Hard to believe this blog has been around for two years already! Wow. This has been an incredibly fulfilling and wonderful experience.  The past year has seen so many exciting projects, including various guest posts for blogs I love and admire, writing regularly for Via-Her, being interviewed, mentioned, and quoted in some major places, and working with great companies to create content. Boarding Area, as always, has been amazing to be a part of. And readership has increased by 300%, which I am honored and humbled by.

Two years ago I started this blog because there were not enough quality resources for women business travelers. Now, not only have we answered so many questions for women (what to pack? how to pack? how to look professional on a plane? etc), but together we have created a supportive, helpful community for anyone who travels for business, men and women. Thank you for reading, commenting, emailing, and sharing Road Warriorette with friends. There is a lot of very cool stuff coming up this year, so I hope you’ll stick with me!

This story is so bad I don’t want to read it again to edit it….. so here it is in its entirety. A horrible travel experience from one of my friends. <<shudder>>

So I was flying home from Durham and was on the short portion (DFW to AUS) when they moved my seat at the very last minute.  No problem.  In fact, it seemed I had the whole row to myself. But when I sat down, I did notice a funny smell.  I looked around, sniffed some more, wasn’t sure as it wasn’t that bad and sort just smelled like “late night plane.”  Then throughout the trip I kept having something rolling around at my heels.  But I thought it was the luggage of the person behind me.  So I would sort of kick it back.  Until, I saw that the bottoms of my jeans were wet–up from the hem for about 4 inches.   I was puzzled, finally looked directly under my seat, and saw that what had been at my heels the whole time was a now degrading used airsickness bag.  So it was someone else’s vomit on my heels.  awesome.

I freaked (i have kind of a phobia about vomit, so while no one “likes” it…i REALLY don’t), told the attendant, who barely looked up from her texting to ask the person behind me if the airsickness bag she had found on her seat was used too.  It wasn’t.  She never apologized, just said she would have to call someone to clean it up.

I was pissed at this point and in an uncharacteristic fashion went directly to the gate attendant (it was by now 11 PM so no time to wash my hands first–or rip off my disgusting clothes, lest she disappear too.)  She freaked.  And I quote: “Oh yes, that is deeply disgusting.  Plus those are bodily fluids so you don’t know what blood and fluid born illnesses you were exposed to.”  Well exactly.

So she said I had to contact the website to complain.  I did.  And I got a big 3,000 bonus miles for my trouble along with a condescending letter about how the planes are white glove clean in the morning and it isn’t their fault if things get messed up along the way.  Right.

Readers, any awful stories you want to share?

During my trip from Hell to Ohio last month, I met a nice guy. He was a fellow business traveler, on his way home from Germany. He told me a story that was interesting, but scary, and I thought I would share.

After a grueling 9 day work trip in Berlin, he finally got on the plane home. When he got to his seat, there was a gentleman sitting in it. He said, “Excuse me, I think you’re in my seat.” The other gentleman pulled out his ticket, and said, “Hmmm. My ticket says this is the correct seat.” They both went up to the flight attendant and explained the situation. This is when they realized that this guy not only had the same seat as my new friend, but his ticket had my new friend’s name on it. In fact, it was the exact same ticket. This man had gone through security and gotten on the flight with a ticket not in his name, and no one had noticed.

As I write this out, I realize how preposterous it sounds. I really, really hope that this guy that I met was punch drunk and exhausted and made the whole thing up, because otherwise it is just too scary.

Recently, some close friends visited California. One of the stops they made was the Blue Diamond Almond Company in Sacramento, where they picked up some almond butter. My friend H was very excited about this souvenir, and couldn’t wait to take it back to Texas and enjoy it. Being followers of this blog, and frequent travelers themselves, they of course carried their suitcases on. As they were going through security, they took out their plastic bag of toiletries and laptops, and took off their shoes like they are supposed to. So you can imagine their surprise when the TSA agents called for a bag check, and pulled out the…….almond butter? Really? They were given the option of tossing it or mailing it to themselves. As their plane was to start boarding soon, they elected to toss it. Lame.

On the TSA website, they do state that peanut butter (so almond butter too, I would assume) needs to go in checked luggage. Okay, thanks for putting that out there. But is almond butter a liquid? They say it’s “spreadable”, so along with cheese spreads it can’t be carried on. It definitely is spreadable, so if that is what defines a liquid then it’s a liquid. I just never would equate peanut butter with, say, water. Or lotion. Or even lipstick, which would be a liquid if it melted. But then again, regular cheese would be a liquid if melted too, and I have taken cheddar cheese through security on many occasions. Okay I just confused myself into a circle. For now, TSA holds the cards so we have to do what they say. Even if it doesn’t necessarily make sense…..

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the frustrating trip I had to Ohio. I called it Part II because it was the second frustrating trip I have had to Ohio.  Here is the story of the first. (And again, I don’t really hate Ohio. Really.)

When I first arrived in Columbus, it seemed like everything was going to go smoothly. It was December, but there was no snow and the night was crisp and beautiful. I found the highway quickly, and had my MapQuest directions in hand (before I had a GPS) as I started the two-hour drive. I followed them perfectly, and was feeling good after the first hour of driving. Things went downhill from there though.  I got lost, wandering around the hills that border Ohio and West Virginia. I stopped to ask for directions, and the gas station clerk seemed shocked I was taking the route that I was. I ended up driving back and forth over the river, finally calling the hotel in desperation. The woman told me where to go, and then my phone went dead. (I also did not have a car phone charger. Of course.) Praying that I would remember the specifics, I kept going. Three and a half hours after I left the airport, I arrived at the hotel. As I was going to bed that night I thought, tomorrow will be fine as long as it doesn’t snow.

Famous last words. I woke up to a world covered in white fluff. Now remember, I am from Texas. We don’t have snow in Texas, and if we ever get an ice storm my city shuts down. I do NOT know how to drive in snow. Naively hopeful, I called my contact to see if the office was closed. She laughed. After getting ready (and praying just a little) I left for the office. Luckily, it was very close and I managed to get there without incident.

After successfully completing my meetings, I left to head back to the airport, with the advice and warnings I had received about driving in snow circling my head. Go slowly. Don’t slam on the breaks. If you skid, turn into the skid. Lots of room between you and the car in front of you. Etc. I left early, and had five hours before my flight. This turned out to be very lucky because it took me four and a half hours to get to the airport. I drove along at 15-20 mph, down snowy highways and small mountain roads. At one point we were delayed for an hour because of an accident. It was in. sane. Remembering, of course, that I don’t know how to drive on the snow. So I was extremely tense during the entire drive, and when I finally reached Columbus was incredibly grateful. Until I missed my exit.

At this point I freaked out. I was exhausted, tense, and SO ready to get on that plane and head home. When I called my company’s travel department for help, the very nice woman calmed me down and looked up the directions to the airport from where I was. “I’m never going back to Ohio!” I told her. “If I call you guys and tell you I have to go there, you say no!” Probably not my best moment.

I finally got to the airport. My flight was supposed to leave in fifteen minutes, but, in my first stroke of luck for the day, was delayed. The second stroke of luck was getting my upgrade. It’s amazing what a first class seat and a glass of wine can do for the psyche. When I finally did make it home, I crawled into bed. Right before I passed out I thought, I am never going back there.

And I managed to avoid Ohio for almost three years……

The Home Warrior was flipping through the news this weekend, when he said: “Come here, you have got to see this.” The article from NBC News read:

“LONDON — British Airways apologized on Friday after a crew member mistakenly played an emergency message warning Hong Kong-bound passengers that the plane they were on was about to plunge into the sea.

About 275 passengers on a Tuesday flight out of London’s Heathrow Airport heard the message: “This is an emergency. We may shortly need to make an emergency landing on water,” NBC News reported.

“People were terrified, we all thought we were going to die,” passenger Michelle Lord, 32, told Britain’s The Sun newspaper, which first reported the incident.  “They said the pilot hit the wrong button because they were so close together.”

“I can’t think of anything worse than being told your plane’s about to crash,” the Sun quoted another passenger as saying.”

I believe the word you’re looking for is ,”Wow.”

Even though this was posted on Youtube over a year ago, this is the first time I’ve seen it. And I immediately had to post it so all of you can enjoy it as well. This is so great! I hope I fly on this guy’s plane sometime.

Happy Friday everyone!

Okay, maybe I don’t actually hate Ohio. In fact I have family there, and I spent some great times as a child playing with cousins in North Canton. But it seems like every time I go there as an adult I have the worst trips. My first trip to Ohio for work almost three years ago was so awful I vowed never to return (Why I Hate Ohio Part I, which I will be sharing next week). However, when my team requested I go back I thought, Surely it can’t happen again. Plus I’ll be with my co-worker, J, so everything will be fine. Right? Uh, wrong.

After spending nine hours of transit time (airport, plane, airport, plane) to get to Columbus, I was actually feeling pretty good. The flight attendant on my second flight gave me a bag of almonds! The flight was smooth! The day was still beautiful! Surely everything would continue to go well. I met up with J and we got on the road. We knew that it was at least a two hour drive to the town where our meetings were going to be held, and we would probably get there around 11pm.

Since it had been several hours since either  of us had eaten, we stopped in a small town outside of Columbus to grab dinner. We even got to sit on the patio since it was such a nice night. We were visiting and talking and enjoying margaritas, when suddenly there was a commotion from the tables in front of us. “Oh no! Is that your blue car?” the lady asked us. Trying our best to remember exactly what color the rental car we got was, it took a second before we remembered. “Yes, that’s our car. Why, what happened?” The lady answered: “The kids in that SUV just backed into your car and then drove off!” What????? We run over to the car, and sure enough. A giant dent is in the left rear bumper. So we call the sheriff’s office, and a deputy comes out to make the report. Within a few minutes, however, a man in a truck stopped to tell the deputy that some punk kids had tried to steal bikes from him. Soon after, another deputy came to finish with us, and our first deputy left to chase the bike thieves. I never knew Ohio was such a hotbed of crime!!

When we got on the road again it was after ten, and we finally arrived at our hotel after midnight. After passing out for a too-short six hours, we we were up again to go to our meetings. Which did not go that well, but whatever. We left around 3 to drive back to Columbus. This was earlier than we had planned because we had to stop at the Budget Rental Car counter and fill out some papers due to the hit-and-run from the night before. It is a lucky thing we left early! Somehow, in the winding roads and hills of East Ohio, we got lost. The highway signs are confusing out there, and the GPS couldn’t pick up our exact location due to all of the hills. As soon as we realized we were lost we stopped and asked for directions. Turned out we were sixty miles off track. O. M. G.

We made it back to the airport 55 minutes before the flight was supposed to take off. Plenty of time, right? Not enough time to enjoy the glass of wine and small meal I had been daydreaming about, but at least I didn’t have to worry about making my flight.  So I went to print out my boarding pass. And what did I find? The machines weren’t working. None of them. We all had to wait in line while the ticket agent had someone else print our stuff remotely. I realize that situation could have been way worse than it was, as there were only about ten people that he had to print for in front of me, but it was definitely stress-inducing.

By the time I got to security, I had ten minutes and was relieved to see a very short line.  I thought, my luck is finally changing! I will have plenty of time to grab a sandwich before my flight! Then I saw the nudie-scope and thought, dangit! Luckily (I guess?) they were randomly choosing some people to go through the normal metal detector and some people to go to the nudie-scope, and I was one of the few who went through the normal one. Yes! My luck really is changing!  For those of you who haven’t had to go through the nudie-scope yet, it takes much longer than the normal metal detector. The TSA agent x-raying the luggage was clearly not paying attention, because he was shooting the luggage through much more quickly than people could pick it up. So fast, in fact that the luggage started to bunch up on each other, and bins started to pop upward from the impact. I ran over and started grabbing my stuff, but I was too late. The bin holding my laptop popped up, and my laptop fell on the floor.

At this point I thought the day couldn’t get any worse. Then I got to my gate and saw that they are boarding early (due to the malfunctioning ticket machines), so I have no time to get food. This is the point where I text the Home Warrior: “I hate this day.”

Once I arrive in Dallas, I was able to get on the standby list for an earlier flight home. I am the last standby to get on the flight, and I think (again): Finally. The bad is over and I am almost home. Until the captain comes over the loudspeaker and tells us some lightbulb needs to be replaced, and it’s going to take twenty minutes. Is that twenty minutes real time, or twenty minutes airline-mechanic time? You be the judge. One hour later we got in the air, and we landed at home later than I would have had I stayed on my original flight. I finally walked in my door at 11:30 and crashed on the couch.

Next time they tell me to go to Ohio I am NOT going. (Sorry for writing a novel.)

Many people have been talking about this, and it has been all over TV and the internet. Although I recognize that this would have been distressing for some, I think the whole situation is hilarious.  I considered about doing some commentary, but Stephen Colbert said everything way funnier than I ever could. So watch, and enjoy. *Not safe for work, unless you have headphones.

Recently I went to  the Home Warrior’s family reunion. While sitting around chatting with many members of his family, we somehow got on the subject of ironing. (As some of you may have realized, I am a big believer in traveling with clothes that don’t need to be ironed. There are all kinds of shirts, pants, skirts, suits, dresses, and everything else out there made of material that won’t wrinkle–take that with you instead of the linen jacket.) During the ironing conversation, my brother-in-law told a story about his traveling days that,while not my typical reason for preferring wrinkle free clothing, was a shining example of why  needing to iron can stress you out.

My brother-in-law used to have a job where he was on the road a good percentage of the time.  He tried to bring clothes that didn’t wrinkle, knowing that wrinkly clothes are a hassle that travelers don’t need. One time, however, he grabbed the wrong pants. When he pulled them out of his suitcase, they were so wrinkled that he knew he couldn’t go to the office the next day without ironing. After going to the front desk to borrow the one iron (don’t you just love staying in rinky-dink motels out in the middle of nowhere?) he returned to his room and started ironing. Except that his pants were made of some weird blend of poly-something and cotton and needed to be ironed on cool.  He had the iron turned all the way up, and the pants literally started to melt to the iron. By the time he realized what had happened, it was too late and there was a gaping hole in the middle of his pantleg. Needless to say, this precipitated a frantic dash to the nearest Target (which was not close by) at 9pm to get something he could wear the next day.

So the moral of the story is: bring clothes you don’t have to iron! And when you do iron, make sure you put it on the right temperature……