Delayed Post Travel Posting
Have I ever mentioned how much I love New Zealand? I’m sure I did, but I might have deleted it in one of my purges of crap that “seemed like a good idea at the time”. Such entries include one about a particularly bad documentary about the draft in the US which, as a dear friend pointed out, would probably get me lynched. So it didn’t get past the hotmail inbox stage. Other such examples include situations that include the following: Me + Sugar/ Excitement/ Any reason to get my soap box out/ All of the above = Weird crap that makes no sense, is littered with wrong spellings, bad grammar, and half finished sentences where my attention-span-of-a-knat start to kick – LOOK! A DISCTRACTION!
Anyway, I have officially returned from NZ and in one piece, too. But it struck me on the flight back that:
1) You never really know someone until you sit next to them on a 12 hour flight
2) My mother is officially nominated for “Most Paranoid Flyer” in the Ex-Travel Agent category.
3) The on-flight safety procedures are total bull.
Let me explain some of these. (Oh, and if I don’t explain something, it means it’s self explanatory, or I’m just too lazy to lay it out. But can you blame me? It’s one-freakin-thirty in the morning and I’ve had about one hours sleep in the last roughly seventy two hours. No joke. I mean it. I’m going to look like a raccoon in the morning.)
Alright, looking back, the first two are the self explanatory ones, and they paint a fairly accurate picture of the Auckland to San Francisco flight.
This only leaves the third point. Lets put it this way, if you look at the safety presentations on flights, it’s all bull because no one is ever going to follow them in the case of an actual emergency, and a little rubber floater boat it not going to help you if you’re about to crash into some mountain or forest. Even if you land in the Pacific, or where ever you may be, the impact would be so bad that you won’t live to slide down into the little rubber boats. Therefore, the whole thing is a load of crap-tastic reassurance for people – like my mum – who need to think that they’d have a chance if something really did happen.
SIDE NOTE
This poor entry has been sitting on my computer for two weeks, alone, unloved, and unfinished. So I’m putting it out of its misery and am going to post it mainly because I haven’t posted anything decent in the last while and I might as well put something on. It’s not great, and I could probably scrap half of it for something better. For reasons unknown, my muse is nocturnal and my best attempts at writing are between midnight and two in the morning. Because of this, I’m tired and I want to go cuddle my cat and fall blissfully asleep. << The caboose to this train of thought – I don’t care right now if this entry is kind of crappy. Goodnight!
Feeling: I’m not sure…Happy to be home, but am still mind-numb to be petrified of driving because the taxi driver started driving on the wrong side of the road… oh wait… It’s switched back. Right!
Listening to: Nothing, because if any parents wake up, I’m up shit creek.
Word of the day: jet lag ok, so it’s not one word. So sue me.
Anyway, I have officially returned from NZ and in one piece, too. But it struck me on the flight back that:
1) You never really know someone until you sit next to them on a 12 hour flight
2) My mother is officially nominated for “Most Paranoid Flyer” in the Ex-Travel Agent category.
3) The on-flight safety procedures are total bull.
Let me explain some of these. (Oh, and if I don’t explain something, it means it’s self explanatory, or I’m just too lazy to lay it out. But can you blame me? It’s one-freakin-thirty in the morning and I’ve had about one hours sleep in the last roughly seventy two hours. No joke. I mean it. I’m going to look like a raccoon in the morning.)
Alright, looking back, the first two are the self explanatory ones, and they paint a fairly accurate picture of the Auckland to San Francisco flight.
This only leaves the third point. Lets put it this way, if you look at the safety presentations on flights, it’s all bull because no one is ever going to follow them in the case of an actual emergency, and a little rubber floater boat it not going to help you if you’re about to crash into some mountain or forest. Even if you land in the Pacific, or where ever you may be, the impact would be so bad that you won’t live to slide down into the little rubber boats. Therefore, the whole thing is a load of crap-tastic reassurance for people – like my mum – who need to think that they’d have a chance if something really did happen.
SIDE NOTE
This poor entry has been sitting on my computer for two weeks, alone, unloved, and unfinished. So I’m putting it out of its misery and am going to post it mainly because I haven’t posted anything decent in the last while and I might as well put something on. It’s not great, and I could probably scrap half of it for something better. For reasons unknown, my muse is nocturnal and my best attempts at writing are between midnight and two in the morning. Because of this, I’m tired and I want to go cuddle my cat and fall blissfully asleep. << The caboose to this train of thought – I don’t care right now if this entry is kind of crappy. Goodnight!
Feeling: I’m not sure…Happy to be home, but am still mind-numb to be petrified of driving because the taxi driver started driving on the wrong side of the road… oh wait… It’s switched back. Right!
Listening to: Nothing, because if any parents wake up, I’m up shit creek.
Word of the day: jet lag ok, so it’s not one word. So sue me.
posted by Sparrow | 1:24 a.m.
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