Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
I leave for London today. I am nearly beside myself with excitement and antici...pation.
10 more hours.
I’ve never had a passport before. The only trips I’ve previously made out of the United States were a 30-minute walkthrough of Tijuana (that was really quite enough) in 1984 and a three-week trip to Haiti in 1986 (six months after Duvalier’s ousting), and I only needed my birth certificate to get in and out of those two places. My visit to Haiti was a mission trip, and as such, we stayed with the people we were helping –cinderblock/mud/straw shelters with dirt floors. We did have matressless cots to sleep on, but only because sleeping on the floor pretty much guarantees that you’ll wake up with lizards crawling on your face. The cots turn the guarantee to merely an even chance.
The first thing you do in the morning when you get up is to put on your shoes (you don’t want to walk in the dirt. Some scorpions are small, and while they won’t kill you, the stings hurt like hell). Before you put on your shoes, you must check them to make sure nothing has decided to take up residence. One morning, I found a largish fuzzy tarantula peeking out of one of my sneakers. I screamed, and threw the shoe, which hit the wall with the spider side, requiring me to clean squished tarantula out of my shoe before I put it on. I’ve been iffy about spiders ever since.
I don’t think London has the right climate for tarantulas.
9 3/4 more hours.
I’m concerned about the plane ride. Not so much the flight over, because I’ll be sleeping (or a reasonable facsimile) for a good portion of that, but more the flight back, which is in the middle of the day. I don’t mind flying at all, and I’m not claustrophobic, but on flights of more than about 3 hours, I start getting antsy. I’m a generally peppy, high-energy person (not to be confused with being an Extrovert, and yes, I do know where my kids get it from, thank you) and having to sit still in one place for so long is...difficult. Pity Zander.
And then, there’s also that whole thing about my eardrum rupturing the last time I flew (*waves* to Wheezus). My doctor suggested taking decongestants starting 24 hours before the flight to avoid this. I took a decongestant before bed last night, although I was not at all congested. I woke up this morning so dehydrated that I felt hung over. I did not take another decongestant this morning. It’s going to be everything I can do at this point to re-congest to a point of normality.
The Boy asked if I would send him a postcard while he’s at his dad’s next week. I think I have to send it the day we arrive so he’ll get it before I get back.
9 ½ hours.
10 more hours.
I’ve never had a passport before. The only trips I’ve previously made out of the United States were a 30-minute walkthrough of Tijuana (that was really quite enough) in 1984 and a three-week trip to Haiti in 1986 (six months after Duvalier’s ousting), and I only needed my birth certificate to get in and out of those two places. My visit to Haiti was a mission trip, and as such, we stayed with the people we were helping –cinderblock/mud/straw shelters with dirt floors. We did have matressless cots to sleep on, but only because sleeping on the floor pretty much guarantees that you’ll wake up with lizards crawling on your face. The cots turn the guarantee to merely an even chance.
The first thing you do in the morning when you get up is to put on your shoes (you don’t want to walk in the dirt. Some scorpions are small, and while they won’t kill you, the stings hurt like hell). Before you put on your shoes, you must check them to make sure nothing has decided to take up residence. One morning, I found a largish fuzzy tarantula peeking out of one of my sneakers. I screamed, and threw the shoe, which hit the wall with the spider side, requiring me to clean squished tarantula out of my shoe before I put it on. I’ve been iffy about spiders ever since.
I don’t think London has the right climate for tarantulas.
9 3/4 more hours.
I’m concerned about the plane ride. Not so much the flight over, because I’ll be sleeping (or a reasonable facsimile) for a good portion of that, but more the flight back, which is in the middle of the day. I don’t mind flying at all, and I’m not claustrophobic, but on flights of more than about 3 hours, I start getting antsy. I’m a generally peppy, high-energy person (not to be confused with being an Extrovert, and yes, I do know where my kids get it from, thank you) and having to sit still in one place for so long is...difficult. Pity Zander.
And then, there’s also that whole thing about my eardrum rupturing the last time I flew (*waves* to Wheezus). My doctor suggested taking decongestants starting 24 hours before the flight to avoid this. I took a decongestant before bed last night, although I was not at all congested. I woke up this morning so dehydrated that I felt hung over. I did not take another decongestant this morning. It’s going to be everything I can do at this point to re-congest to a point of normality.
The Boy asked if I would send him a postcard while he’s at his dad’s next week. I think I have to send it the day we arrive so he’ll get it before I get back.
9 ½ hours.
posted by ilse at 11:27 AM
3 Comments:
Remember. The boot is where you put your luggage, the Bobby is who you run away from, and the loo is where you piddle.
You are gonna have a great time! The flight will go by faster then you think, besides you are traveling with an entertaining type guy ( what more could you ask?)
OH MY HECK! I just realised that you are already on the flight!
Well then I guess I can just talk to myself because you won't see this for a week.
So Dweeze? Piddle is a good word, I'm going to use it soon.
Have fun Ilse and Zander! Take pictures and come back with lots of stories!
*waves*
I told you to get EarPlanes. Now get them before you fly back.
*schmack*
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