Wednesday, September 22, 2010


I hate travel.

I hate planning for travel. I hate travel websites. I hate comparing flights. I hate picking flights. I hate rental car websites. I hate hotel websites. I hate travel websites.

I hate airport shuttles. I hate air caps. I hate ticket agents. I hate security. I hate taking shoes off. I hate their seemingly random rules. I hate the metal detector. I hate the line. I hate finding a place to put shoes back on. I hate finding the stuff that went through the conveyor.

I hate gates. I hate the restaurants around the gates (the bars, not so much). I hate the gate agents. I hate the check-in and boarding process.

I hate finding seats. I hate overhead bins. I hate people I don’t know sitting next to me. I hate flight attendants. I hate the safety spiel (are we going to have a water landing??? great). I hate the seat in an upright position. I hate returning to the gate for “precautionary measures”.

I hate the take-off. I hate the cloud/mountain turbulence. I hate the Fasten Seat-belt sign. I hate that sharp turn they always have to do because we had to take off in the wrong direction.

I hate the drink cart. I hate the drink prices. I hate the snack. I hate the bathrooms. I hate the movie. I hate the in-flight turbulence.

I hate the approach. I hate circling to wait for permission to land. I hate the touch-down. I hate the screeching stop. I hate taxiing. I hate waiting for a gate.

I hate deplaning. I hate the fake sincere wave goodbye. I hate the other terminal’s gate.

I hate the walk to baggage claim. I hate baggage claim. I hate baggage.

I hate rental car shuttles and/or trams. I hate rental car agents (they can take the reservation, they just don’t know how to keep the reservation). I hate finding the rental car. I hate checking out the rental car. I hate rental cars.

I hate hotels. I hate checking-in. I hate finding rooms. I hate card keys. I hate bellhops if and when they exist.

I hate hotel rooms. I hate hotel bathrooms. I hate hotel showers. I hate hotel shower soap. I hate hotel shower shampoo. I hate hotel toilet paper. I hate hotel beds. I hate hotel TVs (does it always have to turn on to the pay-per-view channel? Don’t you have enough of my money?). I hate hotel clocks. I hate hotel wi-fi (if they even have it).

I hate hotel breakfasts. I hate hotel restaurants. Hotel bars can be OK.

I hate returning rental cars.

I hate everything in reverse about airports, flights, airports again, and shuttles.

However, add all that hate up. Multiply it by 1000. And that doesn’t even come close to how much I hate boarding our puppies.

Side Note: Because our flight was so early, we had to board them late in the afternoon the day before we left. Dropping them off was bad enough (with our two pages of instructions, box full of foods, two beds, blankets, toys, and recently worn shirts - so they would not forget us). Yes, Couper barked and Godiva whined. But worse was coming home to an empty house. It was horribly quiet. Not in the barking all the time sense. Just in the lack of activity sense. There was no one shoving a toy at me. Or biting my toe. Neither Couper's Mommy or I slept well without them crawling all over us in bed. I accidentally stepped on a toy (not difficult to do) and Couper didn't come racing to it. It was very strange and very sad.

Side Note 2: On the third day of our vacation, I got a call on my cell phone from our home area code. My heart stopped. I told Couper's Mommy, "I think it might be the vet". Her heart stopped. I sheepishly answered the phone.

Caller: Hello. This is Jan from Grayhawk Animal Hospital. Is this Big Buddy?
Me: Yes [I am about to have a panic attack]
Caller: I am calling about Couper and Godiva.
Me: Uh huh [I look over at Couper's Mommy. She is terrified]
Caller: I just wanted you to know that they are doing fine.
Me: Uh, thanks [My blood pressure drops 200 points]

Now, it is great that they kept us updated. We called them the first day, and were going to call them later the third day. But that scared the crap out of us. We thought they would only call in case of emergency. I had a split second nightmare of having to authorize surgery because Couper ate Godiva.

So, a word of advice to all dog boarders out there. Don't call. And if you do, make the first words, "Your dogs are fine, just thought you should know"

Side Note 3: I hate travel. Just in case you hadn't heard. Or forgot.