I Have Arrived ....

.... to what appears to be "The Windy City".  Yes, I know that Chicago is really the official "Windy City", but it's not named that because of the actual winds (but for the political windBAGS there).  Anywhooo ...

We landed here around 4:30 p.m. and the weather was .... to put it nicely .... stinky.  Yes, that really is the nicest way to put it.  Don't get me started.

It was rainy and very, very grey.

So much for all of the California sunshine.  Or even the smog.

And the airport .... oh, my word, the airport.

This is L.A., right?  You know, Los Angeles.  

Hollywood. Theme parks.  Studios/Theme parks.  TV shows.  Movies.

A good-sized city, yes?

Wouldn't one think that a "good-sized" city would have a "good-sized" airport to match?  And an airport that didn't appear to be right out of "Green Acres" and/or "Petticoat Junction"?  And yes, I am totally aging myself so if you don't know what those two interrelated shows are,  go to IMDB.  And then go play a Harry Potter game or something.

Now?  Ahhhhh, right.  The airport.

I really did feel like I had landed in the middle of nowhere.

There's contstruction going on everywhere and it's a mess from the moment you step out of the jet way.  Many, many people looked like they were a bit lost ..... and were just ..... grazing.  I texted Michele when I got in to tell her I had landed ..... and to add that it might be a while since I was trying to find any sign/banner/indication that there might be a baggage area.  I finally saw one sign with an arrow that pointed in a general direction.

It was to be the last helpful arrow I'd see.

I started to just follow a small clump of people.  It felt like we were all sheep who had lost our shepherd. There was no real leader .... no one looked as if he/she really knew where he/she was going.  It was rather sad.

We stepped onto an escalator that took us down stairs.  OK, that was good .... most airports keep their baggage areas downstairs.

But when I stepped off of the escalator, I had no idea what to do next.  To my right was a wall of sliding glass doors with the security symbol for "do not enter here or we will shoot you first and ask questions later" (a red circle with a slash through it) ..... accompanied by some severely attitude-challenged individuals, who had way too much power for their short little bodies.  (No, I'm not saying that all short security people (men) are hell-bent on shooting someone ..... it just appeared that THESE individuals were!).

Anyway ..... I could not go right.  

Straight ahead as you got off the escalator .... after about 10 feet, was the door to the outside .... curb pickup.  Knew I didn't want to go there because I doubted that, while Continental does love me very much, I knew they would not arrange curb-side luggage drop off for me.

To my left was lots of construction with lots of things covered up and no indication of what was beyond.  To make matters worse, yesterday with the first "official" day that Continental became United, thus confusing EVERYONE!  The flight attendants had to use "United" in all of the announcements.  They messed up every time.

Every.  Single.  Time.

As would I after working for a company for 20 years and then suddenly having to call it something else.

So when I was looking for some kind of signage, I didn't know whether to go with Continental or United.

I finally saw a small sign that pointed out a direction for United baggage.  I pondered this for a moment and then decided to go that way.  It led me outside .... and to what I soon found out was, another terminal.  Way, way down there.

I stopped, pondered the likelihood of my luggage being taken to a far off terminal, muttered a four letter word, and turned around to go back into the escalator/stressed security room.

I watched a few sheep mill around for a bit and then I decided to follow the construction.  I figured it might work like a river bed ..... sooner or later I'd find signs of life.

After walking around a few blind curves I did see a small baggage carousel.  About 5 people were standing around it (our plane was packed so there were way more than 5).  Then I noticed a small sign on top of the carousel that said "Continental".  No flight number, no time ..... just a small, easy-to-miss sign.  I decided to give this a shot, even though there wasn't much action.

A young woman glanced at me as she walked past.  She stopped, looked at me and then walked back to me.  I wondered if the "krishna people" stopped shaving their heads.

She stopped and asked me if this was the flight from Houston's luggage area.  I told her that I didn't know, but hoped so.  She muttered something and then turned and walked away.

I guess I was not the shepherd she was looking for.

Welcome to the club, sister.

Michele and I had been texting this entire time,  to keep informed as to where we each were, so she knew that I was wandering around, but not in, the Promised Land.  She wasn't much of a shepherd, either .... since the construction was an on-going, ever evolving thing.

I finally heard some machinery kicking in and the carousel began to move.  And low and behold .... luggage started appearing.  And thank you, God, my green suitcase was there within a few minutes.

Mission accomplished.

I gave a thumbs up sign to the insolent security people behind the glass (who just sneered in return) and went outside to meet up with Michele.

It was great to see her.  :)

We loaded up her car and set out for traffic.

Lots and lots and lots of traffic.  But Michele had a plan.

We would avoid most of the traffic by eating at a nearby restaurant .... and then head out afterwards, when the rush hour time was over.

So we went to a restaurant she had found earlier that looked promising  interesting.  And by interesting she meant that it had pizza and beer on the menu .... so if the food looked horrible we could always get pizza and beer.  I was good with the pizza plan.  Beer?  Not so much.

But it didn't matter.

It was a German-ish restaurant.  Lots and lots of German names on the menu.

And it all looked very interesting.

We chose to split ...... ready? ...... spaghetti with meat sauce.

I know!  Who knew the Germans were really huge pasta lovers?!!!

Actually, it was pretty good.

So was the glass of red wine.

And the 2 1/2 hours of conversation.

We had a great time.

And then .... at 2 hours and 25 minutes, the power went out.  Twice.  The second time it stayed out.  As it did everywhere else you looked.  None of the businesses had power.  Nor the parking lots.  Nor the houses.  Nor the streets.

We decided to leave earlier, rather than later to deal with this.

We slowly picked our way back to the dark parking lot and then out onto the street.

It was very, very strange.  Lots of cars, but no street lights.  No traffic lights .... which some people seemed to be aware of, but some did not.  Most people took the darkened intersections like a 4-way stop sign .... as they should.  But some sped right through them.  Hundreds of accidents just waiting to happen.

And all the while, the winds were crazy!  Stuff was blowing all over the place.

We were sitting at a non-lit-traffic-light when we both looked up and saw a beach ball heading our way.  Yes.  An inflated beach ball, rolling and bouncing through the intersection toward and then past us.  I wish we'd not been so stunned that one of us could've take a picture.  It was hilarious.  

Anyway, we drove most of the drive (an hour or so) in a huge traffic jam (so much for missing rush hour .... it appears that any hour when there's no power in LA is rush hour).  But it wasn't too bad.  And we were busy talking so the time seemed to go by quickly.  And before long we were heading further out of the traffic and out of the blackout area ..... towards signs of life!

We went to Barb's house (another board member) and sat and chatted for a while.  Until I announced, though I really, really hated to, that I was so tired I was going to fall off of the kitchen stool (I had not gone to sleep until 4:30 a.m. that morning .... and then got up at 6:30).  So I was shown to my room in Barb's house, where I unpacked while they continued to visit.  It was only 8:30 p.m. here, but 10:30 at home.  Which is still early for me .... but not last night.

I read for a bit and then fell sound asleep.

And slept great until I made myself get up at 9:00 a.m. .... 11:00 at home.  Yikes!!

I feel great!

So there you go ..... a few travel notes.

L.A. can't say that it wasn't warned that I'd be coming for a visit.  They should've prepared.  Should've battened down the hatches and pulled out all of their generators.

Because that's just how I seem to roll ..... trouble follows.

:)

OK, time to get ready for the rest of the day ..... Dana (another board member) just flew in and Michele is picking her up now.

We're going to have SO MUCH FUN!!  I wish all of my Camp Widow Peeps could be here.  But I know you're here in spirit .... and we're thinking of you!!!

Happy Thursday, Peeps.

:)