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Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
I heart comments...
You know what makes my day? Whenever one of my faithful readers leaves comments for me about what I wrote! And the icing on this cake? When the reader says who they are! Even if it's just a nickname!
Don't disappoint me!
Don't disappoint me!
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
London/Dublin 2007! Day 1, Part 2
Ah, yes, day 1, part 2: where to begin?
So mom, Al, and I left Gatwick and went to the Gatwick Express train service, which links Gatwick directly to Victoria Station in London. Quite handy, if you ask me! The train ride was about 30 minutes each way, and my mom bought my return trip ticket, so it didn't cost me a thing! Hallelujah.
We took our seats in the regular class compartment (no first-class for us, shoot) and struck up a conversation with a couple of Americans travelling from Nebraska. They had no idea what they were doing and didn't have a map or anything...just a dazed look on their faces. Al and I intervened and got them pointed in the right direction with our map, which was a very handy pop-up map that I had picked up in 2000 when I was studying in Edinburgh at the University of Edinburgh, and told them to go to a bookstore after they went to their hotel to pick up a current map. I'm telling ya, if you're travelling, that pop-up map is where it's at! It fits in your pocket but has all sorts of helpful info on it. Highly recommended!
Once we arrived at Victoria Station, all hell broke loose. Turns out, this was the morning of the bombing at Glasgow Airport, and the day before there was a failed car bombing in London, so security was at an all-time high. But that's okay with me! I want to be safe! Unfortunately the city of London is friggin' huge, so extra security = slow moving people, and lots of them. So there were tons of officers wondering around the tube station, and there were long waits to enter the tube station from the train station, as security officers were giving everyone the once-over. Most people were understanding about all of this. One gal behind us was getting antsy and confronted an officer, who was super rude back to her, so she called him rude, and he called her ugly! Classic.
There were some tube stations closed for repairs that weekend as well, so Victoria Station was especially busy, as it was a hub. Luckily I took note of this--more to come later on that. Al was all in a tizzy and excited to be in London but trying to act cool; instead, he just was being a dope. He was walking too fast for everyone and getting separated from the group. At one point I yelled at him across the tube platform, "AL! Settle down!" That seemed to work. Al thinks he knows everything but he doesn't really pay attention to the crucial details. Case in point: he wanted to navigate our way to the hotel by getting off at Waterloo and transferring to a different tube line. I looked at him and said, "Well, we can't do that." Him: "Why?" Me: "Because it's closed this weekend, as the signs and announcements have been saying." Him: "Oh." I rest my case. Case closed.
So we navigated our way to the hotel, which was located near the Queensway tube stop in the Earl's Court area of London. The hotel, Central Park Hotel, was just a couple of blocks away on Queensborough Terrace, across the street from a Thai restaurant, and in the middle of a row of Victorian houses. Very London-ish. Since it was about 11:00 AM and our room wouldn't be ready until about 3:00 PM, we dropped our luggage off and decided to hit the road, starting our adventure right there and then. We decided to first go to the London Eye, since mom had bought tickets for us to ride online before leaving home, meaning we could cut to the front of the line and leave everyone in our dust. This was a lovely idea! Only problem: it was pouring outside and the Eye was shut down! Boo! Well, it turns out this wasn't so bad, because Al was being a poop again (he wanted to start his Wimbledon adventure right then and there) and said he didn't want to go anyways, so mom got a refund on her tickets and pre-purchased tickets for me and her to go on it Monday morning. By this point, my jeans were soaked from about mid-shin to the foot, so I rolled them up high-water style and kept trudging along. Damn this rain!
We quick walked along the Thames and over to Westminster Abbey and Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. I would get a sky-view of these sights from the London Eye in a couple of days, and since all three of us had seen these sights before on previous (but separate trips), we stopped and nodded at it quickly a la Clark W. Griswold at the Grand Canyon in the movie Vacation, and we were off to our next stop!
We then took the tube to the Knightsbridge area to go to Harrods, aka Mecca. We were sort of limited to what we could do on this day, due to the rain, so we decided to cater our day towards inside activities. Shopping is definitely something we could handle! So we went to Harrods and tried to take it all in. Well, as best we could. Everyone else had the same idea as us--the place was packed! That's not really saying much, because London is always busy and more so on a Saturday afternoon, but the rain really brought out the crazies. Plus there were tons of people in town for Wimbledon, making it that much busier. But there's no place I'd rather have been at that time! We didn't look at the whole store, but rather we made a beeline for the Food Hall, which is the greatest part of the store. There's a ginormous deli section, a massive bakery, plus a section that sells signature Harrods food items for purchase in take-home tins and decorative packaging--the perfect souvenir! My mom bought some tea and jams for grandma, while I got a little piggy-bank shaped like the red mailbox with chocolate cookies in it. I have a piggy-bank from there that I got when I was studying abroad, so rather than keep the piggy-bank, I gave it to my cousin Meredith. She was very happy to get it because it looked like the mailbox in a book that she has. Again, big hit!
We went through the deli and picked up a salmon sandwich that looked tasty, and since we were all hungry, it looked even more tasty than it usually would have looked. After a few more minutes of ogling the dessert case, we left and hit the road again. We started on down the street away from Harrods and the insanity therein, when we came across a real treat: there was a tour bus parked across the street that had the name of the tour company on the side. Normally, not a big deal, but the tour company was called Happy Al's! Which was an oxymoron, seeing as how Al was not happy that day. But we made him stand in front of it on this side of the street and take a picture with it:
So, by this point, hunger was taking over, so we popped into a Pret a Manger, which is a fairly fancy sandwich shop...well, at least the prices lead you to believe so. Granted, the dollar has been doing so poorly against the pound for years, but it was especially bad when we were there! Oh well. The tourists gotta eat! So we each had a little something to eat and drink and we also had the salmon sandwich from Harrods--not the best thing I've ever tasted, but fairly decent. Although it was very fishy smelling, more so than other salmon I've had in the past. But, like I said, fairly decent.
After we left here, we went and walked around for a while, heading towards Buckingham Palace, through St. James Park, over to Trafalgar Square, on to Leiceister Square, Piccadilly Circus, and finally ending up at the tube station at Green Park. This sort of became the hot tube spot for us, as we usually ended up over in this area at one point or another during the day, as there were many shops in this area (Boots the Chemist!). Along the way, while walking back from Piccadilly Circus on Piccadilly, we stopped at a flea market of sorts that was set up in the courtyard of a church (although I'm not sure if it's a church any longer or not), and I got a panoramic picture from a guy who was quickly closing up shop, as the rain was coming down at a pretty good clip, and rain does not treat photographs well! So that was my souvenir of the afternoon, seeing as how the piggy-bank from Harrods went to Meredith. Huzzah!
Seeing as how it was now about 5:00 and we were soaked, tired, and hungry, we got on the tube and headed back to our hotel. Our room was finally ready, so we grabbed our luggage and went upstairs. Well, this room was very basic: 2 twin beds, one rolling twin bed, a small desk, a tv mounted on the wall, and a tiny bathroom that had one of those countertops that extended into the bathtub itself. But we knew we weren't going to be in the room very much, so it worked out just fine for us. Our plans for the evening were to just go get some dinner and then come back to bed, so I didn't change out of my wet jeans--I just rolled them up a little more, brushed my teeth, and laid down on my bed for a few minutes. As Lenny would say, I was resting my eyes! But after about 20 minutes of this, mom and Al woke me up and we left for dinner at Wagamama.
Ah, yes, Wagamama! I remember it fondly. Years ago, my good friend Aimee, aka black devil, and I were two young and dumb flatmates at the University of Edinburgh and we went to London on our way to the mainland during our 5 week long spring semester break. Her roommates from USC were studying in London and let us crash at their flat, and one night they had us come with them to Wagamama. What a treat! Wagamama is a Japanese-style noodle house that has a modern feel to it--all white walls, minimal decoration, etc. I am a big fan of the chicken ramen noodle dish there, and Al went there when he was in London with his AP Euro class in high school, so we told mom that's where we had to eat for sure when we were in London.
Anyhoo, to get there, we walked through Hyde Park, as that was adjacent to our hotel, and mom wanted to see Kensington Palace (located in Kensington Gardens within Hyde Park), since Lady Di had once lived there and she hearts Lady Di. So does my friend Sony, and I tried to find her a commemorative magnet but had no such luck. But, I digress! We walked through the park, which was empty due to the rain and cold except for the few brave joggers and tourists. We made it to the palace but it was closed, so we quick walked around the perimeter of the palace and additional fenced-in garden, then continued onwards to Wagamama.
This particular Wagamama was located in the Kensington district of London, on High Street, and on the 3rd floor. Normally I wouldn't mention this, but walking up marble steps that were slippery from the rain all while wearing slipper Crocs made this task an adventure! Note to readers: don't wear Crocs. This trip has turned me against this form of footwear as an option for wearing outside of the house! They should be worn only for yardwork and the occasional doctor's appointment, when you are too sick to be bothered with tying laces!
Alas, I digress once again. We made it up the stairs and found ourselves a place to sit. Seeing as how we were soaking wet, we were all happy to be sitting in a warm restaurant, no matter how many hardships we faced coming up the stairs. We all had a beverage, although I think mom had wine while Al and I stuck with non-alcoholic beverages (I know, hard to believe!). I ordered the aforementioned ramen dish, as did mother, while Al had a salad and another dish (it might have been some sort of udon noodle dish). The place was pretty busy so our waiter was a little ragged, but he brought everything out to us piping hot, and that's what it was all about. We made fast work of the food, seeing as how it was really about 1:00 AM to our body clocks and we were sleepy, and everything tasted good...well, again, we slurped everything down really fast, so maybe it wasn't that good after all. After settling the tab (note to readers: if you pay by credit card, you write the tip in first, sign, and then they run that amount through and bring you a receipt so you don't have any surprises a la Enjoy! restaurant in AV-town), we cautiously headed downstairs and made our way back to the hotel.
I took a shower when we got back, mainly to warm up, and learned that my new jeans (which were so new they hadn't been washed yet, except for the London rain) gave me a rash all over my legs and up onto my hips! Piss! I didn't realize this until after I got out of the bathroom and finished hand-washing my jeans after the shower, and sat down in my bed to put on lotion, when I pulled up my pajama-pant leg and saw a pink rash all over myself. And it was itchy like a mutha-f*cka, too! So I took a good dose of Benadryl, or whichever generic equivalent I had with me, and turned in for the night. What a day or two!
So mom, Al, and I left Gatwick and went to the Gatwick Express train service, which links Gatwick directly to Victoria Station in London. Quite handy, if you ask me! The train ride was about 30 minutes each way, and my mom bought my return trip ticket, so it didn't cost me a thing! Hallelujah.
We took our seats in the regular class compartment (no first-class for us, shoot) and struck up a conversation with a couple of Americans travelling from Nebraska. They had no idea what they were doing and didn't have a map or anything...just a dazed look on their faces. Al and I intervened and got them pointed in the right direction with our map, which was a very handy pop-up map that I had picked up in 2000 when I was studying in Edinburgh at the University of Edinburgh, and told them to go to a bookstore after they went to their hotel to pick up a current map. I'm telling ya, if you're travelling, that pop-up map is where it's at! It fits in your pocket but has all sorts of helpful info on it. Highly recommended!
Once we arrived at Victoria Station, all hell broke loose. Turns out, this was the morning of the bombing at Glasgow Airport, and the day before there was a failed car bombing in London, so security was at an all-time high. But that's okay with me! I want to be safe! Unfortunately the city of London is friggin' huge, so extra security = slow moving people, and lots of them. So there were tons of officers wondering around the tube station, and there were long waits to enter the tube station from the train station, as security officers were giving everyone the once-over. Most people were understanding about all of this. One gal behind us was getting antsy and confronted an officer, who was super rude back to her, so she called him rude, and he called her ugly! Classic.
There were some tube stations closed for repairs that weekend as well, so Victoria Station was especially busy, as it was a hub. Luckily I took note of this--more to come later on that. Al was all in a tizzy and excited to be in London but trying to act cool; instead, he just was being a dope. He was walking too fast for everyone and getting separated from the group. At one point I yelled at him across the tube platform, "AL! Settle down!" That seemed to work. Al thinks he knows everything but he doesn't really pay attention to the crucial details. Case in point: he wanted to navigate our way to the hotel by getting off at Waterloo and transferring to a different tube line. I looked at him and said, "Well, we can't do that." Him: "Why?" Me: "Because it's closed this weekend, as the signs and announcements have been saying." Him: "Oh." I rest my case. Case closed.
So we navigated our way to the hotel, which was located near the Queensway tube stop in the Earl's Court area of London. The hotel, Central Park Hotel, was just a couple of blocks away on Queensborough Terrace, across the street from a Thai restaurant, and in the middle of a row of Victorian houses. Very London-ish. Since it was about 11:00 AM and our room wouldn't be ready until about 3:00 PM, we dropped our luggage off and decided to hit the road, starting our adventure right there and then. We decided to first go to the London Eye, since mom had bought tickets for us to ride online before leaving home, meaning we could cut to the front of the line and leave everyone in our dust. This was a lovely idea! Only problem: it was pouring outside and the Eye was shut down! Boo! Well, it turns out this wasn't so bad, because Al was being a poop again (he wanted to start his Wimbledon adventure right then and there) and said he didn't want to go anyways, so mom got a refund on her tickets and pre-purchased tickets for me and her to go on it Monday morning. By this point, my jeans were soaked from about mid-shin to the foot, so I rolled them up high-water style and kept trudging along. Damn this rain!
We quick walked along the Thames and over to Westminster Abbey and Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. I would get a sky-view of these sights from the London Eye in a couple of days, and since all three of us had seen these sights before on previous (but separate trips), we stopped and nodded at it quickly a la Clark W. Griswold at the Grand Canyon in the movie Vacation, and we were off to our next stop!
We then took the tube to the Knightsbridge area to go to Harrods, aka Mecca. We were sort of limited to what we could do on this day, due to the rain, so we decided to cater our day towards inside activities. Shopping is definitely something we could handle! So we went to Harrods and tried to take it all in. Well, as best we could. Everyone else had the same idea as us--the place was packed! That's not really saying much, because London is always busy and more so on a Saturday afternoon, but the rain really brought out the crazies. Plus there were tons of people in town for Wimbledon, making it that much busier. But there's no place I'd rather have been at that time! We didn't look at the whole store, but rather we made a beeline for the Food Hall, which is the greatest part of the store. There's a ginormous deli section, a massive bakery, plus a section that sells signature Harrods food items for purchase in take-home tins and decorative packaging--the perfect souvenir! My mom bought some tea and jams for grandma, while I got a little piggy-bank shaped like the red mailbox with chocolate cookies in it. I have a piggy-bank from there that I got when I was studying abroad, so rather than keep the piggy-bank, I gave it to my cousin Meredith. She was very happy to get it because it looked like the mailbox in a book that she has. Again, big hit!
We went through the deli and picked up a salmon sandwich that looked tasty, and since we were all hungry, it looked even more tasty than it usually would have looked. After a few more minutes of ogling the dessert case, we left and hit the road again. We started on down the street away from Harrods and the insanity therein, when we came across a real treat: there was a tour bus parked across the street that had the name of the tour company on the side. Normally, not a big deal, but the tour company was called Happy Al's! Which was an oxymoron, seeing as how Al was not happy that day. But we made him stand in front of it on this side of the street and take a picture with it:
So, by this point, hunger was taking over, so we popped into a Pret a Manger, which is a fairly fancy sandwich shop...well, at least the prices lead you to believe so. Granted, the dollar has been doing so poorly against the pound for years, but it was especially bad when we were there! Oh well. The tourists gotta eat! So we each had a little something to eat and drink and we also had the salmon sandwich from Harrods--not the best thing I've ever tasted, but fairly decent. Although it was very fishy smelling, more so than other salmon I've had in the past. But, like I said, fairly decent.
After we left here, we went and walked around for a while, heading towards Buckingham Palace, through St. James Park, over to Trafalgar Square, on to Leiceister Square, Piccadilly Circus, and finally ending up at the tube station at Green Park. This sort of became the hot tube spot for us, as we usually ended up over in this area at one point or another during the day, as there were many shops in this area (Boots the Chemist!). Along the way, while walking back from Piccadilly Circus on Piccadilly, we stopped at a flea market of sorts that was set up in the courtyard of a church (although I'm not sure if it's a church any longer or not), and I got a panoramic picture from a guy who was quickly closing up shop, as the rain was coming down at a pretty good clip, and rain does not treat photographs well! So that was my souvenir of the afternoon, seeing as how the piggy-bank from Harrods went to Meredith. Huzzah!
Seeing as how it was now about 5:00 and we were soaked, tired, and hungry, we got on the tube and headed back to our hotel. Our room was finally ready, so we grabbed our luggage and went upstairs. Well, this room was very basic: 2 twin beds, one rolling twin bed, a small desk, a tv mounted on the wall, and a tiny bathroom that had one of those countertops that extended into the bathtub itself. But we knew we weren't going to be in the room very much, so it worked out just fine for us. Our plans for the evening were to just go get some dinner and then come back to bed, so I didn't change out of my wet jeans--I just rolled them up a little more, brushed my teeth, and laid down on my bed for a few minutes. As Lenny would say, I was resting my eyes! But after about 20 minutes of this, mom and Al woke me up and we left for dinner at Wagamama.
Ah, yes, Wagamama! I remember it fondly. Years ago, my good friend Aimee, aka black devil, and I were two young and dumb flatmates at the University of Edinburgh and we went to London on our way to the mainland during our 5 week long spring semester break. Her roommates from USC were studying in London and let us crash at their flat, and one night they had us come with them to Wagamama. What a treat! Wagamama is a Japanese-style noodle house that has a modern feel to it--all white walls, minimal decoration, etc. I am a big fan of the chicken ramen noodle dish there, and Al went there when he was in London with his AP Euro class in high school, so we told mom that's where we had to eat for sure when we were in London.
Anyhoo, to get there, we walked through Hyde Park, as that was adjacent to our hotel, and mom wanted to see Kensington Palace (located in Kensington Gardens within Hyde Park), since Lady Di had once lived there and she hearts Lady Di. So does my friend Sony, and I tried to find her a commemorative magnet but had no such luck. But, I digress! We walked through the park, which was empty due to the rain and cold except for the few brave joggers and tourists. We made it to the palace but it was closed, so we quick walked around the perimeter of the palace and additional fenced-in garden, then continued onwards to Wagamama.
This particular Wagamama was located in the Kensington district of London, on High Street, and on the 3rd floor. Normally I wouldn't mention this, but walking up marble steps that were slippery from the rain all while wearing slipper Crocs made this task an adventure! Note to readers: don't wear Crocs. This trip has turned me against this form of footwear as an option for wearing outside of the house! They should be worn only for yardwork and the occasional doctor's appointment, when you are too sick to be bothered with tying laces!
Alas, I digress once again. We made it up the stairs and found ourselves a place to sit. Seeing as how we were soaking wet, we were all happy to be sitting in a warm restaurant, no matter how many hardships we faced coming up the stairs. We all had a beverage, although I think mom had wine while Al and I stuck with non-alcoholic beverages (I know, hard to believe!). I ordered the aforementioned ramen dish, as did mother, while Al had a salad and another dish (it might have been some sort of udon noodle dish). The place was pretty busy so our waiter was a little ragged, but he brought everything out to us piping hot, and that's what it was all about. We made fast work of the food, seeing as how it was really about 1:00 AM to our body clocks and we were sleepy, and everything tasted good...well, again, we slurped everything down really fast, so maybe it wasn't that good after all. After settling the tab (note to readers: if you pay by credit card, you write the tip in first, sign, and then they run that amount through and bring you a receipt so you don't have any surprises a la Enjoy! restaurant in AV-town), we cautiously headed downstairs and made our way back to the hotel.
I took a shower when we got back, mainly to warm up, and learned that my new jeans (which were so new they hadn't been washed yet, except for the London rain) gave me a rash all over my legs and up onto my hips! Piss! I didn't realize this until after I got out of the bathroom and finished hand-washing my jeans after the shower, and sat down in my bed to put on lotion, when I pulled up my pajama-pant leg and saw a pink rash all over myself. And it was itchy like a mutha-f*cka, too! So I took a good dose of Benadryl, or whichever generic equivalent I had with me, and turned in for the night. What a day or two!
BW3 in AV--Smoke Free!
Yesterday was a great day for humanity...MN restaurants went smoke free! God bless America. Well, at least those of us that don't smoke are saying that. Sorry!
So the whole gang was there: Deb, Sarah OK, Jeremy, Ron, myself, and, of course, The Sherman family--Matt, Betsi, and stud muffin Cade. He's so cute! Definitely the big star of the night. Betsi and Cade showed up last, since they wanted to make an entrance. But we were all waiting for Cade to make his first smoke-free appearance, so it was worth it.
Both Matt and Betsi pulled out their brag books and showed off Cash (CAde SHerman, get it?) in all his glory. The highlights: a pic of him in the plastic sit-up chair that showed off his chubby legs; a black-and-white shot of him smiling and looking like a 40-year-old man before he entered the "Biggest Loser" house. The pics were a big hit!
Needless to say, the next big hit of the night was the smoke-free environment, which was awesome. Why did it take this long to get the smoking ban rolled out to Dakota county? Geez! It was nice to get home and not reek of smoke. Although I managed to spill a cup of blue cheese dressing down my pants and onto my blue down vest (yes, it's a little Marty McFly of me, but who cares), so I smelled a little like that. Oops.
Betsi started going on about how she has never watched "Project Runway" and didn't get it when we were doing our Heidi Klum impersonations. It's only the greatest show ever! She will definitely have to come to the season premier viewing party on Nov. 17. I can't wait!
Here are some pics of our mini-celebrity from last night:
Sarah OK is so funny!
Dancing with dad
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
London/Dublin 2007! Day 1, Part 1
Hello again, my pretties! Oh, to think of the fun I've had this summer...well, it makes me feel old. But I am, so screw it!
As you may or may not know, this summer I went to London and Dublin (and surrounding cities/towns) for vacation and to join in the celebration of my high school friend's wedding on July 4. Gotta keep the American spirit alive in foreign countries! So I packed up my blue suitcase and hit the road on Friday, June 30, to London via Chicago and Dublin.
I flew from Minneapolis to Chicago via Northwest, and then Chicago to Dublin via Aer Lingus. I flew on Aer Lingus one other time, when I was studying abroad in Edinburgh--my friend Nathalie and I went to Dublin to meet up with her friend Pete for a jolly good time. This plane I flew on from Chicago to Dublin was a brand new Airbus, so I had one of those nifty tv screens in the headrest plus my own remote control for playing video games (or sudoku, which they had in the games section). I, however, spent the entire flight watching season 6, part 1, of "The Sopranos," as I had not yet seen these episodes. The gal next to me spent the entire flight reading the "New York Times" and playing sudoku on the handheld game set. She was a bore. But I didn't care, because I was happy watching my tv show!
Anyhoo, we landed in Dublin at around 5:45AM, and I made my way through customs, collected my bag, and made my way towards the check in desk for Ryanair, Europe's version of Southwest Airlines. I don't know if you've ever been to the airport in Dublin before or not, but apparently everyone flees the country on the weekend. The place was crammed full of drunken Irishmen! Seriously! I took one step off of the escalator from the baggage claim area and was immediately hit with a wall of boozy air! It was like getting a contact high! There were little Conan O'Brien look-a-like kids running around, frustrated dads pushing baggage trolleys chock full of bags (in case you have not seen this phenomenon in person, every single British and Irish person feels the need to rent a trolley at the airport and lug their luggage around, instead of just carrying it or buying a suitcase with rollers on it), trashy looking moms were yelling at the kids to behave, and then there were those of us foreigners who walked around in a daze. Lucky for me, I got pointed in the direction of the Ryanair check in desk by a nice airport police officer, and was able to walk right up and check in. Ryanair has a ridiculous 15 kg weight limit on all checked baggage, which is about 31 lbs, so I had thinned my bag out somewhat in Chicago, getting it down to 15.2 kg. The gal didn't say anything, so I wasn't charged the excess weight fee, and I continued my journey towards the security line.
Here's where it gets ugly/sweaty. So the line/queue for security check in was like a maze, with four or five lines converging but not going anywhere, and then hapless airport workers would introduce a new line to nowhere, and everyone got frustrated. On top of that, it was about 75 degrees in there, but super humid, so everyone was sweaty and disgusting. It was not a pleasant sight. I was wearing a black fleece pullover courtesy of the MN Soccer team via Debbie D., and I was a sweathog. Thank goodness there were no hotties there, only the family members described above. However, when it was my turn to go through security, I got an extra search because of my WMD's, so the female guard had to pat me down a little bit. But, hey, if it keeps the country safe, then so be it! :)
Well, I made it through to the gate for Ryanair, which has a "first come, first serve" boarding policy...so people start lining up at the gate door about one hour before boarding time. Seeing as how Southwest doesn't fly to Minnesota, I have not experienced this process before, so I started talking to a nice Irish woman sitting next to me, and she explained the whole thing. A light went on in my head, so as soon as she stood up to get in line, I followed suit. Luckily, I was one of the first people on the plane, so I was able to choose a window seat toward the rear of the plane, and since they boarded via both the front and back exit, that meant that I would be one of the first to exit the plane as well. In the middle seat next to me sat a young guy (about 16 or so) who was American, and he was traveling with his dad, who was British. They were going to London for the Concert for Diana, which was being held the next night.
So off we left for London! It was a rainy morning in Dublin, which isn't saying much, especially considering it had been raining for about 20 straight days by this point. The flight was fairly uneventful--a bit bumpy, but nothing major. That is, until we get close to Gatwick, our final destination. We descend and are probably no more than 1,000 feet away from the runway (I could make out words on the signs in the carpark at the foot of the runway) when the plane speeds up and whoosh! We take off again. It seems that our friendly pilots didn't have clearance to land! The kid sitting next to me woke up, turned to me and asked what happened, then asked me to wake him up again when we landed. So we circled around the airport and finally landed about 10 minutes later. This part of the flight was pretty bumpy, so I was quite glad when we landed, mainly because the pilot didn't seem too trustworthy at this point!
We landed and I made my way towards customs and baggage claim. Since I had already arrived into the E.U. in Dublin, I went straight through to baggage claim, but as I was walking through, I heard someone calling my name, and look over to see mom and Al waiting in line for customs arrival! They had just landed from Minneapolis, as they took a direct flight (I had originally planned to spend my entire trip in Ireland, but my mom and brother decided to tag along, so a stop in London was added). So I went upstairs, waited for them to get through customs, got my bag, and then we were off to the train station.
(Day 1, part 2 coming soon!)
As you may or may not know, this summer I went to London and Dublin (and surrounding cities/towns) for vacation and to join in the celebration of my high school friend's wedding on July 4. Gotta keep the American spirit alive in foreign countries! So I packed up my blue suitcase and hit the road on Friday, June 30, to London via Chicago and Dublin.
I flew from Minneapolis to Chicago via Northwest, and then Chicago to Dublin via Aer Lingus. I flew on Aer Lingus one other time, when I was studying abroad in Edinburgh--my friend Nathalie and I went to Dublin to meet up with her friend Pete for a jolly good time. This plane I flew on from Chicago to Dublin was a brand new Airbus, so I had one of those nifty tv screens in the headrest plus my own remote control for playing video games (or sudoku, which they had in the games section). I, however, spent the entire flight watching season 6, part 1, of "The Sopranos," as I had not yet seen these episodes. The gal next to me spent the entire flight reading the "New York Times" and playing sudoku on the handheld game set. She was a bore. But I didn't care, because I was happy watching my tv show!
Anyhoo, we landed in Dublin at around 5:45AM, and I made my way through customs, collected my bag, and made my way towards the check in desk for Ryanair, Europe's version of Southwest Airlines. I don't know if you've ever been to the airport in Dublin before or not, but apparently everyone flees the country on the weekend. The place was crammed full of drunken Irishmen! Seriously! I took one step off of the escalator from the baggage claim area and was immediately hit with a wall of boozy air! It was like getting a contact high! There were little Conan O'Brien look-a-like kids running around, frustrated dads pushing baggage trolleys chock full of bags (in case you have not seen this phenomenon in person, every single British and Irish person feels the need to rent a trolley at the airport and lug their luggage around, instead of just carrying it or buying a suitcase with rollers on it), trashy looking moms were yelling at the kids to behave, and then there were those of us foreigners who walked around in a daze. Lucky for me, I got pointed in the direction of the Ryanair check in desk by a nice airport police officer, and was able to walk right up and check in. Ryanair has a ridiculous 15 kg weight limit on all checked baggage, which is about 31 lbs, so I had thinned my bag out somewhat in Chicago, getting it down to 15.2 kg. The gal didn't say anything, so I wasn't charged the excess weight fee, and I continued my journey towards the security line.
Here's where it gets ugly/sweaty. So the line/queue for security check in was like a maze, with four or five lines converging but not going anywhere, and then hapless airport workers would introduce a new line to nowhere, and everyone got frustrated. On top of that, it was about 75 degrees in there, but super humid, so everyone was sweaty and disgusting. It was not a pleasant sight. I was wearing a black fleece pullover courtesy of the MN Soccer team via Debbie D., and I was a sweathog. Thank goodness there were no hotties there, only the family members described above. However, when it was my turn to go through security, I got an extra search because of my WMD's, so the female guard had to pat me down a little bit. But, hey, if it keeps the country safe, then so be it! :)
Well, I made it through to the gate for Ryanair, which has a "first come, first serve" boarding policy...so people start lining up at the gate door about one hour before boarding time. Seeing as how Southwest doesn't fly to Minnesota, I have not experienced this process before, so I started talking to a nice Irish woman sitting next to me, and she explained the whole thing. A light went on in my head, so as soon as she stood up to get in line, I followed suit. Luckily, I was one of the first people on the plane, so I was able to choose a window seat toward the rear of the plane, and since they boarded via both the front and back exit, that meant that I would be one of the first to exit the plane as well. In the middle seat next to me sat a young guy (about 16 or so) who was American, and he was traveling with his dad, who was British. They were going to London for the Concert for Diana, which was being held the next night.
So off we left for London! It was a rainy morning in Dublin, which isn't saying much, especially considering it had been raining for about 20 straight days by this point. The flight was fairly uneventful--a bit bumpy, but nothing major. That is, until we get close to Gatwick, our final destination. We descend and are probably no more than 1,000 feet away from the runway (I could make out words on the signs in the carpark at the foot of the runway) when the plane speeds up and whoosh! We take off again. It seems that our friendly pilots didn't have clearance to land! The kid sitting next to me woke up, turned to me and asked what happened, then asked me to wake him up again when we landed. So we circled around the airport and finally landed about 10 minutes later. This part of the flight was pretty bumpy, so I was quite glad when we landed, mainly because the pilot didn't seem too trustworthy at this point!
We landed and I made my way towards customs and baggage claim. Since I had already arrived into the E.U. in Dublin, I went straight through to baggage claim, but as I was walking through, I heard someone calling my name, and look over to see mom and Al waiting in line for customs arrival! They had just landed from Minneapolis, as they took a direct flight (I had originally planned to spend my entire trip in Ireland, but my mom and brother decided to tag along, so a stop in London was added). So I went upstairs, waited for them to get through customs, got my bag, and then we were off to the train station.
(Day 1, part 2 coming soon!)
Monday, September 17, 2007
Photos from Napa Valley!
Selected pics, for selected memories...or those things I can remember...
Hootie hoo!
Here I am in the wine cellar...or "Heaven," as it should be known!
After the Amazing Race sprint up the hill at Alcatraz...that's not sunburn!
Behind bars, where they should be. Just like Martha Stewart, without the primness.
Bird's eye view of Sony!
Chilling with Goldy...what's up?
Doug's forehead...loser! (see blog post below for the back-story on that!)
Sony with her "cape," aka Gopher t-shirt.
Our home away from home: The Claremont.
Sony and I have mastered grape picking. But what will 5-year olds do for work?
Hootie hoo! Here I am in the wine cellar...or "Heaven," as it should be known!Betsi hearts wine.
Bottoms up!
After the Amazing Race sprint up the hill at Alcatraz...that's not sunburn!Behind bars, where they should be. Just like Martha Stewart, without the primness.Bird's eye view of Sony!
Chilling with Goldy...what's up?
Doug's forehead...loser! (see blog post below for the back-story on that!)Sony with her "cape," aka Gopher t-shirt.Thursday, August 30, 2007
33 in Napa Valley! Day 5
FINALLY the day has come for me to post day 5! Can you believe it? Almost a year later and my memory is still as sharp as a tack!
Our day started off in the usual way--getting up when Mother told us to. We had a lot of stuff to accomplish that morning! First off, we had to get all packed up, since we were going over to the Cal-Berkeley campus for the 'Sota Social BBQ, followed by the game, and then off to the airport for the red-eye back to good ol' MPLS. So we all went about getting ready...I was dragging a little bit, seeing as how I threw down the most Stoli Doli in the bar the night before. But it was so yummy! Can you blame me?
Deb went downstairs to get a football autographed by the team, as part of the auction at the BBQ. Well, she was met by the bitchy recruiting coordinator, Shannon something-or-other, who yelled at Deb, "NO! This is game day! Do not bother the team!" But was our mother intimidated by her? Hells no! Off she went to the players directly: "Hey, Jimmy, would you sign this football for an auction?" Playa: "Sure." And so on and so forth.
While she was downstairs, Betsi, Sony, and I were packing our haul of souveniers (mainly from the Coach store...check!)--Betsi bought a very nice Coach woolen jacket that had to take up residence in my luggage, as hers was full. At some point, the bell boy or porter or whatever the P.C. term is these days showed up when we weren't expecting him--I was posing for the camera, football between my pom-poms [tee hee], imitating Deb asking the players for autographs. I haven't decided if that picture will make the blog or not...
Anyhoo! So we got all packed up and went downstairs, where we carefully avoided the Dirty South wedding going on in one corner (nasty Tucker Carlson and his league of gentlemen), and piled into the waiting SUV to go to Berkeley. On the way we saw Buch and said "HI!" He was already stressing out over something. Or maybe he was just being his usual self...I am not sure. [see above mention of Stoli Doli]
The 'Sota Social was lovely. It was held on campus in the plaza of some museum, with pork provided by the MN Pork Council, or whatever they call themselves. I don't remember if we had swag bags, but we all did end up with pork thermometers! Deb put Sony and me to work selling Gopher t-shirts to pay for our hotel room. She was busy hob-knobbing with the big shots, while Betsi manned the check-in table with our fellow criminals Theresa and Doug. Who says you can't sell t-shirts while drinking Miller Lite? Certainly not me!
There were some lame-o Cal students in the dorms overlooking the plaza we were standing in, up on the 15th floor or so, who put their computer skills to use by printing up signs that said, "Gophers Suck" and "Bears eat Gophers;" obviously they were enrolled in creative writing classes. Look, we weren't there to win! We were there to have a good time! Geez! But the biggest loser of the day comes later on in the story.
Off we went to the stadium! It was probably about 60 degrees outside, the sun was setting, no rain--very nice weather for watching a game. We walked up and down and up and down and up again many flights of stairs and little ramps to get to our seats, which were very nice. By very nice, I mean that they were in a good location. Benches are just not comfortable! Deb and I explored the food options: we had steak sandwiches (okay) and garlic fries (not too good). No beer here! Poo.
So the Gophers started to tease us--they scored first, and then also ran a kick-off back for a touchdown, but that was all they had for us. No worries--I'll watch the freaks in the stands. We were about 2 sections over from the Cal student section, and this was quite the sight. I don't mean that in a good way. They had these preppy boys leading the students in cheers...not like cheerleaders, but like military propaganda guys from Hitler's gestapo. They wore blue oxford shirts, khaki shorts, yellow and blue striped ties, and they had microphones and would yell, "I want you to cheer! One, two, three, Go Bears!" or some other bullshit, so the boring Cal students would respond, because they need to be told what to do, I guess. I thought it was horrible! I much prefer the student section at the Dome, where they pass around 4 foot Nut Rolls for everyone to eat! Much more creative!
Then there was a group of three guys who were drunk and walking up and down our section, making fun of us for being Gopher fans and losing the game. I'm sorry, did I miss roll call on the sideline? Because I don't think the fans were playing, it was the team. "Student Athletes." So Deb got pissed and reported them to security, who told them to take a hike. Maybe this was a good move after all, because then they came to apologize to us and tell us to come to the hotel bar next to the stadium, claiming that they owned it and they'd buy us some beers. Naturally our ears perked up to this, so we decided to check it out.
As you can only imagine, the Gophers got spanked, so we left and were waiting outside the gates for our whole crew to show up. The Cal fans were some of the biggest assholes I'd ever seen. Not a single person went by without yelling at us, "You suck!" or something like that. I can't think of a single occasion where anyone I've known has gone up to a fan from a visiting team at a Gopher game and yelled at them that they suck. I don't care that you like the other team; I don't like your team! You should have a good time, but I do hope you lose! But the Cal fans were just plain creeps about it. The best encounter happened with Betsi and Doug. They were helping load some stuff into the trailer that was driving back to MN, and some deaf guy came up to them and yelled out, "LOSER!" But, since he was deaf, it was more like, "LOSE-AH!" And he was putting up his hands to his head in an "L" shape, making him look really dumb. How lame are you that you do that? Seriously.
Well, maybe they'll like us if we drink beer. So off we went to Henry's, the hotel bar! There was a small beer tent set up in the back, but we were getting no love back there (again, see asshole fans mentioned above), so we went inside and ordered some beers. The guys from the stadium who claimed to own the bar came around and actually did offer us some free beers, so they went up a notch in my book. However, shortly after we settled into a little corner to stand around and talk to our new friends Gina (pronounced "ji-nah," like in 40 Year Old Virgin, which she did not appreciate) and her fiance who looked like Joe Rogan from "Fear Factor," a fight broke out between an innocent Minnesota fan and some drunk Cal fan! Seriously! The Cal fan was totally out of control! Okay, so it's been a year since it happened, and I'm sure neither one is innocent or more to blame than the other, but all the Cal fans were total jerks, so I'm just assuming this guy was too! At one point, I even had to get in the middle of them because none of the homies in the bar would step up to the plate! Geez! Needless to say, the place cleared out a little bit after this, so we were able to find an actual hi-top table in the bar area to stand at while we drank our beers and were verbally assaulted by the Cal fans.
Thank goodness we had a change of scenery! We moved into the bar area and found the hidden pocket of cool Cal fans. They were actually nice to us! I am pretty sure it all started from one of them staring one of our sets of Goldy Gophers, but I started talking to a group of guys at a neighboring table, telling them about how awful everyone was to us, and they were so nice and not total jerks that I gave them one of the extra pork producer thermometers. To remember the good people of MN by. The next thing I knew, they bought a pitcher for us, to make up for our bad experience! Granted, one of the guys was engaged to a gal from MN and went to the U himself, but still, it felt nice to know that they weren't all total a-holes!
Sony was off in the other part of the bar, having the time of her life, hair all fluffed out, lips all glossy, talking to a group of guys. On our way into the bar, Sony grabbed an extra "Let Your 'Gopher' Spirit Out" t-shirt from either Deb or Betsi to wear over her shoulders like a preppy girl. Never mind the fact that it was a short-sleeved t-shirt! Science be damned! So she was prancing around like Supergirl with that t-shirt on her shoulders. Well, she then decided to just layer it over her other shirt, as it wasn't staying on her shoulders too well (hmmm...wonder why...), and within 2 minutes, she had some of those guys at her side, "reading" the script on her shirt. Or staring at her jub-jubs.
ANYHOO, she starts gabbing away with those guys. One of them decided to pull out the big guns and go with the line, "I'm the mayor of Berkeley." That was met with a giggle and a hair fluff. Mother, aka Deb, put us on a 30-minute warning or so. We had the redeye flight at midnight to catch, and it was about 8:00 or so at this point. Sony and I went about slamming beers, because that's what we do, especially when given a warning! But partners-in-crime Mark Allen and Doug were not having it: they kept buying pitchers and when Deb would turn away, they'd fill up mine and Sony's glass! Ding dang! We were having such a great time, socializing with the only nice people in Berkeley, that Sony and I didn't want it to end! We were convinced we would just stay and catch the next flight! Until Deb and Betsi said they'd leave without us...so we chugged the rest of the beer and hit the road. Luckily, we did manage to eke another 30 minutes or so out of our stay in Berkeley, so it was probably around 9:00 when we left for the airport.
About 15 minutes outside of Berkeley, with about another 15 minutes to go to the airport, I was hit with such a wave of urination urgency that I was afraid I was going to die. Seriously. When I was in 9th grade, I was on the debate team [long story: I thought I was good at arguing. Turns out I was only good at rough-housing--that's what happens when you're the only girl in the house], and one kid on the team held his pee for so long that he blacked out! They took him to the hospital to have a spinal tap! So I was doing the "gotta pee tango" in the back seat, bopping all around, doing my breathing exercises, until we finally made it to the gas station by the airport. I grabbed my carry-on bag (where I had my comfy lounge clothes) and bolted for the gas station door. I got the key on the hubcap, or whatever they used, and was safe from the spinal tap situation. Who cares how dirty the bathroom is!
We made it to the airport shortly thereafter, with Mark and Doug following us on in. Mark produced a half-full bottle of wine from their car, so we all took a few sips, and headed on into the airport. After we made it past security, we settled in for the long wait for the long trip home. We had all heard about the illusive Suri Cruise being on the cover of Vanity Fair that week, but none of us had seen it. But the good Lord above must have heard our prayers, because out of nowhere came our salvation: a fellow passenger was carrying the magazine! I can't remember who asked him, but he allowed us to look at the pictures and there began the great Suri Cruise debate: is she his baby or not? In my mind I was thinking, she looks Chinese or something!, when our savior says, "Now, I'm Chinese, and that baby looks Chinese!" I looked at him and went, "I know!" I think we have our answer.
The flight home was uneventful. I was in a window seat, next to a seemingly narcoleptic woman and a psychotic man who talked to himself. I didn't sleep a wink! So I did some more of my crossword puzzles and thought about how great my blogs would be from this trip. I did not think it would take a year to get them done though! Oh well.
And once I was home, I went up to my room, got in to bed, and said, in the famous Sonja-Heidi Klum-accent, "I's wout!"
Our day started off in the usual way--getting up when Mother told us to. We had a lot of stuff to accomplish that morning! First off, we had to get all packed up, since we were going over to the Cal-Berkeley campus for the 'Sota Social BBQ, followed by the game, and then off to the airport for the red-eye back to good ol' MPLS. So we all went about getting ready...I was dragging a little bit, seeing as how I threw down the most Stoli Doli in the bar the night before. But it was so yummy! Can you blame me?
Deb went downstairs to get a football autographed by the team, as part of the auction at the BBQ. Well, she was met by the bitchy recruiting coordinator, Shannon something-or-other, who yelled at Deb, "NO! This is game day! Do not bother the team!" But was our mother intimidated by her? Hells no! Off she went to the players directly: "Hey, Jimmy, would you sign this football for an auction?" Playa: "Sure." And so on and so forth.
While she was downstairs, Betsi, Sony, and I were packing our haul of souveniers (mainly from the Coach store...check!)--Betsi bought a very nice Coach woolen jacket that had to take up residence in my luggage, as hers was full. At some point, the bell boy or porter or whatever the P.C. term is these days showed up when we weren't expecting him--I was posing for the camera, football between my pom-poms [tee hee], imitating Deb asking the players for autographs. I haven't decided if that picture will make the blog or not...
Anyhoo! So we got all packed up and went downstairs, where we carefully avoided the Dirty South wedding going on in one corner (nasty Tucker Carlson and his league of gentlemen), and piled into the waiting SUV to go to Berkeley. On the way we saw Buch and said "HI!" He was already stressing out over something. Or maybe he was just being his usual self...I am not sure. [see above mention of Stoli Doli]
The 'Sota Social was lovely. It was held on campus in the plaza of some museum, with pork provided by the MN Pork Council, or whatever they call themselves. I don't remember if we had swag bags, but we all did end up with pork thermometers! Deb put Sony and me to work selling Gopher t-shirts to pay for our hotel room. She was busy hob-knobbing with the big shots, while Betsi manned the check-in table with our fellow criminals Theresa and Doug. Who says you can't sell t-shirts while drinking Miller Lite? Certainly not me!
There were some lame-o Cal students in the dorms overlooking the plaza we were standing in, up on the 15th floor or so, who put their computer skills to use by printing up signs that said, "Gophers Suck" and "Bears eat Gophers;" obviously they were enrolled in creative writing classes. Look, we weren't there to win! We were there to have a good time! Geez! But the biggest loser of the day comes later on in the story.
Off we went to the stadium! It was probably about 60 degrees outside, the sun was setting, no rain--very nice weather for watching a game. We walked up and down and up and down and up again many flights of stairs and little ramps to get to our seats, which were very nice. By very nice, I mean that they were in a good location. Benches are just not comfortable! Deb and I explored the food options: we had steak sandwiches (okay) and garlic fries (not too good). No beer here! Poo.
So the Gophers started to tease us--they scored first, and then also ran a kick-off back for a touchdown, but that was all they had for us. No worries--I'll watch the freaks in the stands. We were about 2 sections over from the Cal student section, and this was quite the sight. I don't mean that in a good way. They had these preppy boys leading the students in cheers...not like cheerleaders, but like military propaganda guys from Hitler's gestapo. They wore blue oxford shirts, khaki shorts, yellow and blue striped ties, and they had microphones and would yell, "I want you to cheer! One, two, three, Go Bears!" or some other bullshit, so the boring Cal students would respond, because they need to be told what to do, I guess. I thought it was horrible! I much prefer the student section at the Dome, where they pass around 4 foot Nut Rolls for everyone to eat! Much more creative!
Then there was a group of three guys who were drunk and walking up and down our section, making fun of us for being Gopher fans and losing the game. I'm sorry, did I miss roll call on the sideline? Because I don't think the fans were playing, it was the team. "Student Athletes." So Deb got pissed and reported them to security, who told them to take a hike. Maybe this was a good move after all, because then they came to apologize to us and tell us to come to the hotel bar next to the stadium, claiming that they owned it and they'd buy us some beers. Naturally our ears perked up to this, so we decided to check it out.
As you can only imagine, the Gophers got spanked, so we left and were waiting outside the gates for our whole crew to show up. The Cal fans were some of the biggest assholes I'd ever seen. Not a single person went by without yelling at us, "You suck!" or something like that. I can't think of a single occasion where anyone I've known has gone up to a fan from a visiting team at a Gopher game and yelled at them that they suck. I don't care that you like the other team; I don't like your team! You should have a good time, but I do hope you lose! But the Cal fans were just plain creeps about it. The best encounter happened with Betsi and Doug. They were helping load some stuff into the trailer that was driving back to MN, and some deaf guy came up to them and yelled out, "LOSER!" But, since he was deaf, it was more like, "LOSE-AH!" And he was putting up his hands to his head in an "L" shape, making him look really dumb. How lame are you that you do that? Seriously.
Well, maybe they'll like us if we drink beer. So off we went to Henry's, the hotel bar! There was a small beer tent set up in the back, but we were getting no love back there (again, see asshole fans mentioned above), so we went inside and ordered some beers. The guys from the stadium who claimed to own the bar came around and actually did offer us some free beers, so they went up a notch in my book. However, shortly after we settled into a little corner to stand around and talk to our new friends Gina (pronounced "ji-nah," like in 40 Year Old Virgin, which she did not appreciate) and her fiance who looked like Joe Rogan from "Fear Factor," a fight broke out between an innocent Minnesota fan and some drunk Cal fan! Seriously! The Cal fan was totally out of control! Okay, so it's been a year since it happened, and I'm sure neither one is innocent or more to blame than the other, but all the Cal fans were total jerks, so I'm just assuming this guy was too! At one point, I even had to get in the middle of them because none of the homies in the bar would step up to the plate! Geez! Needless to say, the place cleared out a little bit after this, so we were able to find an actual hi-top table in the bar area to stand at while we drank our beers and were verbally assaulted by the Cal fans.
Thank goodness we had a change of scenery! We moved into the bar area and found the hidden pocket of cool Cal fans. They were actually nice to us! I am pretty sure it all started from one of them staring one of our sets of Goldy Gophers, but I started talking to a group of guys at a neighboring table, telling them about how awful everyone was to us, and they were so nice and not total jerks that I gave them one of the extra pork producer thermometers. To remember the good people of MN by. The next thing I knew, they bought a pitcher for us, to make up for our bad experience! Granted, one of the guys was engaged to a gal from MN and went to the U himself, but still, it felt nice to know that they weren't all total a-holes!
Sony was off in the other part of the bar, having the time of her life, hair all fluffed out, lips all glossy, talking to a group of guys. On our way into the bar, Sony grabbed an extra "Let Your 'Gopher' Spirit Out" t-shirt from either Deb or Betsi to wear over her shoulders like a preppy girl. Never mind the fact that it was a short-sleeved t-shirt! Science be damned! So she was prancing around like Supergirl with that t-shirt on her shoulders. Well, she then decided to just layer it over her other shirt, as it wasn't staying on her shoulders too well (hmmm...wonder why...), and within 2 minutes, she had some of those guys at her side, "reading" the script on her shirt. Or staring at her jub-jubs.
ANYHOO, she starts gabbing away with those guys. One of them decided to pull out the big guns and go with the line, "I'm the mayor of Berkeley." That was met with a giggle and a hair fluff. Mother, aka Deb, put us on a 30-minute warning or so. We had the redeye flight at midnight to catch, and it was about 8:00 or so at this point. Sony and I went about slamming beers, because that's what we do, especially when given a warning! But partners-in-crime Mark Allen and Doug were not having it: they kept buying pitchers and when Deb would turn away, they'd fill up mine and Sony's glass! Ding dang! We were having such a great time, socializing with the only nice people in Berkeley, that Sony and I didn't want it to end! We were convinced we would just stay and catch the next flight! Until Deb and Betsi said they'd leave without us...so we chugged the rest of the beer and hit the road. Luckily, we did manage to eke another 30 minutes or so out of our stay in Berkeley, so it was probably around 9:00 when we left for the airport.
About 15 minutes outside of Berkeley, with about another 15 minutes to go to the airport, I was hit with such a wave of urination urgency that I was afraid I was going to die. Seriously. When I was in 9th grade, I was on the debate team [long story: I thought I was good at arguing. Turns out I was only good at rough-housing--that's what happens when you're the only girl in the house], and one kid on the team held his pee for so long that he blacked out! They took him to the hospital to have a spinal tap! So I was doing the "gotta pee tango" in the back seat, bopping all around, doing my breathing exercises, until we finally made it to the gas station by the airport. I grabbed my carry-on bag (where I had my comfy lounge clothes) and bolted for the gas station door. I got the key on the hubcap, or whatever they used, and was safe from the spinal tap situation. Who cares how dirty the bathroom is!
We made it to the airport shortly thereafter, with Mark and Doug following us on in. Mark produced a half-full bottle of wine from their car, so we all took a few sips, and headed on into the airport. After we made it past security, we settled in for the long wait for the long trip home. We had all heard about the illusive Suri Cruise being on the cover of Vanity Fair that week, but none of us had seen it. But the good Lord above must have heard our prayers, because out of nowhere came our salvation: a fellow passenger was carrying the magazine! I can't remember who asked him, but he allowed us to look at the pictures and there began the great Suri Cruise debate: is she his baby or not? In my mind I was thinking, she looks Chinese or something!, when our savior says, "Now, I'm Chinese, and that baby looks Chinese!" I looked at him and went, "I know!" I think we have our answer.
The flight home was uneventful. I was in a window seat, next to a seemingly narcoleptic woman and a psychotic man who talked to himself. I didn't sleep a wink! So I did some more of my crossword puzzles and thought about how great my blogs would be from this trip. I did not think it would take a year to get them done though! Oh well.
And once I was home, I went up to my room, got in to bed, and said, in the famous Sonja-Heidi Klum-accent, "I's wout!"
