The Wings Are Wide

Having planned my vacation time before I knew I was going to have a second job, I left everything until Monday night. Everything. Packing, making the frame for Karen and Steve’s gift, etc. (By the way, Karen and Steve, can you guys take a picture of the frame? I forgot, and my mom really wants to see how it turned out.)

I wound up crashing on the couch in the living room with all of my paper crafting stuff spread out on the coffee table and most of the lights on the house on. I woke up around 5:30am Tuesday and finished the rest of my packing chores. I went to work and lamented pretty much the whole day about not taking the day off from work in order to feel less rushed about the whole thing.

I had printed my itinerary out and folded it neatly and put it in my purse. I took it out at some point during the day to look at it again and got sidetracked by phone calls and forgot to put it back in my purse. I realized on my drive home that I had forgotten it on my desk so I called Kyle real quick to see if he was still at home and could print another copy off for me. He wasn’t and couldn’t. I figured it wasn’t a big deal because I’d have my passport for checking in and that should be enough.

I got home, rearranged my suitcase, filled my carryon, changed into my NaNoWriMo shirt (which means I’m even more silly for not thinking of that as The Writing Group website!). Kyle met me at my place because he had insisted on taking me to the airport. I was glad for it.

I finally had things packed up and I brought everything out to the living room and Kyle asked if I had grabbed a jacket. I hadn’t. So I ran back into my room and grabbed a hoodie “just in case.”

We drove down to the airport and things went pretty smoothly. I transferred the large piece of glass from my carryon to my checked baggage because I didn’t want them to make me get rid of it since it could easily be a weapon. I had it in the carryon first because I wanted to make sure it wouldn’t get broken in my checked suitcase. I figured I’d rather deal with it being broken than looking like an idiot in the security line.

Kyle and I parted ways and my hours upon hours of travelling officially started. I checked in, got my boarding pass but had to go to a different ticketing agent for some bizarre reason to get my baggage tags. No big deal. I went through security and could have sworn Al Franken was in line a few people back. I was wrong, but that guy seriously could have passed as his double or something. I almost took a picture of him, but figured that might be suspicious to the TSA Agents.

Once through security I tried to enjoy the airport as much as possible. I really like airports. I thought the below bit about the 1908 DNC was kind of interesting so I took a picture. The threat level at the airport was orange (high risk of terrorist attacks; this is just under red – severe risk) because of numerous things probably, but the Democratic National Convention happening in Denver shortly is a reason for sure.

(For those curious, it reads: One century ago, the Democratic Party held its political convention in Denver, nominating William Jennings Bryan as its presidential candidate. In 1908, the cost of a soda was 5 cents and the hotel room rate skyrocketed from $1 to $20. Times have changed. But, Denver is host once again, and is proud to stage only the second national political convention in the Rocky Mountain time zone.)

Waiting in the lounge by the gates always reminds me of Stephen King’s The Langoliers and I don’t even know why. I saw the miniseries once and don’t remember anything about it except that there’s a plane involved.

My flight started boarding pretty soon after I got to the gate. I ended up in the window seat (on all my flights, actually) with no one sitting next to me. That was nice. The plane left about 9:30pm Mountain Time. I slept most of the way.

When we got into Calgary I had my declarations form and passport ready. I knew I had to get my boarding passes still and the airport is set up so that there are ticketing stations before you go through customs, but evidently they don’t have anyone manning those at night. I didn’t think it was a big deal so I just followed the arrows through to customs.

The first guy I encountered seemed nice enough, I wasn’t worried at all as I handed him my passport and customs declaration.

“So what are you in Canada for?”
“A friend’s wedding.”
“Do you have the invitation?”

I was dumbfounded. Is that a Canadian thing? (I was assured with astounded stares later when I relayed the story that no, that was not a Canadian thing.)

“No I don’t have it with me.”
“How long have you known this friend?”
“Eight years.”
“And do you have a job in the States?”
“Yes.”
“What do you do?”
“I do customer service work for a 401k retirement plan record keeper in Colorado.”

He wrote something on my customs declaration and asked me to go through to immigration right behind him. I was starting to get nervous.

I walked through to Immigration which was cave-like with all the darkness and the girl, who was probably around my age or possibly early 30s called me forward. I walked to her station and handed her my customs declaration form and my passport. Thus began the third degree. I’m still not entirely sure if Ed’s third degree was worse or not.

What are you in Canada for? Do you have the invitation? Where are you headed ultimately? Do you have your boarding passes for your other flights? What are your other flights? Do you know your flights on the way back? When are you leaving? Have you ever been denied entrance to any country? Do you have a job in the states? What do you do? Do you intend on returning to work? When do you intend on returning to work? Do you have any money on you? Do you have any access to any money, like a debit or credit cards? How much do you have available to you? And how much will be deposited into your checking account tomorrow when you get paid? How long have you known this friend? What’s her name? What’s her fiances name? Do you have her phone number? How did you meet her? What’s the name of the site? Do you know anyone else who will be at the wedding? Where is the wedding being held? And you’re staying with your friend that you’ve never met before? Do you think that’s a good idea?

That was when she pulled up Open Diary on her computer screen and turned it around for me to log in and show her proof of this mysterious internet wedding. I pulled up Karen’s entry where she had a nice table listed for the activities on Thursday. Customs Lady was impressed with her organization. I asked if I could log in to the Air Canada website and pull up my itinerary. She allowed me to and as soon as she saw it let me go.

So much for not needing my itinerary, eh?

(That wasn’t me trying to mock that particular stereotype of Canadians, even if my first real face-to-face encounter with them was much, much less than welcoming. Also, the order of those questions might not be accurate and I may have forgotten a few.)

Victory!

(Looking more closely at that, does the writing beneath indicate that it’s valid for six months, until January 28, 2009??)

I wandered around and found an Air Canada ticketing agent who was so incredibly helpful in comparison that I wanted to hug her. I found my gate and didn’t have to wait too long and tried not to seethe with anger and rage about being interrogated so heavily.

(My story hasn’t even followed me to a different time zone yet and I’m already feeling incredibly verbose compared to some of the other entries so far. Oops.)

The rest of my flights were somewhat uneventful minus the delay due to fog in St. John’s. I slept almost the entire way to Montreal and then again almost the entire way to St. John’s, so it’s really all a blur.

And then I saw Karen waving to me and Steve standing next to her. If it weren’t for the damn stairs I would have run to her for a great big hug, I think. But I don’t trust my balance on stairs as it is, let alone when I’ve been deprived of good sleep and am still trying to squash feelings of rage toward Customs Lady.

My suitcase came pretty quickly and off we went down the highway to Karen’s. It was awesome seeing her and Steve together. There’s always that bit of energy between two people in a loving relationship that you can’t see or really get a true sense of no matter how many fantastic pictures are posted in OD or great things are said. It was pretty neat.

Once we got to her parent’s house, I got mauled by Bailey (in a friendly way) and her mom offered me tea. Karen borrowed her parent’s cell phone and she showed me to my room. We sat chatting a bit while she put numbers from Steve’s phone to the other. It was fun.

I helped put together some favor bags and gave her the ones I had brought from my Michaels store. Originally, Karen was going to get the Ontario 3 while I stayed at the house and either napped or worked on more favor bags but she changed her mind and I went with her to pick up Shar, Robyn and Missy. I think she was trying to protect me from her mother. 😉

When we got back to the airport, I recognized Robyn first because of her hair and Karen recognized Missy and so we gathered around and waited for their bags. I grabbed some money from the ATM which I had failed to do when my flight came in earlier and then we piled into the car and were off through downtown and rush hour to drop the Ontario 3 off at their hotel.

Karen and I went back to her place and I showered really quick to get all the travel grime off and then once she figured out what she was going to wear to the stagette we went back to the hotel to get the Ontario 3 and then went to the liquor store and then to Heather’s for the party.

Details of the Most Awesome Bachelorette Party Ever will be in the next entry. If you are offended by penises, alcohol or sugary sweets, you should skip it.