And away I go...

Well, here I am. Back by popular badgering. I'm actually happy to be back. I've missed blogging. Here's what I've recently discovered. ...sometimes, we just lose our voice. Not physically, though heaven knows I've done that often enough; but mentally and emotionally. So, for a while I lost my voice, but scratchy and hoarse though it is, here I am.

Interestingly enough, currently, "here" is sitting on an airplane bound for Las Vegas. Well...technically THIS airplane is bound for Houston. Once I am there, THEN I will board an airplane bound for Las Vegas. I am on my way to an exciting four day stay at The Mandalay Bay Resort and Hotel, where I will be attending a conference held by the National Association of Photoshop Professionals. (We're the people who manage to make your blemishes and laugh lines disappear after we take your picture. It is my experience that Photoshop is far superior to Clearasil when it comes to clearing up acne).

For those of you, who, upon hearing that I would be attending this conference alone, were rude enough to suggest that I was bound to have any number of disastrous misadventures, let me alleviate the suspense and tell you that I managed to have my first misadventure before even boarding the airplane.

I do not believe that this particular misadventure was my fault. I have two solid foundations upon which to base this theory. The first is that any packing of luggage done after midnight is automatically doomed to some sort of disastrous failure. Secondly, I blame Derek because he should have know better than to let me pack by myself without the benefit of him questioning me repeatedly as to whether I was doing it right or not.

Here is the frustrating part though. The part I just can't figure out. I am not a travel novice. I have traveled the world quite extensively and have been in a vast number of airports. Dare I say it? I am actually quite travel savvy. So please, one of you...tell me what could have possessed me to carefully pack my suitcase with all of the right stuff, and then with equal care and clevereness, fill my carry on with every deadly, terrorist related looking gel and liquid on the market. Yes...it's true. I'm pretty sure I'm on Homeland Security's watch list by now.

There I was...Jeannie had dropped me off at the airport at the stunningly inappropriate hour of 4:30 am to catch my 6:00 am flight. With all the flair of a seasoned traveler, I had checked in after having cleverly printed up my boarding pass night. I have even prepaid my baggage fee. Yes, the cheapskate, money grubbing airline charged me $23.00 for the one lousy bag that I brought with me.

I stopped off at the gift shop to purchase a new John Grisham novel because, as everyone who is travel savvy knows, you can't read a book from home on an airplane. It's just no good. You must read a brand new book, purchased at the airport specifically for the trip. Even if you plan on reading the Bible, you are really better off just buying a new one at the gift shop. You'll enjoy it more.

So there I was, ready to start my adventure. As a savvy traveler, I had even removed my shoes prior to getting into the boarding gate line. I knew the drill. I had my boarding pass at the ready along with my photo ID (drivers license, not military ID because the picture is way better).

I pulled out my laptop and dropped it into a gray plastic bin. My shoes, camera and iTouch went into another bin and my purse and carry-on went directly onto the conveyor belt. I was waved through the metal detector without incident and went to stand at the other end of the conveyor anticipating the arrival of my gear. Imagine my surprise when a light began flashing directly over the x-ray machine and a burly woman who surely does mixed martial arts looked directly at me and said in a clear, authoritative voice "M'am? Is this bag which is obviously filled with liquids and gels meant for nefarious purposes and/or terrorism yours?"

Okay, maybe those weren't her EXACT words, but I assure you, the implication was there in her voice and demeanor. I looked at her blankly. "Yeah, that's my bag". She gave me a suspicious look as though sizing me up. She was clearly trying to decide whether I was an exceedingly crafty and devilishly devious terrorist, or whether I was just really stupid. Sadly, at this point I must own up to the really stupid thing, but in my defense, it WAS 4:30 in the morning. I continued to stare blankly at her. She continued to stare back. "M'am, passengers are prohibited from carrying liquids and gels onto the airplane. Your case is full of liquids and gels". ..................Oh! There is twas! Understanding finally poked its weary head through the fog of early morning travel. Apparently too much of my extensive travel had been done pre 9/11. I have certainly flown often since then, but had apparently blanked out on all the rules in the wee hours of the morning. Depression settled on my sleepy brain at the realization that I hadn't even left the airport and I had already engaged in a "Leni event". All those people who had foretold this were going to gloat now, especially after I had indignantly and vehemently refuted their claims that "Leni" and "Misadventure" were practically synonymous.

My blank expression shifted from one of incomprehension to one of confused desperation. What was I supposed to do now, because throwing away about $300.00 worth of toiletries was simply not an option, not to mention the fact that, at the tender age of 49, I am no longer willing to be seen in public without all of the appropriate moisturizers and makeup.

The burly woman gave me a look which screamed "if I've got to deal with this ditz at four in the morning, clearly the rest of my day is really going to suck". Then she gave me her best "Wow, you really pulled a "Leni" look and said "You can either throw it away, or you can go back to the baggage counter and check it through".

Check it through! Yes! Here was a reasonable option. I flashed her a bright, friendly, non-terrorist smile and indicated that I would take the dangerous and offensive toiletries back to baggage and check them through, but that I needed to take a few things out first. As I reached for my stylishly retro, blue trimmed, black BeautiControl bag, she jerked her arm back as though I had just asked her to let me take the detonator out before I checked it through. "I'm sorry M'am; I'll have to keep this until I escort you out of the boarding area". I tried hard not to look dangerous and muttering my compliance, I shuffled meekly behind her to the exit.

Once out of the boarding area, I was released on my own recognizance. I checked the time and broke into a sprint when I realized that it was now only ten minutes until boarding time. Back at the baggage claim area, I waited for my turn with increasing agitation as I realized that the sky pirates were probably going to charge me an extra $35.00 for a second bag. Mustering what little civility I had left, I stepped to the counter and beamed apologetically at the agent. With dignity and aplomb I owned up to my early morning lapse in judgment and oozing a completely non-terrorist like sincerity, I queried whether it might be possible to retrieve my already checked bag so that I might add my bag of ingredie....er...toiletries to my already checked bag. In my head, I knew this was never going to happen. I was just not going to be that lucky and in addition, they were going to charge me an additional $100 suspicious character fee before allowing me to board the plane, so you can imagine my shock and delight when the simply adorable girl behind the counter smiled and said "sure, no problem"! Oddly enough, she hadn't seemed quite as adorable before she said that, but I really liked her a lot now.

Off she went to retrieve my bag which was blessedly and serendipitously under-packed. I waited, relieved that my trip would not be tainted by the resentful frustration of being forced to pay outrageous fees just so that I would have clean underwear and a moisturized face on my trip. I was starting to get concerned as minutes ticked by and entered the "missing my plane" zone.

Finally my new hero returned, breathless, with my bag. She piped up cheerfully, "I'm sorry that took so long, they had already loaded your bag onto the plane so I went out and got it"! My humor was restored! My misadventure resolved! All because a very sweet airline employee went out of her way to be helpful when she could just as easily have slapped me with a $35.00 baggage fee and went on with her day.

So to all of you out there gloating that I've proven you right about my inability to do anything without a disaster, I thank you for the bit of predestination. :-) I have decided to embrace my misadventures because it often seems that it's only through those that we can genuinely appreciate these sweet little victories in our lives!

To Shane and Arwen, thanks for egging me on. This is probably more detail than anyone could ever want to hear about a little thing like inadvertently trying to smuggle contraband onto an airplane, but the telling kept me busy for the whole flight!

I'll try my best to keep you up on any further adventures or misadventures that I might stumble upon.