I’m not really sure how to approach this blog entry, hence the double title. I considered talking about how dear hubby and I spent our 11 hours between checking out of our hotel and boarding our flight to Chicago. But that would leave out so much of the zest of our day. Going with the latter title would leave out chronology, and that Honey simply wouldn’t do. So, in an attempt to juggle both, on with the show!
How does one spend an entire day in a semi-familiar town, without any obligations or rental car? Consider this blog entry to be “Complete Idiot’s Guide to Wasting Time; Worrying about what strangers think of you is waste #1”
Starting My Day
Eager beaver that I am, I decided to get up and use the wonderful workout facilities located in the Lower Level of Tower Three in the Captain Cook Hotel, nestled in the heart of downtown Anchorage. If you ever visit, you simply must, must, must stay here. You won’t be disappointed. The reason why I won’t miss a workout session while staying here is because of this:
my dumb luck would have it, a strip of electrical outlets were shut off for the day so that necessary updates could be made to the lower level. Naturally, the one set of equipment that was using these outlets was the treadmill bank. No running. Pouty face. Instead, I put in a solid 60 minutes of bitching on the elliptical machine. Because of wifi and a subscription to Netflix, I entertained myself by catching up on Season 5 of Desperate Housewives.
A quick shower, shave, and repacking of luggage later, Dear Hubby and I said goodbye to our hotel room and the Captain Cook.
Diamond Center Mall
Any red-blooded American who has been quarantined from cinemas 80% of the year will flock to any movie theater that has a pulse to slap down upwards of $10 for a ticket to view the latest piece of
crap entertainment. And that’s just what we did. The weekend before the release of “The Hangover II,” we were able to choose between about five iffy movie selections.
Before either movie however, Dear Hubby and I had to feed our faces. We have a guilty pleasure. If I ran the circus, I would choose this dining establishment every night of the year for dinner. Some may thumb their noses at it, but in my mind, for the money, it doesn’t get much better than this.
More time wasting
Be honest. Am I a hat person?
Finally made it to the airport
Could all of these people be here for us???
Apparently, the Anchorage Aces, a minor league hockey team, won the national championship sometime in the past few days. I didn’t bother to look this up. Anyways, crowds of
white trash super fans showed up at the airport to give the team a hero’s welcome. It would have been nice had they left their cow bells, bull horns, and tackiness at home. We literally had to push our way through the mass to get to our ticket window to check in.
Cut to me going through security. Shoeless, purseless, laptopless I wait for my belongings on the opposite end of the conveyor belt. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
“Ma’am? Are these your belongings?”
“Yes they are.”
“Could you please come over here with me as I go through them in more detail? All I ask is that you monitor me, but do not touch.”
WTF??? I’m not sure what the issue is, but apparently something in the bucket containing my purse, shoes, hoodie, and laptop case raised some suspicions. So much so that literally everything had to be removed from my purse and thoroughly examined. Two double-duty searches later, I was cleared as a non-national threat. The culprit?
Apparently, this thoughtful gift from my mother, a palm-sized silver angel was thought to be a weapon. The
Mr. Magoo TSA agent manning the surveillance equipment confused her with this: a traiditional Alaskan meat carving knife.
We have about thirty minutes before we board our flight. I fully intend to nap throughout the seven and a half hour flight and leave the foolishness of today behind.