Day 1: Flight

Well, if yesterday is any indicator of how today will be, I’m in trouble.

While attempting to check a bag prior to my flight last night, it was revealed that my suitcase was a whopping 54 pounds, rather than the permitted 50. It is clear now that I should not have packed so many pictures of my dog to show my host family. So, there in line at the crowded Oakland airport, I took out each piece of clothing one by one and put them on. One windbreaker, down to 53.75 pounds, one pair of jeans, down to 53.25 pounds, etc. Finally the airport employee took pity on me when I was wearing two windbreakers, a sweatshirt, a pair of sweatpants, a pair of jeans, and awkwardly holding a beach towel, and she graciously let my bag through at 50.07 pounds. The looks I received from my fellow passengers on the 79 degree evening were not those of envy. Today, to save myself the trouble at the airport, I am starting off dressed this way. On the bright side, if my checked bag gets lost, I will be able to make it a solid couple of weeks before running out of clothing.

When I arrived in my hotel room last night, I noticed a very potent smell emanating from my suitcase. After a brief moment of internal debating whether to fight or flight, I worked up the courage to open the suitcase. Immediately I was hit with a very strong scent of what I imagine a Beverly Hills housewife would smell like. Sure enough, all of my clothes were drenched in my three months' worth of hair product. The Costa Ricans aren’t going to know what hit them when I arrive wearing all of my clothing at once, holding a beach towel, and smelling very strongly of a person who is trying to compensate for something.

It is currently 3:15 a.m. and I am in Spokane, Washington, where I have just flown from Oakland, California, en route to San Jose, Costa Rica. It is evident that I need a new travel agent; I should fire myself immediately. I am enjoying the lovely one star accommodations of the Days Inn motel; apparently I missed the memo that they are currently undergoing major construction for the duration of my stay. Needless to say, after a full five hours of breathing in smoke, sawdust, and an unidentified peppery scent that continues to burn my throat, I am not feeling nostalgic about leaving. In fact, I am quite looking forward to it. To get back at the hotel, I ate the entire display of mini-muffins on my way out.

I will arrive in Costa Rica tonight at 7 p.m. (6 p.m. Pacific Time). I am eager to see what the next few hours will bring—with any luck they will bring a nap!