Trip Day #1: RIC to PDX (or The Very Badly Started Day Ends Up A-OK)

WARNING: Long. Take the phone off the hook. Remember to pace yourself. You still have four more days worth of adventures ahead of you.

3:30 a.m. is when the alarm went off. Truly, this is more of a go to bed time than a get up time. But adventures awaited so I struggled out of bed and into the shower.

In a complete departure from my usual travel persona, I am pre-packed and have only to add toiletries kit to my suitcase. I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself -- everything I need for 5 days in one carry-on bag. A Festivus miracle, if ever there was one. Of course, I have a minor tantrum downstairs as I realize that one pair of sunglasses has gone missing. Oh I may be going to Portland with only two pair of shoes (a tribute to Mallory), but I'll be damned if I go with only one pair of sunglasses. (I'll comment on the silliness of taking two pair of sunglasses to Portland later.) I give. It is 4:40 and the rules dictate that I am at the airport by 5 for my 6 a.m. flight. Oh, and Mum is now waiting in the car.

I arrive at the airport and navigate the self check-in with only minor difficulties. I marvel at all the people who appear to be awake. I stand in line at airport security. One of the weirdly awake people turns out to be a chatter. I'm startled by a sudden invasion of my personal space and a voice says from behind my right ear, "What perfume are you wearing? You smell GREAT." I turn, he straightens up with nary a hint of shame and smiles expectantly. "Metal," I say, "Sadly, it has been discontinued." We commiserate on how good things don't last forever as we shuffle forward barefoot, pushing our bins of possessions. And my carry-on.

I cruise through the metal detector and skip happily over to collect my belongings. This is where things go all pear-shaped as the English would say. A young, serious man is standing by my carry-on. "Is this yours, ma'am?" And I'm escorted to a side area. Where the young man says, "you have gels in here." To which I reply, "Yes. Is that a problem?" [Note: Yes, I do know about airport security issues in the past few years, but as stated, I'm not a carry on gal. I usually pack a pair of shoes (give or take) for every day of vacation. I plan to bring home books, rocks, and possibly cereal if I'm going to Canada, so the bag has to be big. In any case, I was not up on the 3-1-1 rule.]

Officious young man now says, "You can't carry those on. You can only have them in your checked baggage." To which I replied, "well then give me the bag and I'll go check it," and reached for my bag. To which smarmy evil man replied, "STEP AWAY FROM THE BAG, MA'AM. YOU MAY NOT TOUCH THE BAG ONCE I HAVE BEGUN MY INSPECTION." And the little prick waved me off and THEN opened my bag. I begged him to stop, he went slower. I tried to point out where offending items were so he would just stick them back in quickly and let me check the bag. Nope. He had begun to enjoy his small moment of power. By the time he had inspected everything and laid it all item by item on the table, it was too late to check the bag.

So, this is what I left at security in Richmond:

• 1/2 full bottle of Paco Rabanne Metal perfume. $70 original price


• 1/2 tube of Burt's Bees Blemish Stick --maybe .15 oz?? $7 original price


• 1/4 tube of Tom's of Maine apricot toothpaste $5 original price


• new travel size tube of Colgate 1 oz? $.99


• 1/2 bottle of OPI nail polish -- Blue My Mind -- $7 original price


• new APPROVED AIRPLANE SIZE Nexxus shampoo $3


• new APPROVED AIRPLANE SIZE Nexxus conditioner $3


• new APPROVED AIRPLANE SIZE Artec texturizing serum $3


• 1/2 bottle Neutrogena Sensitive Skin sun block. $8 original price


• new full size (my bad) Nexxus Headdress. $9


• new full size (bite me) Bada-Bing! Hair Gel. $5


• assorted sample La Roche-Posay Toleriane moisturizers. O.K. these were free, but they aren't available in the U.S.


• Total: Even with depreciation on the used items, at least $100

The kicker? My bag never even made it into the cabin! We were directed to leave bags on the gangway and they were loaded under plane. Let the fuming commence.

Then a miracle happened. I was in business class and a little bottle of water, a pillow, and a blanket were waiting for me in my single seat. Now this is the way it was supposed to be. A few deep breaths and some free coffee and o.j. and my mood improved. Then they couldn't uncouple the plane from the airport and the whole uncoupling thing made me think they should just turn a a big hose on the plane and that seemed funny at 6 a.m. But uncouple they did and we flew quickly and uneventfully to Atlanta.

I had a short layover in Atlanta -- time to charge the phone at a "traveler station" and determine the Starbucks line was too long -- and then I'm on the next plane and there is room for my now less than full luggage in the overhead and again, thanks to Mallory and her amazing rewards points, I am in business class. There was my bottle of water! Hello, old friend! There will be a 6 pack of you in my belly before we touch down! I settle in.

Business class is sweet. You hear the same announcements as the people in the back and then our personal flight attendant turns the knob and whispers seductively into our business class ears that we won't have to pay for anything -- movies, headphones, drinks, food. We even have our own bathroom. THIS is traveling.

So on my personal viewing screen, I watched Jumper (not Liman's best, but entertaining to watch on a plane. Seriously? That jumping shit would be AWESOME!), tried Cloverfield (sorry, J.J. Abrams, didn't hook me), listened to some cds (Arctic Monkeys, Madonna, new Prince, New Order), and watched a Chris Rock HBO special. Time flew by and soon the rain was on the window pane and we were descending.

Mount Hood was nowhere to be seen -- an unexpected twist for me. My seat mate finally made conversation, but too late, bud. I've read enough 'chick lit' to know that if you were going to be a globetrotting devilish financier who would annoy me but then sweep me off my feet after a few chapters, it would have happened as soon as we got on the plane. But HOORAY -- I was finally ON VACATION. And thanks to the time change, I still had nearly a whole day ahead of me.

Mamy was waiting for me past the security check point (a rather well appointed check point with quart bags and clear 3-1-1 instructions, but more on that later) with a fetching new short hairdo and a welcome present of fuzzy pink socks. I assume the giving of socks is traditional when picking up guests from Virginia who wear shorts to Oregon in June. In any case, they are lovely.

We hopped on the MAX and started wending our way into downtown Portland. As on any public transportation, we saw and heard many unusual things. Women should really think twice about eating bananas in public. I'm just saying. Of course they were probably trying to figure out why I was wearing shorts when they were wearing scarves. I kid you not. There went my mental image of hardy northerners.

We checked into my hotel -- the Portland City Center Marriott -- and agreed that my view would be very nice when the sun came out. I changed into jeans and we set out to accomplish our first mission: purchase my new Docs.

As fate would have it, my hotel was 2 short blocks from the only official Dr. Martens company store in North America. (Do your vacation pre-work on the internet -- and this is the pay off!) Again as fate would have it, there was one pair of made in England 8 eye navy blue boots in my size, and I wore them out of the store. In fact, I'm wearing them right now so they'll be all broken in and perfect by fall. Of course I have a picture, although it doesn't do them justice by half.

And did you know there is no sales tax in Portland? Perfect place to buy new boots and replace your toiletries and clearly-a-weapon toothpaste.

So freshly shod with a veritable bounce in my stride, Mamy and set off for home. Now Mallory and Mamy have moved on up, as the Jeffersons would say, to a de-luxe condo in the skies. No lie, there is always someone there to magically push a button and open the doors for you. You even need a code to get the elevator to move, so don't even think about trying to drop in on my mostest hostesses. We chatted, we hydrated, we watched the kitties play with their new toys. And then Mallory showed up fresh from her MAX ride home from the airport. Hooray, the gang was all there! So food and drinks were in order.

A nearby McMenamins outpost fit the bill. I was ready for some Oregon beer and fish and chips seemed a natural accompaniment. McMenamins is a Northwest chain with different types of hotels, pubs, and eateries serving the McMenamin beers and liquors. Mallory is a dark beer lover, so she opted for the Terminator Stout. Despite having read Pint-Sized Ireland: In Search of the Perfect Guinness by Evan McHugh on the plane, I opted for the Hammerhead Ale. Quite enjoyable. I thought the ladies had tired of me very quickly when their directions to the restroom began, "well go out the door and turn right," but that turned out to be the truth. The bathroom was VERY CSI. More on that later.

Refreshed, we took a stroll around the garden blocks of the Cultural district. Lovely tall trees and lush green grass -- a pleasant sight after the early scorching in Richmond. We caught up, we laughed, we wandered. There is nothing like new adventures with old friends. Eventually, we felt we should do something, so we decided upon a movie. Mamy opted out, so Mallory and I set off to locate the theater on our own. A few extra turns and several flights up and we were just in time for Iron Man. Robert Downey Jr. has always been one of my favorites and the movie was quite fun -- even for a gal who never read many comics that didn't involve Betty and Veronica. A few extra turns later, some helpful people showed us how to get out of the locked mall and we were on our way home.

I couldn't begin to tell you what time it was, but clearly, darkness and travel fatigue had set in. I toddled off to my luxurious king size bed and managed to sleep without the Boom.

Tell all your single friends, it just gets better.

XO, JamieSmitten