Classic

So Leah and I are driving to the Portland Airport at 3:00 am. I'm excited. She's tired. We're talking about how much more organized I am. We share some laughs about this because I found my travel checklist in the car which I only found just this morning having spent the last few days using my mental checklist. We have a great drive to the airport complete with that sense of urgency, unrealized profundity, and, of course, some laughs about the many classic Brandt moments of the last few days spent together. We get to the airport, hug, cry, and say goodbye.

I show up at the airport at the recommended 2 hours earlier than my international departure- 3:30 am. And, of course, the fucking airlines people aren't even there yet. Classic. I am second in line with this short, friendly woman and we begin to commiserate about the hilarity of the hurry up and wait nature of airports. We get into it. I ask her about where she's headed. Next thing I know we are having this great conversation about her well-traveled, worldly daughters (four of them!). I can tell she's grateful for the pleasant distraction from the waiting- and I'm pleased for the same reason. She tells me that her youngest traveled to Oaxaca and taught Spanish there a couple of years back!? She tells me about her daughter who lived as a Peace Corps volunteer in Nepal. We have a wonderful conversation. Only took me about 5 minutes to have my first nice travel conversation- Classic.

So at 4 am the desk workers show up. I let the older, nervous couple behind me go in front, for which they are extremely grateful. I wait my turn and step up to the counter. The woman asks, "Where's  your final destination?" I respond, "Mexico City". She asks, "May I see your passport?" 

By now, if you are reading this blog, you know me, have met me, or at least have some knowledge of my amazing capacity to lose things. This is not to mention that I have already dropped several serious hints in this brief post.  You catching my drift? That's right- after conversations this past weekend with dad about how much more organized I am; after hearing from mom how proud she is that I was able to organize myself enough to apply to 9 different PhD programs; and after minutes prior having a conversation with my sister about how I'd really thought of even somewhat small details (like getting a spanish-english dictionary ahead of time)- I reached into my carry on, pulled out my money belt, unzipped it, and pulled out...

...copies of my passport. 

I dig a little deeper. I look in my checked luggage. I look again in my carry on. And then it hits me (and this is CLASSIC)- I left my passport laying on the copy machine at the local branch of the Portland Public Library.!!!!!!!!!!!!! In the effort to prepare for the instance of losing my passport (Mom I hope that you aren't experiencing PTSD symptoms from this posting)- I lost my passport. You can't write this shit. CLASSIC.

First reaction:

Oh my God.

Second reaction:

Insert slightly- too- loud- for- 4 am-- and -just- having- realized- leaving- one's- passport Ike laugh.

Third reaction:

Figure it out Brandt.

The Airlines worker reassures me that she can get me on a later flight. So I chill out (even though, for whatever reason, I'm already pretty relaxed). She does the usual click this and click that- looking for the next available flight. She asks if I think I can be back later today or if she should book me for Friday. I'm thinking I should give myself the extra time to find my passport (not to mention have a little more breathing room for making absolutely sure that I have everything I need!). So she books me for a flight that leaves at a more reasonable morning hour on Friday, arriving at the same time in the afternoon in Mexico City. ClASSIC.

So I'm sitting at a cafe table in the Portland Airport, listening to Pandora, eating a bagel, drinking coffee, and smiling. I just checked my email and the Portland Library Branch director emailed me to say the she has my Passport. Phew. I just checked the Public Transit website to figure out my route back to Leah and Gabes' place. And I'm already preparing for how to best surprise Leah and Gabe. I'm thinking about just hanging out on the front porch with a cup of coffee ought to do the trick. Mostly I'm savoring the entertainment value of my favorite foible...what was that word again? Oh, well. 

Without completely justifying my forgetfulness, I am struck by just how many stories have come from this well-documented weakness of mine. I think of all of the times when mom, dad, and I would go to the lost and found at the end of the school year and pull out sweatshirts, socks, pants, and backpacks- all with my name printed neatly on the tags (thanks Grandma). I am also humbled by how the process of getting better at things that don't come easily- is truly a process. CLASSIC.

So for those of you who still have the patience to read my ranting and raving and forgetting- I am here in Portland until Friday morning. I will also send out emails to folks to let them know of the current situation and make sure folks aren't waiting unecessarily to hear that I got into Mexico. 

If you need to reach me- you can get me through Leah's cell phone- 541 232 1082. 

CLASSIC.