kinda nervous, and kinda nostalgic. Nervous in that I'm so used to traveling alone, so I booked it out of security...accidentally leaving him while he's still tying his shoes (slip-ons, people!). And nostalgic because it's a first that I've had someone to travel with that wasn't my immediate family.
In honor of traveling with Mr. Wookie, I was introduced to his flight ritual. Cocktails! In my entire flying career, I've never indulged in beverages in flight. (This may be because I'm cheap.) Always the ginger ale. So...when in Rome...have a vodka tonic. Minus the lemon wedge. But that would have been awesome. The funny thing is...is that...after the second beverage...both of us...kinda...fell asleep...in our chairs. And we woke up descending into Portland. Awesome. That's how to travel on a 9:50pm flight. Alcohol-induced naps.
Okay, so I may or may not have been peeing while I took this picture. I just wanted to catalog the intense hippie nature of Oregon. The airport discretionarily saves water depending on if you pee or poop. While some people are deterred by seeing this on the stall door, we Oregonians high-five each other. And if you're traveling to our neck of the woods, you're already on the recycling bandwagon. You just probably don't compost your own feces. Me neither.
And come Friday, after we gorged ourselves on sleep and breakfast, we made the long trek (an hour and a half) to our favorite college town in Oregon. Baby Sister was our driver.
And before we could get into town, the weather went super shitty. "How many pictures of shitty weather can you take?" - Baby Sister. Lots. But we love rain. Because it weeds out those who can't hack it. Like the sorority girls who spray tan.
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