The Anti-Shutterbug

I bet some of you are hoping to see pictures from my trip. You'll be waiting a long time. I didn't take any blog-friendly pictures. For one, I have my digital camera -- and I'm broke. That is significant because you need to have new batteries and a memory stick to make that really worth your while. I bought neither. Once I buy both, I bet I will be a picture fiend. I do typically love the idea of pictures. And I did take a couple, but it was more to show off my new bright and shiny present (I do love small, shiny objects). That and I took pictures of people -- like four pictures.

Where are my pictures of Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, double decker buses and the red phone booths? Nowhere. I could have drawn them from memory before I got there. They are so cliche, so common in every tourist thing that I didn't need to take pictures. Instead, I liked sitting there basking in the Thames, with Big Ben lit up on a calm, drizzly night. You can't take a picture of how that felt. So why bother? Oh sure, I could have gotten some zany pictures of me getting on the Tube with a silly face or something. But I don't need help looking like a tourist.

Fear not. Someday, I'll get the memory stick, batteries, and more than a holiday to take some nice artsy pictures in London. But that will be several years from now when I live there. Then it'll just be the backdrop. I can't wait.

Off Topic

Ha. I know you probably want to hear more about the UK. Alas, you get bad pictures from the soccer tournament that I was in just before I left. Fun. :)

Apparently this is my concentrating face. It takes a lot of work.

The above two pictures demonstrate that I have a one track mind. I don't take my eye off the ball. Most likely in that top picture, the ball was being thrown in, hence my upward facing eyes. If anything is going through my mind, it is "Ball, ball, ball, ball..."

Look at the form. :)

The infamous photo that I believe was just some sleazy photographer saying, "Yeah, girls, lie on top of each other. That'll be hot -- I mean, cute. Cute." And of course, I'm on the friggin' bottom. Always.

When Did That Happen?

Yesterday, I attended a work international pot luck dinner... while horribly jetlagged. Fun times. Those of you know me in the least know that I am a chatty Kathy. Apparently this condition intensifies during jetlag. Who knew? While I was away, the romantic implications of my trip to the UK (about as personal as I'm going to get in my rather public blog) had spread around the building rapidly. I was attacked with questions, which was actually kind of nice seeing as I am an attention whore.

In the course of the questioning, I explain how I had seen London for the first time while away. Some comments about London that were told to me: "Overpopulated, overrated cesspool," "You spent a whole weekend there?" "At least your whole holiday wasn't wasted in London." After a while, I mentioned that I intend to live there in a few years for a few years. There was an awkward silence. It was then that I decided that I am a city girl. I never knew. I mean, sure. I like the city. But I also enjoy camping, outdoors, space, country, wildlife, quiet, etc. However, I realised that the people who live in Dunedin live here because it has advantages of "town" though it is quite small. Residentially it's normal, but the city aspects are concentrated into one avoidable area. This was an important discovery. However, it has now tainted my perspective.

I came home and was sick of TV (I am sure my passionate relationship with the TV will be rekindled, but for now I am stuck on music and books), so my flat was more quiet than usual. There were bloody crickets outside making a racket. I was frustrated. Then I heard leaves rustling, birds chirping, and rain falling. I had to resist the urge to tell nature to shut up.

I am still not a city girl from here to death, but I am missing that London like whoa. But it does help me understand myself in wee Dunedin.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Ugh. I already wrote this ridiculously long entry once. Blogger freaked out on me. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I was already ordered to start writing again (thanks, Jaime). So here goes. :)

I am finally back in from the UK. I say finally not because I was gone for so long, but because it is a friggin' long trip. After consulting a globe, we decided that Dunedin and Liverpool are almost (but not quite) on opposite ends of the earth... you know, literally. I like to emphasize... a lot... that it was 29 flying hours alone, not including layovers or the other modes of transportation. I don't like travel to be boring, so I threw in as many kinds of travel as I could. First, I had to take a train from Liverpool to Manchester by myself. Let me explain. This shouldn't be a big deal. I can handle international airports in my sleep (and sort of did over Christmas with my mysterious illness that makes me barely remember being in LAX, let alone handling a transfer). I figured out with my mom and aunt how to do the Swedish train station into Norway with no English signs or speakers. The tube was easily figured out. I have driven over most parts of the US, usually by myself. But. I don't do buses and I don't do trains. Not by myself. If I have to stand in one place while bunches of options zoom past me and I have to pick the right one, I freak out. (Don't ask why the tube is not an issue. I don't know. I liked the novelty perhaps?) Luckily, a train was chosen for me that was stopped and waiting for me in Liverpool, and the Manchester Airport was the end of the line. As in, you get out of the train and you are in the airport.

But, I worried the entire time. What if I had gotten on the wrong train? What if... a lot of things. Which explains why I burst into tears at the International Departures desk when they told me I needed an Aussie visa for my one hour layover in Sydney. They were unkind and demanded that I needed this thing. Luckily, since I cried, they didn't make me pay. Which is good because I couldn't afford it. Then I was off on an 8 hour flight to Dubai. Dubai has a friggin' mall, food courts, reclining chairs in the lounges, and Rolex wall clocks. They are loaded. They are also nice and efficient and I was pleased the entire time I was there. The coffee shop took all forms of currency... from anywhere in the world. Nice. Then 14 hours to Sydney, 3 hours to Christchurch. Then a 7 hour bus trip (the good kind of bus, where they pick you up and your name is on a list next to where you are supposed to be dropped off at) to Dunedin. After all that, I am reminded how much I love traveling. You may want to know why. I will tell you in list form. :)

• Emirates: this was the airline I took, based out of Dubai. They are fantastic. It's just so good. They are so professional, and the planes are incredible. I highly recommend them to anyone, though they only fly in and out of JFK, as far as the States goes. If you are anywhere else, fly Emirates.
• I am easily amused: The TVs had about 40 TV shows with several episodes of each, so you could have mini-marathons of things like Friends, the Simpsons, Everybody Loves Raymond, etc. They had about 40 new release movies as well as 40-ish "classics" which included things like High Fidelity and Edward Scissorhands. Now those are my kind of classics. They also had classic videogames like Pong and Tetris and Pacman along with some newer style games. It was also like you could pause and start shows and movies at will. No more watching all the same movies at the same time. Sleep when you want, be entertained when you want.
• I am easily impressed. Let me tell you about this plane. The vegetarian meal was good. Don't underestimate that. It was seasoned, tasty, healthy vegetarian food. (As a side note, I now like soy milk.) Near the toilets, they had a little nozzle and cups for drinking water. If you were thirsty, you could get up and drink to your heart's content. No more dehydration. We were served food every couple hours, no matter what. The plane had little vents in the ceiling that every few hours, would hydrate the air. It wasn't like raining, but it was like a fine mist that came out. They have a natural lighting scheme. They close all the windows and the "nighttime" has little stars on the ceiling (pinpricks of light) so it's bright enough to walk down the aisles, but it's still dark. As it gets closer to "morning" they have actual dawn colours. Really subtle, but I was awake once and it's gorgeous. Reds and oranges that eventually come into "natural" lights. Then they serve breakfast. :) The staff usually spoke an average of 10 languages between them all. The seats actually reclined. I cannot express. Sometimes, it felt more like my couch got incredible service than that I was on a plane. Booze and Friends marathons, with mushroom and capsicum wraps every few hours. Mmm.
• Single serving friends: One guy I sat next to laughed for ages because of my cool airplane talent. I can be sound asleep and if a flight attendant comes by and offers anything, I will wake up instantaneously with a "Yes, please." I usually don't care what it is. I also sat next to a couple from India and we talked about what that big bit of the US is that exists between LA and NYC. He was shocked. One girl and I bonded on the trip over because we were in a row of four, and the two seats between us were empty. We cuddled so we could both stretch out. I don't even know her name. There was a flight attendant who loved me on one flight and he made sure I got extras of everything: blankets, pillows, mushroom wraps (they were so good), chocolate, water. I liked him. Also, people would hang out in the back big area (you know what I mean?) with the staff and everyone would talk and hang out and eat and drink. We were in it for the long haul and we were in it together. :) One couple from Sydney helped me find sharks on the downward camera as we were coming into Sydney. The sharks are big, dark blobs kind of. I saw three.
• Free crap: I am so easily impressed. They gave me a free pair of socks, a toothbrush, and an eyemask and I acted like I won the lottery. I even took the menu they offered (even though my food wasn't on the menu) just because it was pretty. And free. Everytime I went to the bathroom, I used the lotion they had in there... just because I could. I was tempted to take a box of tissues.
• People watching and eavesdropping: Planes and airports were made for this kind of thing. I will share two stories. One is of a Jamaican family. The mother was such a stereotypical large black Jamaican woman. Her two sons hung around her doing things for her. If she dropped something, she would snap her fingers and they would rush around to pick it up. If she wanted something, she would tell her kids and they would rush off to help. They were about 8 and 10 and they weren't afraid of her, or resenting her. They just loved their mom and you do stuff for your mom. It was cute. Eventually, she had her son sit near me (there was a table and he was whinging, so she told him to sit on it). He said, "I don't wanna sit all the way over there. There are a lot of people." She replied, "Sit next to that nice girl. She doesn't look scary." I was the nice girl! And he sat! The last story is this funny conversation overheard as we were landing in Christchurch.

Woman: Would you look at all that water!!

Me (all of my comments were thankfully in my head): Yeah, it's the ocean. Just like the oceans we have been flying over for the past 20 hours.

Man: And look at the farmland.

Woman: Look at it!! There is so much of it!! Have you ever seen so many farms in all your life?! And look how it comes right up to the mountains like that!!

Me: Yeah, it's a big old section of farmland. Did you expect it to stop way before the mountains or way after? I can't figure out why this is astonishing to you. Where are you from that they don't have farms?

Woman: Ha!! Would you look at that? That river just cuts through the farms!!

Man: Well, it probably helps with irrigat-

Woman: But look at it!! How cute!! It just sweeps right through!! Sweep!!

Me: Do. Not. Shoot. This. Woman.

Man: Well, it is pretty.

Woman: There is just so much farmland! I can't get over it!! Oh! Honey!! Look!! Sheep!!

Me: Okay. Where are you from that you've never seen oceans, rivers, farms, or sheep before? (They had a weird accent.)

Man: Yeah, the sheep are nice. It's a nice scene to take in.

Woman: That's it. This is so much more beautiful than home. I am never going back to Canada again. New Zealand is where I want to live now.

Me: Good Lord. Yes, I can imagine that this is all new for you. Mountains and bodies of water? Yeah, those don't exist in Canada. Oh, Canadians.

And on that note, my friends, I'm spent. More stories to come. In summary, I adored the UK. Absolutely adored. In love. That's me.

No, You Heard Me Right

This morning (after I was again awakened by a Midas customer), I desperately had to pee. I don't think this is a unique phenomenon. Many people pee first thing in the morning. The thing I find funny is that lying in bed, you don't have to pee. You stand up? Bingo - Peetown.

Regardless, I wandered into my bathroom and lifted the seat. In my morning blurred eyes, I thought there was a fly on the inside of the bowl. Well, that wouldn't do. I tried to encourage the fly to fly away. It kind of jumped back and forth. So I leaned in for a closer look. Well, what do you know? Spider. By now, the urge to pee had taken over my body. My only thoughts were of peeing. I didn't want to kill the spider, but it is way beyond my call of duty to scoop a spider out of my toilet bowl, for goodness' sake. So I did what I could. I flushed. I watched the spider thrown about by waves. Finally. Wait, what's that? The dying, struggling spider was only bashed by the waves, not actually taken down into the recesses of the bowl.

At this point, I was almost doubled over by the pain of having to pee. Hearing a toilet flush does nothing for the relief of a bladder. After the spoken consolation of "Well, spiders can't fly... Look out below!", I peed on him. That's right. It was him or me and I'm much bigger than he is. I peed on a spider. Is there a special section of hell dedicated to me? Not only did I try to drown him in a toilet, I then peed on him.

As the queen of all segues, I am glad to be getting out of this spider infested flat for a couple weeks. There better not be spiders in the whole of the United Kingdom. If there are, I hope I hear tiny spider voices as I approach saying, "Watch out for that one, she's a pisser." I'll leave you with that thought -- see you in a couple weeks. :)

Hello, Midas?

Customer service tends to be a bit unusual around here. Either I get someone who is SO helpful, or I get people that are worthless. When I was setting up my phone/internet, I got a guy who was above and beyond. He asked me what I wanted my phone number to be. I have never had a preference. I'll just learn it for a year and go on my merry way. But he insisted on something "catchy". I hesitate to put my number in a blog, so we'll creatively say that my number is basically 566 6667. That's a lot of 6's. Apparently, the number 566 6666 used to be a taxi company back in 2000 and we had an extended conversation about if that would be a problem for me. Boldly, I decided not. No one warned me about Midas.

Every morning for the past three mornings, someone has called between 8 and 9 am. I answer with a gruff morning voice to hear, "(pause)... Is this Midas?" I resist the urge to tell them that a gruff American girl with morning voice answers the Midas phone with an irritated "Hello?" Instead, I politely tell them they have the wrong number. I just looked up their number - 566 6676. Grr. Now it's not that I'm not awake at this hour. But it's the hour that I decide to either be productive, rising at 8 on the dot, or be lazy and roll out of bed at 9. These people have stolen my hour. Maybe I should help Midas advertise their number better. You know, put signs up around town.

Maybe then they'll let a girl sleep in a little, guiltfree.