In Dreams

Do you ever have those moments where you think things are okay in your mind, and you are just fine with the way they are and think that maybe if one had more time one would sit down and really think things out but its really not urgent or pressing or whatever?
Then one night you will be just chilling out about stuff and things and not worried at all about anything in particular, and then you go to bed and have a dream in which things happen and people appear and there are events and sequences and interactions and then you wake up in the morning and it all just makes sense? All this stuff that you thought might take some serious figuring out eventually just turns out to be so simple and you are kicking yourself for not realising it earlier, even though its not even the time for it now, let alone earlier and may only be the half promise half possible time for it more-than-one years down the track from now, but at now at least you know and somehow that makes it all a bit better.

Yeah, me too.

Phew.

Yes its great to be home. 

Yes I miss my friends in the US.

No, I don't miss the heat. 

No, I haven't finished my dissertation. 

Yes, I am going to be a teacher. 

No, I haven't recovered from the jet-lag.

Yes, I miss my wireless internet access.

No, I don't miss the crap food. 

No, I haven't uploaded my photos to Flickr yet cos I can't get my laptop to work on my mum's internet connection. 

Yes, I am excited about getting on with my life. 

Strange, I have been feeling short of breath. It's almost like I can't really breathe until I get back here, so what is normal breathing anywhere else feels like being short of breath here. 

Gotta love that clean green nuclear free New Zealand air.....

On the phone to ISP tomorrow about installing a second plug for the internet in my room. There is a good chance I will be residing at Chateau Mum for some time.... at least until she gets tired of me and kicks me out, then I'm off to Chateau Dad. I have become so spoilt with internet access and I'm really not so ready to give it up. 

Is that sad?

Angry angry flight gods

I don't know what I did to piss them off, but it must have been something good.

The most recent examples: Last week, flying from Syracuse to Memphis, via Charlotte, North Carolina.
The flight left Syracuse on time (miracle!!!) but by the time we got to Charlotte the bad weather had caused many delays. So, we sat there on our poky wee plane for half an hour until we could get a gate. Fun times.
I was supposed to wait in Charlotte for maybe an hour and a half, but the delays meant that I had to hot-foot it to the gate to catch the flight to Memphis. Luckily I checked the boards for the times, and because of the weather, my next flight was delayed for an hour and a half. Time for a wee feed.
Finally, after a second delay of another 40 minutes (yes, that's two hours and ten minutes) I get on the plane to Memphis, where dear Sunshine and Van-Nasty were waiting for me and the other members of our party, wee Sethie and HKD.

We then proceeded to rock Bonnaroo, but that's a story for another day.

From Memphis, I took off for LA, via Phoenix, for a 9.30pm flight from LA to Auckland. The flight to Phoenix was fairly uneventful, except for the 45 degree heat that blasted me as I got off the plane onto the airbridge.

In Phoenix I got on my plane headed to LA, and we taxied out to the runway, at which point the captain informed us that we had to head back to the gate cos the plane was broken.
Mechanics ensued. Plane was allegedly put back together. We taxied out to the runway again.

Rinse and repeat.
Clearly the duct tape they used to fix the plane was no match for the Arizona heat, and we had to get off the plane and find a new one.

At this point I realised that the chances of me making the 9.30 from LA were rapidly shrinking. Off to the US Airways desk!!!
The pretty lady there informed me that we were going to get a plane soon and that I could get on the 10.30 from LA to Auckland, and she would call them to arrange it all while I got on the new un-broken plane to get the hell out of Phoenix.
I finally make it to LA at 9.25pm. Wait in line practically eating the luggage trolley while waiting for my bags, so I could load them up, take them to Terminal 2 and check in with Air New Zealand. Check in completed at 9.45pm. Continue to security.

Happily the usually insane security at LAX was fairly quiet, which was good because I was foul and tired and smelly and ready to crack some skulls.
I arrive at the gate just as they announce the boarding, simultaneously singing the praises of the nice people at Air NZ who are so accommodating and didn't charge me the $150 to change my ticket; and wondering what I did to anger the flight gods to the extent that I clearly have.

The occasions upon which I get on a plane that takes off and lands on time and meets all proper connections are considerably fewer than situations like the above.

I suppose I should consider myself lucky that my bad-flight-luck extends only as far as delays and missed connections, rather than the exploding-planes alternative.

But anyway, now I'm in Auckland airport waiting for my flight to Christchurch so I can see my mum and have a shower and wash all my clothes and get on with my life.
Boarding in half an hour...... fingers crossed.

Leaving, on a jet plane; don't know when I'll be back again.....

Its D-Day.
I'm leaving.
It's weird. Doesn't quite feel real.... which makes sense because that's how it was when I left to come here.

It's been fun.
Fun, brutal, lonely, fascinating, enriching, isolating, lively, gruelling, exhausting and one hell of a learning curve.

More adjectives to follow. I have to negotiate the DMV now. Urgh.

Hot Hot Hot Hot McHotter

Damn. Its hot.
And its not just hot. Its humid. Thankfully I have a spray bottle of cold water, a large glass of sprite with ice, and a fan directed right at me.

So..... I'm leaving this town on Wednesday. Gone baby gone.
All moved out of my flat, with zero thanks to my Most Considerate (/end sarcastic font) flatmate, who not only claimed to clean the bathroom and didn't, left a whole bunch of stuff, including about 40 books, for me to get rid of. No phone calls or emails to ask if it was ok that she left them, just a note. So I moved all the stuff, cleaned the entire place from arsehole to breakfast, took care of all the final bills, then emailed her to say that her stunt was a bit average.

Now I am ensconced at the Smith's house, which means Caleb and Maggie the Mega Dog 24-7. Caleb gets progressively cuter and happier everyday, and has now mastered the art of crawling forwards. Because Matt and I have been taking Caleb out and about so much, people presume that he is my baby, so when they ask me how old he is, and I say "ummm.... I dunno..... Matt? Is Caleb 7 months?" they think I am a terrible parent.

I've reached the stage where I am thinking about all the things (ok, people) that I am going to miss once I've gone. Its a bit sad, but then I realise that all the ones that really count will still be my friends, and are all coming to visit me in NZ.

But before then..... Bonnaroo!!!!! This time next week we will be rocking out, although its entirely likely that I will be collapsed in a heap on the ground due to the heat.
Seriously. My people are not equipped for anything above 25 C. I come from a long line of blue eyed freckled people from cold rainy places. Heat + me = messy.
You have been warned.