Seattle, Day 1. Tuesday, Jan 29th, 2013

Tuesday, Jan 29th marked the beginning and end of our voyage to Seattle, Washington ('Murrca!), unless of course you count the previous day's drive down to Fort Qu'Appelle, Saskatchewan (Canadiana) to have supper with most of my immediate family before leaving the country, in which case Monday, Jan 28th actually marks the beginning, and today marks the second and final leg of the journey.  Regardless ("Don't you mean irregardless?" - Andy), Ash and I were up and on the road to Regina by about 9:45am, far in advance of the agreed upon Regina airport arrival time of 1:15pm ("At the latest!" - Dad). We left early to visit one of her friends and to have ourselves one last lunch together before we parted company for, minimum, two months. Not that my time here will be cut short, but rather, that is the first time that is workable for her to fly out.

Le sigh.

We went to La Bodega, which, if you're ever in Regina for any reason, you really ought to try out. Tasty food, great atmosphere, slightly bitchy waitress, who, I'm told, has worked there for years and years. Outside in the courtyard (La Bodega totally has a courtyard) there is an actual bar, made of ice. It was neat.

We made it to the airport with plenty of time, to build up to a tearful goodbye. Mom and I cleared security, found out our plane was delayed, met up with some friends who were flying out to Hawaii and their first flight was the same as ours, and then hung out in the airport lounge for half an hour while we waited. I had a ceasar. They freepour, apparently.

The first flight was unremarkable, as most of them tend to be. We went up, we cruised, we went down, we landed (in Calgary). Mom fell asleep three times during the safety shpiel, I read a chunk of Middlesex (great book, but things that win Pulizters tend to be). I did feel a little sorry for the toddler who was sitting behind us. From what I overheard, her dad is awesome, but because of the flight, she had missed her nap, and during the descent, she was having trouble with her ears and said "owie, owie, owie" quite a lot.

Calgary. Bags. Food. Meet up with friend. 'Murrcan customs.

Lessons learned:

- When asked, "Why do you want to go to [x_city]?" Answering, "A couple of stem cell transplants," is essentially bulletproof.

- Being a white male, aged 18-35, means no 'random' screening. My pants stayed on and my nethers remained nethery.

- A pack of playing cards in your carry-on equals MYSTERY RECTANGLE to the x-ray jockeys. This will perturb them, and they will ask to open your bag.

We flew out of Calgary on a plane that used propellers, rather than jet turbines. I could see one of them from my window, and it was neat watching the landing gear retract into the engine body. An hour and a half later, we arrived in Seattle, where, surprise, it was raining softly. After straightening out a luggage issue, we were picked up by a lady named Sharon, a volunteer driver for the SCCA. As we headed into Seattle proper, she gave us the nickel tour, pointing landmarks out as we drove past them. She showed us where the SCCA was, where the Pete Gross House was, took us to Whole Foods for some provisions, and then took us the SCCA House, where we are staying until our apartment at PGH opens up (we're on a waiting list).

Our room was nice, but smelled like farts and feet. Turns out there had been some sort of spill or leak in the room, the carpet at one end was damp, and ever so slightly sitcky. The front desk was closed for the night, so we resolved to take care of it in the morning. I facetime'd with Ash, Mom and I played a game of crib with my MYSTERY RECTANGLE cards, and then we went to bed. Slept like a rock.

Maybe if they called it "can't-cer" it would make a frowny face and go away. - Rob Delaney