Day 2 of West Coast Trip (Part A)

"It's cold in here!"

I slowly roused up, only to find that my cellular phone read 05:55. As I was sleeping on the top bunk with only a foot and a quarter of space to the ceiling, I slowly flipped myself around so as to avoid bumping my shoulder or hip on the ceiling and causing some unforeseen severe internal bleeding. When I successfully turned my torso to face the cabin instead of the wall, I hung my head over my bed to find my father wide awake with one of the curtains open. I asked, "What?"

"It's really cold!"

"You woke me up just to tell me that?"

"I think we're in the mountains."

Still in disbelief that my father actually woke me up to tell me it's cold, especially when his second blanket was tossed aside, I sheepishly responded, "If it's cold, why don't you cover yourself with the second blanket?" Then I tried to return to sleep. But then curiosity got the better of me. And of course, it didn't help with the curtains open either. So I fired up Google Maps on my Nokia N95. Within seconds, I got a triangulated fix on my location on the map, and surely enough, we were passing through Mt. Shasta, a little bit south of the California and Oregon border. I dipped my head to look out the window, and I saw a beautiful creek with snow-covered rocks. But like a groundhog, the sight disappeared behind the trees by the time you turned on the camera.

And of course, when you thought it was impossible, the scenic view of the creek returns the moment you shut off the camera. Urgh!!!

I tired to go back to sleep again, and my dad mumbled something. I tossed and turned, and finally looked down and said, "You know what, since there are only two of us, I don't know why you're talking but I have to assume you're talking to me, and you're keeping me awake. I might as well wake up, even if I only had four hours of sleep."

After putzing around in the stateroom and getting it prepared so that it is habitable by sitting passengers, I finally got my father to change into regular clothes. But because the Dining car did not take reservations for breakfast, we walked down there to put our name of the waiting list. But it didn't take long for us to get seated anyway, so we found ourselves having breakfast with two lovely girls.

Knowing my father doesn't have any inclination towards French toast, cold cereal or omelets, I went with the safer route by ordering scrambled eggs. I knew he loves scrambled eggs and I definitely knew that I love scrambled eggs too. But with all that anticipation, we were quickly let down when I found out that the scrambled "eggs" were nothing more than powdered eggs mixed with water and left to steam. Yuck. And the weirdest part of all? The croissants had an round bottom that stuck out by about an eight of an inch, as if the chef had mistakenly baked them in some kind of a cupcake pan!!! At least the croissants were tasty.

Then for some odd reason, the girls and I began talking politics. This time, I wasn't really bashing Republicans. I simply mentioned that we should never trust conservative Republicans, as they are typically the most hypocritical of them all. And so thus began the whole political discussion. I noticed that in all of my conversations, I always tend to talk about human excrements, human anatomy, or politics. Weird... Thankfully, that political discussion ended quickly when we started going along the Upper Klamath Lake. We had overheard someone who rode this route several times mention that if you looked real hard, you might catch the Klamath Falls. But when I pulled up my Google Maps, I was quickly disappointed that we would not see Klamath Falls, because by the time that experienced Coast Starlight rider mentioned it a few yards away from us, we had already passed it.

Despite having a built-in shower in our stateroom, my father had long declared that he would not shower for two days, instead opting to shower by the time we get to our hotel in Seattle. I agreed with him yesterday morning when I saw how small the combination lavatory and shower was, but this morning, for one reason or another, I changed my mind. Maybe it was due lack of sleep, or sheer rebellion in me, I decided that the full Amtrak experience can only be had if I take a shower in this tiny two and a half feet by one foot square space. After all, we paid for this upgraded room, so why not use the amenities we paid for, right?

Let me keep this paragraph short. I had the hardest time taking a dump and a shower (not necessarily at the same time) in that tiny combination lavatory/shower. I can't imagine girls taking a shower and having to shave their legs, because the moment you bend down, you smash your head against either one of the three walls or the door. If you instinctively switched lifting your leg up instead, you would end up banging your knees. And add to all that complexity, you have to deal with holding the shower head, lathering yourself, and hold onto something to keep you from tipping over!

But in the end, yours truly prevailed. I stepped out of the lavatory feeling mostly refreshed, followed by a good teeth brushing. Ah... Now I was ready to tackle the Lounge car and take in the scenery. I saw Odell Lake, the rocks, then Lowell Lake right before getting to Eugene. My goodness, Lowell Lake is huge! And filled with party revelers. I saw many boaters out there having a good ol' time.

It didn't take long before it was lunch time. If I had known that the lunch and dinner menu would be the same every day, I would not have made lunch reservation at the Dining car. I tried to see if I can squeeze ourselves into the more upscale Lounge car dining, but we were promptly greeted with disappointment that it had been booked full already. So back to the Dining car we marched. I really did not want to eat another cold turkey with gravy, or another burger, since my father and I switched plates yesterday. So my father got the angus beef burger, while I got the yucky tuna salad. I'd much rather have yucky than a repeat.

Because the Coast Starlight was unusually on time, a fact I learned from all the crew members, the wine tasting event today would be started earlier, followed by similarly earlier dinner in anticipation of arriving in Seattle slightly early. But this time around, the company wasn't as great, and there was a self-proclaimed wine snob who clearly didn't know what he was talking about. Although he may be construed as annoying, at least he was flamboyantly gay and full of character. Believe it or not, he livened up the crowd. But before he could finish the second tasting of wine, he promptly ran off to the theatre room below to catch The Wizard of Oz. Again. Only because I knew he made a scene with the kids yesterday afternoon exclaiming how much he loved The Wizard of Oz and ran downstairs in similar fashion.

Unfortunately, not only was today's wine tasting not as fun in terms of company, but the wine selection was not as good either. I'm not quite sure why, but I suspect the fact that I was getting pours of half the glass, unlike yesterday when I had pours that filled almost to the brim, may have something to do with it. Regardless, I had the following wines... Hogue Cellars Chardonnay from Columbia Valley in Washington, bottled in 2006. This was one of the driest white wines I've ever had, and the sweetest Chardonnay too. I didn't like it. Next up was the Snoqualmie Whistle Stop Red 2006, also from Columbia Valley. It was a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot, and it tasted pretty decent. Unfortunately, it was way too fruity for my liking, especially when two of my favorite red wines are concerned. This was followed by yet another red, the Columbia Crest Shiraz Grand Estates, also from the state of Washington in the Columbia Valley. Now, this one I loved. I know Shiraz is one of my favorite types of wine, but even if I did not know it was a Shiraz, my taste buds would have told me that it was extremely agreeable. And I asked for "another" tasting, which Scott happily obliged.

Before we could conclude our wine tasting event, we pulled into the Portland station. At first I didn't think it was Portland, considering the grisly sight that welcomed us. Then I saw a junk car shop with a blazing sign that read "Portland Auto Repair Shop." Damn... I thought Portland was supposed to be this beautiful town much similar to Seattle. But I suppose I have to give the Board of Tourism kudos for doing a good job painting a picturesque view of the entire city. But one thing was for sure though... The light rail and bountiful bicycle paths were clearly visible throughout the city, even from the station all the way through the city as we pulled away.

Finally, the last wine was nothing to write home about. It was a Rieslings from Columbia Winery, located in Yakima Valley which is also located in the state of Washington. Again, like yesterday's Riesling , it was super sweet and didn't taste like wine. At least I didn't drink it like wine. I didn't finish that, instead opting to save the last flavor to stimulate my palate with the second glass of the Columbia Crest Shiraz Grand Estates. And mmm... I've been milking that baby out for the last hour and a half while sitting up here on the Lounge car writing this blog at this very moment.

I tried to get my father to come join me in enjoying the beautiful scenery touted by many as beautiful between Portland and Seattle, but unfortunately he fell asleep. So I thought it best to let him rest, despite having a momentary lapse in temptation to wake him up by proclaiming out of the blue, "Wow, it's cold in here." Instead, I am enjoying the view by myself. The weather for sure is much akin to Seattle, with constant gray haze overcast. That's not to say that this is the only kind of weather that prevails in Seattle or Portland, but more like the popular notion that many people hold in their mind as the only weather that exists.

Well, I must stop now, as it is only twenty minutes till our dinner reservation at the Lounge car dining room. Mmm... Scallops... At least I won't be having a repeat dinner like yesterday...

Day 1 of West Coast Trip (Part B)

Uhm... Yeah... Wine tasting drinking. Yum... And that took up most of my afternoon. Who could possibly refuse to partake in tasting drinking two glasses of red wine and another two of white wine for five mere dollars? To top it all off, they threw in cheese and crackers!!! While in the Parlour car participating in the wine tasting, I sat across from a nice couple from Oregon. Kind of like hippies. But they were really nice and fun to talk with. Especially during wine tasting. I mean, drinking. There is absolutely nothing better than drinking wine with a has-been hippie couple while discussing politics. Lucky for all parties involved, we all bashed the conservative rights. We talked so much crap about the Republicans that some dude who was sitting next to us had to get up and leave. We didn't want to sit by Republicans anyway. ;-)

The wine tasting is interesting in the fact that the conductor selected specific wine from regions that the Coast Starlight passes through. Not only did we get to see the beautiful scenery of the California Coast, we also got to complement our visual sense of natural beauty with the taste of the land we saw. We started out with a glass of white from the Santa Barbara County, which was featured prominently in the movie Sideways. It is called the Taz Pnot Gris, bottled in 2006. For someone who generally doesn't like white wines, this was actually pretty good. Only because it carried strong hints of lemon, lime and other spices. The next one was the Estancia Pinot Noir from Pinnacles Ranches Monterey County. I didn't get a chance to hear the conductor slash wine enthusiast talk about the wine because I went back to my state room to check on my father who was taking a nap. But all I know is that it was bottled in 2006, and this type of wine is considered the "holy grail" of red wines, only because it is the hardest grape to grow. Although it carried a price tag of $25 per bottle, I didn't like how it had hints of cherry and flower.

Next up was the Greg Norman Petite Sirah from Paso Robles, again from California. No surprise here, considering the Coast Starlight only goes through three states: California, Oregon and Washington. And I don't suppose Oregon is exactly well-known for its wines. And I suspect that the second day of the journey will include wine from the state of Washington. Anyway, I have never liked any of the wines from Greg Norman the golfer's vineyard in the past, but I admit that this was one of the best Shiraz-type wines I've ever had. Maybe it's the grape, maybe it was the aromatic hints of blackberries that sweetened the wine. Nonetheless, it was good enough that I bought a whole bottle after wine tasting.

The final wine was a Riesling from Monterey County, called the Jekel Riesling bottled in 2006. I don't care if Riesling is the most popular white wine with phenomenal growing demand all over, I don't care so much for it. Riesling tastes too much like white grape juice with no alcohol, which often leads me into drinking too much of it too fast. And the inevitable would happen: getting smashed a good hour later. But this Riesling provided for the wine tasting was crappy anyway that I didn't bother to finish the glass. Instead, I opened the bottle of Greg Norman Petite Sirah instead. And fortunately, it was just in perfect timing as my dad woke up and joined me at the Parlour car, so I served him a glass. And I was able to pawn off the conversation with the hippies to my father while I go and take pictures.

Suddenly, all the good times had to come to an end. It was dinner time, and we had to go to the Diner car. With an opened bottle of wine in hand and a good buzz going on, we sat down salivating over the featured menu item: flat iron steak. I knew this meal would redeem Amtrak in my father's mind, considering after he disliked the turkey and gravy earlier in the day. And boy, was I right. The steak was good. The only issue I had was that my steak came out medium well when I had asked for medium. Our server promptly took care of the situation, although I secretly wished she would have left my half eaten steak on the table just so I have something to nibble on while I waited for another steak.

During dinner time, we went through Salinas, a city known as the agricultural capital of California. Any produce you see in your local grocery store, be it in Chicago, Kansas City, New York City or New Orleans, chances are you'll find at least five different vegetables that were produced at and shipped from Salinas, California. For miles and miles and miles, all we could see was acres upon acres of farm land with so many different kinds of vegetables. You name it, I probably can say I saw it. =)

Before long, nightfall came upon us. As the scenery began to dwindle into the dark, I decided to head to the lower level of the Parlour car to catch National Treasure on the big screen. I was thrilled to be in a tiny movie theatre in moving train. Half way through the movie, some kind came downstairs to exclaiming that we could see fireworks passing by. I tried to look, but it was futile, as the fireworks were mostly set off by individuals, and not quite exactly spectacular, especially when you see it once and within a second it disappears because the train was blowing by too fast. So I returned my concentration on the large forehead on Nicolas Cage's head and his expressionless large eyes of his. I honestly think he only has one expression, much like Tom Cruise. But nonetheless, the movie was still fun to watch.

With the movie nearly at its conclusion, we pulled into Emeryville, a station that serves Oakland and San Francisco. We could see tons of traffic along the road, as it was apparent that the big fireworks show must have just ended and everybody was trying to get out. Apparently the Emeryville station is in a nice part of town with many things to do, as the area was called the Jack London Square. Nice condos, lots of shopping, a variety of bars, and a hot singles scene. Too bad I'm old now. And furthermore, too bad I couldn't get off the train to have a pint.

After we caught the last three minutes of the movie, I retired to my stateroom, only to find out that I became a glorified secretary. My father wanted to me to transcribe a letter for him, and it took longer than his estimation of "just twenty minutes." When the transcribing was done, it was time to polish up the letter. But with my father's constant nagging and questioning whether or not I'm doing it right per his intentions, I grabbed the half full bottle of the Greg Norman Petite Sirah and headed out to the Parlour car.

When I got to the Parlour car, there was only a couple there finishing up their nightcaps. As I sat down with my drink, I let out a sigh of relief and relaxation, before I began tackling on my father's letter. An hour and a glass of wine later, I returned to the stateroom and gave my father the revised letter on my laptop. Before he even started reading it, he already began nagging me about my inability to write good business letters. I just ignored him, and soon enough, he realized that the letter was really good. I asked him what he thought, and he said, "Not bad." I asked again, saying "not bad is just that, not bad, but not good either; are you sure?" He chuckled and finally admitted that he really liked it. Of course, it was subject to fine tuning, because there were a few lost-in-translation moments, as I didn't quite understand his Chinese words.

Finally, I was able to go to bed. Tried as I may, I had to sleep through my dad's constant snoring. Funny how before we turned out the lights, my dad wanted to get a heads up from me to see how loud or often I snored. And I was the one who got woken up at two in the morning. Out of spite, I whipped out my Nokia N95 and recorded a good two minute audio clip of his wondrous sound of music.

You know, purely for the sake of archival or evidentiary purposes. =)

Day 1 of West Coast Trip (Part A)

[This entry updated at the San Luis Obispo stop, where 3G service is available on the AT&T network...]

After just a few hours of sleep on Thursday night, the alarm clocks on both my cellular phones rang. It's time to get ready! Having lived in the United States for 12 years, I have experienced the Greyhound, modern airline and the all-Americana road trips. But in all those years, I have never had the experience of taking one of the oldest celebrated forms of transportation that started the Industrial Revolution: the railway. And here I am, in the Lounge car of the Coast Starlight, taking in the scenery of the wild west (or I'd like to think so), and enjoying such natural beauty.

The first piece of marvel we got to see was the Los Angeles Union Station. Although smaller than some of the other Union Stations I've ever visited such as the Kansas City or Chicago, it definitely was different. Instead of tall, arched ceilings with the familiar echoey (yes, I just made that word up) white noise, it is tall and angular made of wooden beams styled after the southwestern mission architecture. After boarding the Coast Starlight #14, we enjoyed the beautiful scenery of inner Los Angeles, where beautiful worn houses were adored by neon-colored decorations, presumably left behind by rival gangs of Los Angeles. Ah, nothing beats such inner city gang scenery while enjoying the complimentary Champaign. Of course, I had to ask for the complimentary orange juice to turn it into a mimosa, but it was only fitting because it is still morning...

Otherwise, the scenery definitely picked itself up after we headed out west to Oxnard where we started turning north to go up the coast. For the longest time, we saw miles of beautiful beaches, all untainted by crowds the like of Santa Monica or Valentia beaches. As we choo-choo'ed alongside the Pacific Coast Highway, we saw numerous cliff-ends, fishing piers, and RV campgrounds filled with people who had driven there for the Fourth of July weekend.

But one thing I didn't like was the numerous off shore oil rigs out in the beautiful ocean. There was at least three you can see in the horizon, and they were never ending. For a good hour, you see an oil rig out there. And Dubya wants to allow more OCS in our seas? Hell no!!! Destroying picturesque scenery with such environmentally dangerous machines that will at best alleviate five cents per gallon (in today's demand) but won't be able to start producing any oil for 10 years, I think that is not the way to go.

Given that we had bought first class tickets in the Sleeper car, where our room included convertible beds, a sink and a combination shower/toilet, we had full access to the exclusive Parlour Lounge, where glass windows go from the side up to the ceiling, enabling us to have better view of the west coast along the way. We saw many agricultural fields, such as rice patties, cabbage fields, flower fields (now I know that the flowers I bought every Valentine's Day were probably shipped from California), orange groves, and cattle ranges. This is definitely the part of America that I never got to see, despite knowing they existed.

Then 12:30 arrived, with our lunch reservation at the Dining car. My father and I shared a table with a lovely couple named Ray and Tamara. Given the limited choice of food available to us in the inclusive meal, I had a tough time deciding what to order for Dad. I knew he wouldn't like the Tuna Salad sandwich, and probably the create-your-own burger was not as appetizing for an old-fashioned Chinese with distinctive palate, I thought maybe he would enjoy the traditional turkey and gravy over biscuits. But when it came, it was of the cold variety, not the warm type you and I are accustomed to in those dinky diners or during Thanksgiving dinners when economic times are down. My dad gladly ate my turkey burger instead. I guess when all foods are not appealing, there is at least one that is the least unappealing that will satiate the appetite.

After a good and lengthy chat with our lunch buddies, we decided to go lounge in the Lounge Car. We promptly passed the Tasmania country, where we spotted a coyote out in the fields. If you asked me, it looked like an oversized German Sheppard, or an oversized wolf. But as the conductor has worked this route for years on end, I kind of believed him. We also saw many abandoned oil rigs, like the ones you see in movies set in Texas.

Oh wait... It's almost 15:30, so it's about time for wine tasting. For $5, I get to enjoy the different kinds of wine found along the route from California to the state of Washington. So I better a break here from blogging, and really enjoy the scenery while getting lit. =)

I Pity The Girls

Well, today had been a day like no other. After two weeks of grueling hell at work, I am finally embarking on a westward journey towards regaining my sanity Or at least that's the hope. With gifts in tow, I am finally getting to see my brand new niece, who was born on June 1. The week and a half ahead is going to be hectic and stressful, I'm sure. But it is definitely going to be a welcoming stress, unlike the stress induced by my workplace of late.

Because I was unable to secure any reasonable fared flight the day before Independence Day, I was forced into flying out tonight instead. So I'll be working remotely from Los Angeles tomorrow. So let's see how many times do I have to recharge my cellular battery during the whole course of the day. After the work day, I am hoping that I'll get to enjoy dinner with my parents, who had flown over to the United States to celebrate their first grandchild in their lives.

The fun begins on Friday morning, when I take my father on the Coast Starlight, an Amtrak train that links the entire western coast between Los Angeles and Seattle. Supposedly, it has been billed by most fanatical train travelers as one of the top 10 train routes in the world, mostly for its scenery. Really, the scenery is best when traveling southbound, but I heard from others that northbound is just as great. I suppose it has something to do with the time of day when the train passes certain parts of the coast.

After we arrive in Seattle late Saturday evening, we'll be relaxing at the Homewood Suites in downtown Seattle, an abode I have frequently rested my weary soul when I had my long term assignment earlier in my career. I'm not quite sure what Sunday morning will bring after a good night's rest, but I do know that I'll be taking my father to the Mariners' game on Sunday. As typical Asians that we are, I'm sure food will be a priority before the 13:00 game, as well as afterwards.

On Monday, we'll be taking a long car ride north to catch a ferry to Orcas Island. I have already reserved a few seats on the Orcas Express, which will take us on a whale watching tour. I'm hoping that we'll get to see much of the wildlife, and this is something I'm especially excited about, because I have not done this myself. Because the drive itself is going to be in the hours, the whole day will be spent on this little trip. But on the way back, I'm sure I'll stop by Facing East in Bellevue for some delicious, authentic Taiwanese food.

Before heading for the airport on Tuesday, I'm going to take my father on a short little hike towards the iconic Space Needle. If time permits, probably ride the Emerald City's claim to international fame, the aging monorail. And probably show him the fish market too. After all that fun, we'll be flying down to Las Vegas and checking in at the Bellagio.

Then Wednesday will just continue the travel madness with an bright and early trip to the Grand Canyon west rim, with a stop at the Hoover Dam, a past symbol of American prosperity and power, followed by a trip to the Skywalk. We'll also have a helicopter ride that will take us down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, and take a boat ride up and down the Colorado River, before taking the bus back to the Bellagio. All that will take up the entire 11 hours of the day.

But it doesn't end there. We also have tickets to the Cirque du Soleil "O" show at 22:30 later that evening! Yeah, it's crazy, isn't it? I just hope my father have the energy to do all that. As all good things must come to an end, we will flying back to Los Angeles the next day. This will definitely be a welcome reprieve, when I rejoin my sister and mother to coo at Savannah, my niece. Of course, like all Asian families, when things such as family get together become rare, we absolutely must have a family portrait taken. I can't wait to see the results of this.

So as I sit high above in the sky in a steel tube called the Southwest Airlines Boeing 737, I'm thinking ahead of this trip. And here is the unusual part of my day; I apologize for the seven paragraph digression. In all of my travels in the past seven years, I have never ever gotten to the airport with ample time to spare. My time has always been a treasure, so I try to cut it close as much as possible so I don't spend too much time on the road and away from my friends or condo. Of course, the exception has always been when flying on international flights, and that is only because security procedures are different, and the boarding time is significantly longer than on domestic flights when planes are typically smaller.

I actually made it to Midway today with two hours to spare!

Well, don't start emailing me with words of congratulations or anything like that yet. I have to admit that the reason why I arrived early was definitely not by design or forethought. I honestly thought that my flight departs at 19:05. When I finally read my boarding pass, I realized that it was actually 19:50. Oops!

But the evening just got weirder. While waiting at the gate on a rocking chair beside a wall receptacle, a stunning woman walked past me. Of course, seeing stunning girls at airports is nothing new, but I think she is one of the tenants who bought a condo in my building. I wanted to stop her in her tracks and say hi, but I was on the cellular phone unfortunately.

And the final thing that's weird today? As I sit in the second row at the forward galley of the plane, I'm observing the party of four taking up the first row on both sides of the aisle ahead of me. It's a father, a son, and two younger daughters. The sad part is that each and every one of them, father included, had their own little gadget. Everybody has an iPod. Everybody has some kind of a portable gaming system. The boy's got the Playstation Personal, the middle girl's got the Nintendo DS, and the youngest one's got some hot pink gaming system, presumably a cheapo.

Anyway, the boy is always messing with the younger ones. And he is definitely a boy with no manners. He demands things from the flight attendant, and it bothers me slightly that she just sits there and take his crap in like a person of servitude. But what bothered me the most was when he got up to use the lavatory. Not even a full minute had passed before he emerges from it and returns to his seat without shutting the door, leaving us passengers in the front to enjoy a nice shit and piss stink in the air. At first I thought he only needed to check something, like young curious boys typically do. But when it was my turn to go use the lavatory, I was greeted with a big pool of stinky, yellow pee staring right back at me!

That dirty mofo not only failed to flush the toilet, but he obviously failed to wash his hands on top of shutting the door! And the dad is not slightly fazed by all this. I had to tap the boy in the shoulder to ask him to shut the door earlier!

And as he sits there, he continues to mess with his sister, like blocking the screen to her gaming system, or nudging her in the face, or sneezing into his hands and wiping the snot all over her, or something. And all I can think of is that he's smearing his sweaty, stinky penis juice all over his sisters!!! That is just not cool. I don't even want to know how they're like at home. Kind of reminded me of this kid who likes to dig his fingers into his ass through his pants and shove it into my face to make me gag when I was growing up. And the worst part of it all? I couldn't do anything about it because he was the son of my father's boss!

I hate disgusting boys... And so, I pity the girls...

Another Reason Why I Hate American Airlines

In my seven years of traveling professionally, I have come to loath United Airlines for various reasons. It seemed like an overwhelming majority of the flight attendants on United Airlines were downright mean spirited and had piss poor attitude. Not only did they publicly display how much they hate their job, and how they don't care for what they do, they also treat passengers like people who got in their way of completing their crossword puzzles and catching up on celebrity gossip. On top of that, they roll their eyes if you ask for another cup of water, as if four ounces was considered way too much for any passenger on a four hour flight.

I avoided United Airlines as much as I could in those seven years. If I could help it, I would always fly Southwest Airlines. Besides a few rotten apples in their flight attendant squadron (which I encountered perhaps once every 15 flights), the overall experience has been phenomenally awesome. And if business dictated a trip to a location where Southwest Airlines did not fly to, I would try to fly either Northwest Airlines or Continental Airlines. Third on the preference list was American Airlines.

Well, after the wonderful encounter on February 20 with an American Airlines flight attendant, I began to wonder if her personality was morphed due to the morale at work. But today, I think my suspicion is correct. Her racist and demeaning attitude was not only a reflection of herself, but a reflection of the workplace environment too. Just ask Carine Desir. All she wanted was oxygen in time of medical need, yet the American Airlines flight attendant refused her request twice. The flight attendant only decided to provide oxygen after other passengers became agitated at him/her. And to put the cherry on the top, the flight attendant gave Carine two empty canisters of oxygen!!!

Right...... I will not fly American Airlines ever, if I can help it, because A) the odds of having rude flight attendants on board is probably pretty high, and B) they don't have functional safety equipment on board!!! Nice... Real nice... I hope the FAA and NTSB get on AMR like white on rice.

Hard to Say Goodbye

As I write this blog entry on my final flight home from a business trip, I looked back at the achievements that I had accomplished and the life experiences that I had gone through just in the last four months at Boeing. Sure, I may have sarcastically joked at how I hated traveling to Seattle, but truth be told, Boeing has been one of my favorite clients in a long time.

I flew in for just a day and half because not only did I have to return my Boeing issued property such as the laptop assigned to me, but I also had to run a meeting to transfer my knowledge on an otherwise huge side project that I had been tasked to do. They thought I would see through that side project till final implementation, but unfortunately (for Boeing), a better opportunity presented itself to me.

First of all, I hit the ground running at Boeing when I first arrived in September of 2007. Within a matter of weeks, I impressed the client so much that director's manager gave me one of the highest performance awards Boeing has, the Boeing Pride Award. Better still, I was not even a Boeing employee!

In the relatively short four months I was in Seattle, I was able to hang out with my college buddy Elle and her boyfriend almost once a week. I met and dated Traci briefly, and made a new friend Danielle. To add to my ego boost, I did so well at Boeing that they did not hesitate to sign an extension contract with IBM that would have kept me at Boeing through the next three quarters! I was really looking forward to that, because it meant more skiing opportunities at Whistler for me, and plenty of time to hang out with my friends Elle and Changren.

Of course, as we all know, I recently accepted a new job that will keep me afoot in Chicago. And during the conclusion of the meeting I ran today, I had such great feedback from my clients. All the hard work and sweat paid off. All those kind words were so positive that I wanted to cry. There was no doubt in my mind that had the new opportunity not arise, my stint at Boeing would have elevated my career. (Read promotion.)

As I turned over the Boeing property and spoke with the client director for the last time, I was at a loss for words other than simple thank you's. I have never been too good with saying goodbyes, especially after forming a special relationship with a client. I'm so going to miss Boeing.

Of course, once I receive my new iPod Shuffle in the mail, I will have a kind reminder of Boeing every time I use it. Because one of my wrap-ups was to redeem the points I received as a result of the Boeing Pride Award, and in doing so, I was shocked to realize how much 100 points were worth! About $100!!! If I had known it was worth that much, I would have redeemed it a long time ago! I thought 100 points were only worth a pen and pencil set, or some golf tees, or whatnot.

Thanks, Boeing, for the opportunities and memories!!!

Hotel a la Carte

For some odd reason, the Hilton Seattle no longer has the IBM negotiated rate in 2008. Instead of the usual suspects of hotels that usually pop up in the IBM online travel reservation tool, I was presented with a whole set of unfamiliar new hotels! The Hotel Vintage Park by Kimpton looked interesting, because it looked like a nice and classic hotel with rich interior decors. Plus, the website did a good job selling that property that I was won over. So I booked my stay at the Hotel Vintage Park.

When I arrived, I was quickly under whelmed. The room was tiny. And worst of all, the lobby could not provide me with complimentary toothpaste like most other hotel chains such as the Hilton or Marriott! Instead, I was forced to go through this basket filled with bottled waters, snacks, candies, a DVD about the state of Washington, and other miscellaneous junk. This basket contained a small, travel-sized package of toothpaste. I looked at the basket price list, which was separate from the mini-bar price list, and was shocked to see that I would be charged four freaking dollars for a toothpaste that was probably expired!

Bastards!

At first, I didn't deduct many points off of my personal review of this hotel. I was still relatively impressed, given the rich linens used in the bedding, and the interior décor. I thought it was rather neat at how they made the hotel room all romantic. The entire hotel had a wine theme, and each room was given a Washington winery name on top of the usual room numbers. I thought that was cute. And plus, I have read online that the hotel is good for romantic getaways and couples.

Then I kind of got a little nauseated later on. I noticed that perhaps the hotel was a bit too romantic. I mean, I'm on a business trip, and I expected the IBM negotiated hotels to be more on the professional side instead of romantic. All along the wall next to the bed was a giant mirror, extending the entire length of the king size bed. All the décor had red color as its central theme. And in the closet hung a couple soft and supple bathrobes with leopard prints.

LEOPARD PRINTS!!!

And to make things all the more kinky, I saw in the aforementioned basket price list an item costing $14 called, "Intimacy Kit." When I saw that, I quickly stared at the bed, and hoped that the linen was super cleaned with no remnants of any human DNA left. This would be my turning point in my personal review of this property from good to bad.

Then, as nature would have it, nature called. I went to the bathroom, and at first glance, things looked fine. But perched atop the toilet flush tank cover was yet another price list. Holy shit! Apparently, they charge you for almost every single thing, including the cotton swabs that are typically complimentary at most other hotels!

When I had finished dropping the kids off at the pool, I turned towards the toilet paper. Right before I tore off some squares, I made sure that there was no rolling counter installed on the toilet paper dispenser, as well as double-checking the bathroom price list to ensure that I wouldn't be charged extra for each sheet of luxury toilet paper.

Thank goodness the toilet paper was free. I have never, ever stayed in such an a la carte hotel that nickel and dime'd its guests! One thing was for sure though. I will never again stay at another Kimpton hotel ever again. Not even for my future honeymoon, if God willing.

My Crooked Back

After waking up hung over on New Year's Day, I promptly went home to check my work email. I didn't get an email response from my client instructing me not to come to Seattle, so I quickly booked a flight out that night as well as a hotel reservation. I was pretty sure I was done with traveling, but I guess this will be my absolute last trip.

Given the fact that it was already 15:30, and my booked flight was to depart at 20:00, I quickly showered and did laundry. I was down on the wire when it came to clean underwear, because I was on the last clean pair. After running around like a headless chicken, I finally managed to leave my house with enough time to swing by Maria's place to pick up some yummy dinner she had prepared and drop off the second Nintendo Wii that my sister decided not to get.

As it had been snowing all day and night of New Year's Eve, as well as through the entire New Year's Day, it didn't occur to me that flights might be affected. By the time I got to Midway International, I discovered that my flight's departure time was delayed from 20:00 to 21:20. Ugh!

And of course, I wasn't prepared for the massive crowd that awaited me at the security lines. Aside from the fact that I was tired and hung over from New Year's Eve celebration, I also had not been traveling for about a month, which made me rather rusty. And on top of that, I didn't think people would be traveling on New Year's Day. I only had to fly on that day because I had business to tend to for work.

Through all the madness, I finally got to the security checkpoint. If there is one thing I have to complain about having Boeing as my client, it would have to be the fact that I had to carry a Boeing issued laptop with me. That typically meant that in addition to my laptop bag and a carry-on roller bag, I also needed three baskets: one for my shoes and coat, one for my IBM issued laptop, and another one for my Boeing laptop. It certainly slowed me down when it comes to effortless and smooth transition in the security checkpoint.

After all that hassle, I finally collected my personal artifacts at the other side of the security checkpoint, while laughing at the woman still in line who was ahead of me, because she had way too many things. I thought she had bottomless pockets in her coat and jeans! As I walked away, I quickly realized that I had accidentally left the dinner Maria had prepared for me on the unsecured side of the checkpoint!

DAMN!!!

As there were still plenty of time left before I would have to board my flight, I thought I could make a last ditch effort to see if any of the fine TSA security agents had my dinner in custody. As luck would have it, a very courteous and nice TSA agent (shocker!) on the secured side of the checkpoint was carrying the bag of dinner, and was about to inspect to make sure it wasn't a "suspicious" package left by some terrorists. I recognized the bag immediately, and begged if I could have my dinner. I was hoping he wouldn't have to use his dirty little paws to go through my dinner. I mean, who knew where his hands had been. For all I know, he could have been using them all day to perform full body cavity search on suspicious passengers!!!

After finishing my sandwich, which I had requested Maria to pack, I was shocked to see that she had included a second plate. I thought it was more of the pepperoni pockets that Amy R had made for the party, so I tore at it. But when I peeled back the aluminum foil, I saw a whole personal size strawberry tart pie! Damn! Maria is the best!

So far, my final business trip started out badly with the horrible delay, but it was quickly overshadowed by Maria's little nice surprise. That is until I got on the plane after it had finally left Baltimore and landed in Chicago.

After we had all boarded our flight, we had to wait longer because the ground crews were overworked and could not load our bags into our plane well after our plane was deiced. And on top of that, as a rusty road warrior, I had totally forgotten to look for the right seats. As soon as I saw an open middle seat in the exit aisle, I quickly jumped at it. I totally forgot to notice that A) the man and woman on either sides were quite large, and B) they were a husband and a wife who were so big that they couldn't sit next to each other!

Unfortunately, it was all too late by the time I realized that I had picked the absolutely worst seat in the house. Or plane. And right after the plane took off, I realized that their teenage son was sitting across the center aisle on the other side of the plane!

So what is wrong with sitting next to two large people, you might ask? Well, normally, it's not all that bad. But in this particular situation, it was extremely horrible, because the husband to my right was top heavy. His left shoulder and arm went past the imaginary personal space border by about three inches, causing me to lean to my left. And his wife to my left was bottom heavy. I could not put my left armrest all the way down, because her right hip and thigh extended past the armrest by three inches into my seat!

So here I was, sitting crookedly, with my hip to the right, and my upper torso to my left. And the flight was a cool four hours long! In my seven year experience as a road warrior, I have never been subjected to such uncomfortable contortion of my body! I was leaning to my left side, but I couldn't support myself because if I use my left arm to lean on my left armrest, then it would be pushing down on the woman's leg fat. The last thing I needed was being barked at with: "Can't you see that you're pinching my leg when you lean on the armrest?"

By the time our flight landed in Seattle, my lower back was in pain, and I could feel a kink when I slung my laptop bag over my shoulders. As I stumbled out of the terminal, I thought to myself, What a way to take my final outbound business flight! How memorable!

The Mile High Club

[Note: I originally wrote this blog on the plane a long time ago, and never publised it. While cleaning up my laptop before I return it to IBM, I discovered this somewhat dated material. Why waste it, right? So here you go...]

Ever since my college friend's then-boyfriend bragged about getting it on with her while on a plane, I have always wondered about what it would be like to join the ranks of the famous rockers of years past, and the elite few who were able to do the nearly impossible.

As someone who is totally afraid of germs and getting sick, I try my utmost best not to use the lavatory on planes other than to take a piss. But in all of my travels, nearly twice a week domestically for the last six and a half years and a few international flights scattered in, I have only taken a big ol' dump on the plane just once. It was out of sheer desperation, for otherwise I would never allow myself such nastiness. And given that it was a newer Boeing 737-700 with the redesigned lavatories affording bigger space, I still managed to have a near impossible time bending my torso and navigating myself in a lavatory just to take a dump. By myself.

Yeah, you can say that I'm a very curious person. And I, too, covet that honorary medal of the mile high club. But given the logistic of things, namely the physics of two bodies thrusting in synchronization, I thought it was practically impossible. Hell, I was bumping walls and knocking my elbows and knees just to get my pants down to shit! Unless, of course, you charter one of those specialty flights I once blogged about. (Click on the link to read the story.)

Then, my sliver of a dream finally came true, with the Airbus A380. If you're not familiar with at least commercial aviation, I pity you the ignorant. ;-) Anyway, the Airbus A380 is the newest largest plane to navigate our skies, taking the trophy away from the venerable Boeing 787. Originally, nobody thought the plane would ever fly, fearing that no airline will purchase one, and no airport will want to accommodate such monstrosity. After all, it is a double-decker plane!!!

Well, Singapore Airlines became the first airline to take flight with its new aircraft. It is also one of the first to reveal its cabin configuration, something which is considered almost a trade secret among airlines when it comes to seating capacity, arrangement, and the sorts before flying its new fleet of new model planes.

I was rather pleased to learn that Singapore Airlines will be the first airline ever to provide a cabin with a double bed! Aha! So there is still a way of being inducted into the Mile High Club. Yes, my dream continues to live! Just as long as I earn enough money to pay for something like that, seeing how my bare inability to pay even coach fare when traveling abroad even now.

And the best parts of it all? It's not like one of those semi-private partitions where fellow passengers can see you when they stand up, but a real room with walls! And to put the final cherry on that cake, endless champagne is included. Sounds like one of those all-inclusive resorts in Mexico to me, except in the air!!!

Of course, all good things, or imaginations, must come to a crashing end. Times of London had this to report in its article on the new double bed cabin:
"A380 may have the world's first airborne double bed, but it won't be put to the obvious use if Singapore Airlines has its way." (Note: I added the emphasis.)

Of course, Singapore Airlines spokesperson Stephen Forshaw had this to say about the potential hanky panky after Singapore Airlines' inaugural Airbus A380 flight:
"If couples used our double beds to engage in inappropriate activity, we would politely ask them to desist."

Damn!

What a perfect waste of unlimited champagne. =)

A Break, Finally...

December brought a much-needed reprieve this time around. I was just a tad bit tired of traveling. Don’t get me wrong, Seattle was lots of fun, but the weekly commute was getting tiring. Instead of spending Sunday afternoons vegetating in front of the television watching the various NFL games, especially my beloved Bears, I was spending my Sunday afternoons cabbing it to the airport, and spending perhaps no more than 20 minutes standing near the entrance of an airport bar peering in at the television set.

I was originally supposed to fly to Seattle the first week of December, but something came up on the client's end that pretty much ended up with me being asked to cancel my travel plans. I worked from home instead. Then the second week of December is entirely dedicated to my first ever Mexican trip. Who can complain about going south for a week in the dead of the brutal Chicago winter?

Although the third week of December is not a vacation time for me, I won't be traveling still because I'll be "stuck" in Chicago attending a much needed training class. This is good, because the class will definitely increase my skill set and ante up my marketability. I certainly can't complain about that.

Then the final week of December will be spent on yet another vacation. You see, the problem is that at IBM, if I don't use up all my vacation time by the end of the year, I lose it all. Sure, it sounds like I'll be taking quite a lot of vacations in the month of December, but I definitely won't be able to use up all of my 15 days of vacation though. In fact, I'll be wasting about 12 hours of vacation, if I were to continue with my currently scheduled time-off.

But it's alright, though. Cos I certainly ain't complaining. =)

Return of the Klutz

In my formidable years of high school, I had the reputation of being a klutz. Involuntarily, of course. Whether I was in a basketball championship game as a varsity starter, or playing the lead role in school plays, or just plain walking through the halls of school, something would inevitably happen to me. It could be varied, like tripping over my own foot, walking into doors, or accidentally hitting myself in the face while trying to open some silly thing.

Well, as an adult, I have outgrown my clumsiness. In fact, the last time I had a klutzy moment was probably in 1999, when during Thanksgiving break while stuck in the residence halls of Southwest Missouri State University, I sliced my thumb open with a super-sharp kitchen knife while cutting the packaging of an assemble-it-yourself furniture from Wal-Mart. That little stint had me visiting the Emergency Department of a local hospital.

Now, fast forward to this week. On Tuesday, I decided on a whim to fly out to Seattle and join my friends on a ski trip to Whistler-Blackcomb. The plan was to fly out on Wednesday and stay in Seattle that evening, then drive up to Whistler on Thursday, and ski Friday and Saturday before spending Saturday night and Sunday in Vancouver.

Well... As we were loading up my friend's car on the crisp, Thursday morning, I somehow jammed my toe on the post of the fence lining his front "yard." Boy, did it hurt like hell. So much so that I screamed bloody murder.

Then the next day (Friday), after a full day of skiing on Whistler mountain, we returned to the hotel room to chillax. While walking around in the living room, I somehow walked into the armoire holding the television. The corner of it jabbed so deep into my arm that I let out a rather loud yelp.

On the Saturday morning of our final day of skiing at Whistler, we headed down to the lobby to get our daily free breakfast consisting of "scrambled" eggs made out of instant, powdered eggs, children coughed-on cereal, and toasts touched by other guests who obviously thought the thongs were merely for display. Before we even got to the elevators on our floor, I somehow did not pay attention to where I was going and heard a big whack and my lights went out momentarily. Within seconds, I found myself staring at the ceiling, head throbbing in multiple pulses of pain, and my hand clenching onto my balls on the floor.

All I heard was, "What the..." followed by the uncontrolled laughter of my friend and his girlfriend. I had no idea what had happened, but my initial thought was maybe my friend played a cruel trick on me. But when I looked around to see what had happened, I realized that I had walked into a metal pole in the middle of a fire-controlling doorway. Apparently, I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking, and arranged myself a private meeting with said doorframe.

Ouch!

Then today, after lunch at Vancouver, we walked around downtown in the hopes of finding a route back to the parking garage which was separated by a closed off Santa Clause Parade route. While walking in the lower level of the side street next to the Royal Provincial Court's pavilion, I almost fell on my face when I didn't see a step in the courtyard. Apparently, unlike the United States, the Canadians don't bother with painting the edges of unexpected steps with bright yellow tape indicating a drop-off.

Just as I almost fell and screamed a wobbly whoa, my friend looked at me before quipping to his girlfriend, "You know, this guy is so clumsy that he has at least a major incident each day." And they giggled at my expense.

Now, while writing this in the car en route back to Seattle, I realized that indeed my old clumsy self has paid a visit in the last few days! It sucks, but at least it didn't result in serious injuries other than a big shiner on my forehead with a bump the size of Mount Rainier. As I slowly rub my bump soothingly, I slowly mutter to myself, "This shit's gotta stop soon."

Hello, A-List!

On Friday morning, I had the pleasure of having to wake up at 04:30 so that I could enjoy hitting the snooze button just five times, and hang up on four different phone calls that I had previously set up with wake-up call service. I eventually did rise by 05:07, just in time to brush my teeth, throw my clothes on, and leave for the airport. Although I thought I was quite speedy throughout the whole thing, it was 05:18 when I left my hotel room, which only afforded me 12 minutes to get to the airport.

Ever the lead foot that I am, I was instantly disappointed no more with the new Saturn Outlook SUV Hertz had triple upgraded me to, what with its 3.6 litre, 270 horse power V6 engine and 20 inch wheels. I drove like a mad bat out of hell, and surprisingly made it to Seattle Tacoma International Airport by 05:32! I have to admit, as a person not easily impressed, that was pretty freaking impressive, considering the mere 14 minutes covered the elevator ride, navigation out of the garage, snaking through the famed one way streets of downtown Seattle before getting onto I-5, and a cool 14.1 miles of highway on I-5. Nothing beats knowing you had just commandeered a half ton of steel, rubber and glass at Superman speeds!

I actually was disappointed with my rental car all week, despite enjoying all the creature comforts like leather seating, sunroof, heated seats and automatic climate control. You see, the Hilton Seattle parking garage isn't exactly accommodating for vehicles that size. Navigating around the garage each time I leave or return was a hair raising experience. Am I going to sideswipe that wall on the left as I turn the corner? Is my front going to bump the right wall as I turn the corner to avoid the wall on the left? With each wall and corner nicely decorated with rainbow colors of streaks and several poles bent over, I could tell that this garage had claimed many innocent drivers who didn't know how to drive, or at least unfamiliar with the dimensions of their vehicles. I was glad that after nine weeks of staying here in Seattle, I have not once made a love tap, or ass rape for that matter, between my different rental vehicles and the garage.

Anyway, on Thursday morning while I was on my porcelain throne, I read in the USA Today about how Southwest Airlines will begin its new boarding procedure, to which I had known for months but neglected to tie a virtual ribbon around my finger. And instantly, I realized that I had to check into my Thursday morning flight, because it was 08:00 already, and my flight was going to be at 06:35 the next morning. I wasn't in a hurry, because my experience has taught me that if I check into my flight within six hours of when they allow you to check in, chances were pretty good that I'd get the A group.

Boy, was I wrong.

Instead of the usual A, B and C groups which people can line up as early as they want so as to be the first in that boarding group to get a good seat, Southwest Airlines now assign numbers on top of the group based on when you checked in online. First come first serve. So if my flight leaves at 06:35 on Friday, everybody on that flight could begin checking in online at 06:35 on Thursday. The first 60 people to check in gets the A group, with each subsequent 60 in the B and C groups respectively. And the numerical assignment also indicates their place within their respective group, thus leaving ass holes like me out in the cold.

Because as a business traveler, I sometimes book my flight at the last minute, but I always made sure I checked in promptly 24 hours ahead so that I got into the A group, despite getting a 59, for example. (The numbers had always been printed on the boarding pass for years, but not for the same purpose as now.) Then I made damn sure that I get to the gate early enough so that I could be the first person in the A group by standing in line all alone. Of course, this would cause a snowball effect, because suddenly, even though the flight may not leave for yet another 75 minutes, everybody who had been comfortable sitting in their seats would suddenly get up and stand in line behind me. With seats at the gate abandoned, people were willing to stand in line for over an hour just to get good seats. I guess this is why Southwest Airlines decided to form the new boarding procedure. And now I'm the victim, if I got number 59 in the A group.

Apparently, the flight back to Chicago was filled with fellow loyal Southwest Airlines patrons, because when I checked in online after I cleaned myself up good from the cake making experience that Thursday morning, I got the B group. Yeah! I didn't even make it into the second half of the A group. And it had only been an hour and a half since the check in window of time opened! Group B?!? Luckily, I got position 5. At least I got to be the fifth person to board in the B group. But still, I was displeased!

Well, when I got to work that Thursday, I checked my email, which I had neglected on Wednesday evening because I was busy having a good time at dinner with my friends. I had received an email on Wednesday from Southwest Airlines, telling me that in addition to the new boarding procedures, they will also begin this thing called the A-List, and that I was close to getting in, but no banana. Well, they didn't exactly use banana, but they also wrote to say that once I became eligible, they will notify me first thing in their order of business. Okay, they didn't exact say that either, but something to that effect.

The A-List is another privilege of prestige, on top of the Companion Pass privilege, which I've had for years. Fly with Southwest Airlines enough to earn at least 100 points before a full cycle of rolling 365 days, and you get the Companion Pass for a year. Anyone I designate as my companion can fly with me for free. Anyway, the A-List privilege entailed that if a passenger had made 32 one way flights with Southwest Airlines in a rolling 365 days, then he or she would be eligible for the A-List, whereby Southwest Airlines will check you into your flight for you and get you into at least the A group, so you don't have to wake up at 06:35 24 hours before your flight to check in like for me.

Man, when I got that email saying I didn't make it, I tore up my copy of the USA Today in half, and stormed out like a little girl. Okay, I really didn't, but if I was a little girl who surprisingly enjoys reading newspapers first thing in the morning, then I would totally have done that. =) Sigh...

Of course, just as luck would have it, when I checked my email on Friday, guess what?!? I got another email from Southwest Airlines!



Hello, A-List!

Now it's Sunday evening, and I'm on the plane flying to Seattle. And I'm happy to report that I did not check into my 20:00 flight 24 hours ahead on Saturday, and I still got into the A group! Sadly though, is the fact that I was given position 49. That's pretty much the bottom of the A group, which still doesn't really earn me first dibs on the open seating policy. Or second, or third through the fifteenth dib. But for now, I think this will do. I feel like a rock star for being inducted into the A-List. Sa-weet!

Now, if only they would roll out the red carpet at the gate for the A-Listed passengers.

Grumpier Old Sore Man

Alternate Title: Hidden Nail, Crouching Toe

Alternate Alternate Title: This Ain't No Seattle Grace

Nothing beats fate taking another quick, hard swing at a downed guy. It's almost as if fate is taunting me while I roll on the ground crutching onto my sack of balls in pain before kicking me yet again in the nuts. Yeah, I love this feeling...

As if having to adjust to the new Southwest flight that departs on Sundays at 20:00 after Southwest Airlines discontinued the 15:50 direct flight wasn't enough, I had to accidentally leave my Shure noise-blocking earphones at home, thus making the four and a half hour plane ride for a miserable hell. Well, at least I spent part of the flight writing my previous blog.

And to sweeten the wholesome experience, I ended up visiting the Emergency Room on Monday instead of going to work.

Yippie yay. Give me a cheer...

As I rose out of bed in all of my naked morning glory, I hit the Snooze button for the final time and stumbled around the room. As usual when I stay at the Downtown Seattle Hilton every week, I'd look out the peephole of my door, hold my breath and listen hard for signs of any other hotel guests walking by my room. After all, the last thing I want to do is to accidentally flash some poor fellow patron with a good view of my other moustache.

When I thought things were in the clear, I cracked open the door a good foot apart, took a step forward, and bent down to get my fresh, crisp copy of the USA Today paper while my banana and plums hung out there as if they were ripen to pluck off the bushes. But yesterday, when I took that fateful first step after revealing my naked self to the hallway, I felt a sharp pain. I let out a brief OUCH! before hurriedly grabbing the newspaper and closing the door shut.

What the fuck was that?

I must've stepped on an exposed nail of a carpet tack strip! I bent down and felt the carpet with the palms of my hand, and felt nothing in the area of an inch from the edge of the door edge. Thinking it was just nothing and that I had an overly sensitive feet bottom that morning, I proceeded to the bathroom while I take my leisurely dump while reading my fresh newspaper.

Interesting... The United States is in a rock and hard place with Pervez Musharraf's recent abandonment of the Pakistani Constitution. What will Dubya do?

After I had read a couple more articles and wiped my ass in satisfaction, I prepared to get up from my porcelain throne before I suddenly noticed something in the bathroom rug. A red dot.

What the...?

I moved my right foot away and there was yet another red dot on the rug! Before long, a huge, giant light bulb came on in my head! I flipped my right foot over, and I found my big toe with broken skin and blood oozing out of the little hole.

Great! My suckiness apparently will be continuing into the new day...

While I was still naked (after I had wiped my ass and flushed the toilet), I began to do the whole CSI thing and investigate what had happened. Surely enough, I found a nail sticking out about a quarter of a centimeter from the carpet! Holy moly!!!

Instinctively, my recessive Asian genes became dominant suddenly and I decided to start taking pictures of whatever evidence I could gather. If it wasn't for Erin and her experience this past year with a hotel where it disclaimed any responsibility for the injury she had gotten during her stay, I would not have thought about being a savvy crime scene investigator. I needed all the ammo I could gather to force the hotel into:
A) paying for all my medical bill without making a claim against my health insurance,
B) comp'ing one night of my hotel stay if the whole ordeal was going to take the entire day, thus missing a day of work (which did happen), and
C) providing me with Hilton Hhonors points to compensate for my inconvenience.

As if luck would have it, fate picked the perfect day for me to get injured by my hotel room. All the managers were not available, as there was a board meeting which required all managers to attend. I asked to speak with the secretary of the General Manager, hoping that she could interrupt the meeting to inform some manager that one of their valued guests was injured and needed medical attention. Pronto. But no luck.

Grrr...

I tried to remember from my high school biology class about tetanus, and I knew I had to get a shot of some kind, and that there was a period of time I would be okay before getting lockjaw. In my mind, I thought it was 12 hours, so I told her that I would wait till the meeting concludes. The last thing I want to do is take the General Manager's business card to the hospital and inform the triage person that my bill will be covered by the hotel, and that the business card would be used as, uhm, collateral. Yeah right!

Soon enough, Joe, a controller in accounting decided to take matters into his own hands. He gave me $20 for the cab fare to and from the Swedish Medical Hospital, and gave me his business card so that the triage person could call him directly and obtain the necessary financial and insurance information from the hotel. So off I went.

Of course, after waiting almost an hour in the lobby, I finally got admitted. I couldn't believe it took an hour on a slow day. I'd hate to see how long it will take for me to even tell someone my name, address and date of birth during a busy night! And of course, after getting admitted, I waited and waited for almost another hour before being escorted to a room in the Emergency Department. And the kicker? I waited yet another hour in my room before a nurse even came to check my vitals before an attending could see me.

By the time all was said and done, it was almost 16:00 by the time I returned to my hotel. It was simply wishful thinking that it might be a quick ordeal and still allow me to go to work. So basically, I lugged around my laptop bag in the cab, then the hospital, for nothing! And I returned to my hotel room with a sore arm, because the doctor said that since it was a nail that I stepped on and the last time I had a tetanus shot was eight years ago, it was probably best to give me another shot.

Lucky for me, tetanus shots are one of the most painful vaccines. No, not painful as in when the needle gets inserted into your muscle, but the lingering effects for days afterwards. And I have never been afraid of needles anyway, as I was one of those odd kids who enjoys watching the needle go in.

When I got back, I talked to Joe and reiterated my list of demands. I should have added this to the list:
D) Buy me lunch.
After all, I had spent all day in the freaking hospital without food.

Well, it is now Tuesday, and I can say for sure that the CDC wasn't kidding in their pamphlet when they indicated that tetanus shots were one of the most painful vaccinations. My left are is sore and painful, as if I had been tackled high and hard on the field.

Now, I'm just a grumpy old sore man.

Below are pictures and (yes, I wrote and) videos!!! Enjoy!!!

Ran Like a Girl!

Okay, that title up there is not supposed to be self-deprecating, but more of an exclamation in excitement.

Damn right, I'm bragging that I ran like a girl! You see, this past weekend I have been (and still am) in San Francisco. I came here as a mini vacation so that I could run in the Nike Women's Half Marathon to benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Sure, it is just a women's race, but after a small handful of boys crashing last year's race, I decided that I would crash it this year myself. And there were about 500 men registered this year, amongst the 23,000 capped runners.

As I'm sitting in my hotel room almost butt naked (as a germaphobe, do you think I would let my bare ass touch the seat in a hotel room, shared by thousands of past questionable guests), I'm just updating my blog, short and sweet, just to let you know I'm still alive and well.

I did the half marathon in 2:20:19. My new personal record! This year seems to be the year for me to break two personal records in half marathons. Earlier on August 12, I posted a personal record of 2:10:05 at the Chicago Distance Classic Half Marathon. Yes, my personal worst! And now, I broke my own worst record yet again, by more than 10 minutes!!!

Well, to my credit, this was my first hilly race, considering the fact that I'm really accustomed to the Chicago flats. Furthermore, this was just two weeks after my Chicago Marathon, which I'm supposed to be in recovery mode. And finally, I did not stop and walk throughout the entire race, other than to get hydration or use the porta-pots! I'm very pleased with my new personal worst record! =)

More to follow, hopefully with pictures. =)

Mobile Update: Are You Kidding Me?

It is 18:43 central, on October 18, somewhere over Illinois 20 minutes before we are to land at Midway. Needless to say, I'm on my way home from Seattle.

Guess what? A dude fainted and collapsed into the first row in front of me! And he is very disoriented. Without any surprise, the flight attendants rushed to the forward gallery, and the following announcement was made: Is there a medical personnel onboard?

I really feel sorry for the guy, as the flight attendants props his feet up and a doctor assists him, but c'mon! THREE return trips from Seattle with medical emergencies? I must be cursed or something!

Over six years of nearly weekly travels have I ever been on and I have never seen a single medical emergency in-flight! And suddenly I witness three in a row? Is that like a hint fate is telling me that I need to stop flying?

Well, luckily I took a quick video of it before I realized that my N95 phone camera freaking lit up with a bright red light and before any flight attendants noticed me. I'll upload this blog from my mobile phone blogger once I land and upload the video later when I get home.

Update 2007.10.18 21:48: Here is the video...

Not So Innocent Grandma

So after the little medical scare about 30,000 feet somewhere between Seattle and Chicago, the captain finally allowed us to move about the cabin. We were not allowed to use the lavatories before then, because he wanted to ensure that the flight crew along with the doctors onboard can move about without interruption to the medical attention the lady was getting.

Naturally, after being held pee/poo-hostage for a considerable amount of time, it was to no one's surprise that as soon as the captain allowed us to move about the cabin, people got up to use the lavatory. Sitting at row six didn't help, because there was an innocent old man one row ahead of me who got up and into the aisle before I could after the first person stepped out of the front lavatory.

So I fixed my eyes on the lavatory status sign overhead. The minute the big red X over the lavatory symbol disappeared, I jumped out of the chair so as to prevent some other schmuck behind me from stealing that pee opportunity. When I got into the lavatory and lifted the toilet cover and seat, I was simply appalled that such an innocent old man could leave his pool of piss sitting there, all foamy and yellow.

Gross!

I didn't want to pee and have our combined piss accidentally splash onto my jeans, I pressed that blue button that created a strong air suction pulling all that foamy mess presumably into the sky. Yeah, whichever poor kid in Idaho who stuck out his tongue and thought he tasted snow crystals with his tongue sticking out will never know the dirty truth. =)

After my floodgates got opened and feeling quite satisfied, I thought I could finally fall asleep like a little baby. That I did, only after asking for a blanket from the flight attendant so I can cover my face and block out the bright sunlight.

I finally woke up about an hour before we were to land in Chicago, right after I unconsciously jerked my head back and pulled a big slurping noise out of the corner of my mouth. I knew I had to wake up because the girls I sat next to began giggling. Although they couldn't see it, I'm sure they could easily imagine that I must have some kind of drool trailing from the corner of my mouth to my shoulder.

When I pulled off the blanket from my face, not only was I hit with a couple strong rays of sunshine, but an urgent tug from within. Specifically, my bladder. Shit, I gotta go! I looked up at the lavatory signage, and sure enough, it was occupied.

I waited, and waited.

And then I waited some more.

I almost got down on my knees and sang praises to the baby lord Jesus when the lavatory sign turned green without the big red X. Out came a little frail, old lady. As we passed each other in the aisle, I smiled at her, while she returned the favor. I thought I caught a glimpse of an evil kind of a smile, but I blew it off thinking it was just my dreary eyes still adjusting to the light.

After I locked the door behind me, I lifted the toilet cover and seat. Lo and behold, in all its glory, a couple pieces of sticky doo doo sat right there, staring right back at me. I gagged. And I gagged again. Holy shit, grandma!!!

As I started to pee, I was still shocked at the fact that sweet, innocent grandma could possibly leave me such a present. Then I realized soon enough that I had to save my pee, because there must be others waiting to use the lavatory after me. And if those two pieces of sticky shit still sat there when I leave, it would be utterly embarrassing, especially if one of the two cute girls sitting next to me was to go right after me.

I couldn't possibly let that kind of humiliation happen to me, even though it wasn't my shit to begin with. Seeing that I'm a guy, I am well equipped to pee with near deadly aim. So I decided to take matters into my hand, and pee as hard as I could on the two pieces of grandma shit.

I was really determined to get those sticky buggers out of sight, or at least dislodged just a little enough so that the flush could take them away. And just as I began feeling my bladder almost empty, both of grandma's sticky shits budged!

Hooray! Hooray!!!

After flushing and washing my hands, I came out of that lavatory feeling really proud. But I made damn sure that I give the not-so-innocent grandma a smile and a wink when I walk by her. Not to gloat, but to let her know I took care of her business. =)

Mobile Update: False Alarm

Well, thankfully, the passenger who lost consciousness is alright. She is an 87 year old lady who had just lost her husband.



That's sad. And that's one of my biggest fears in life, to outlive a beloved one.



I guess thankfully to a lesser extent, I won't be spending the entire day slowly trekking across the United States by way of Lincoln, Nebraska.

Mobile Update: Is There a Doctor Onboard?

Seriously. What is up with the 06:35 flight (WN-1397) from Seattle to Chicago on Fridays? Two weeks ago, on the exact same flight, we had to stop in Lincoln, NE because a passenger had a medical emergency in-flight. Well, I'm having a bad case of deja-vu, as I heard an announcement overhead inquiring if there was a doctor onboard, just like in the movies. As I type this draft blog on my N95 midair, I can feel the plane drop in altitude, and a slight change in direction in an otherwise non-eventful direct flight that should keep us in a constant cruising altitude for the majority of the 4 hours and 30 minutes airborne time.



I honestly hope whoever the ill-stricken passenger is not in any immediate danger and can survive long enough to see miles of corn that leads up to the Lincoln, Nebraska airport. It'd be nice to revisit, but I wouldn't be opposed to stopping somewhere else for a 'change in scenery.' I'll be sure to update you once I land and connect to AT&T.



Oh, I should also add that unlike the flight two weeks ago today, today's flight is filled with doctors! I remembere talking to a couple doctors at my hotel in Seattle over the week because there was a medical convention!



I wonder if the commotion a few rows behind me is playing out like a scene in Grey's Anatomy where a bunch of doctors and residents argue over possible diagnosises. :)

Mobile Update: Shamu

Mobile Update: Corns Galore!

It's a little past 12:30, and I just landed in Lincoln, Nebraska. I was supposed to land at Midway at 13:00, but instead had to take a break because we had a medical emergency about half hour into the Seattle-Chicago flight. We got four medics onboard, and we're not allowed to get out of our seats to pee or what not.



This is my first experience with something like this. And the first time I've ever flown over acres and acres of corn for more than 10 minutes before landing! Weird!