Unorganized Passport Drama

Here I am, sitting at the Shannon, Ireland Airport for a quick, but annoying layover from London to Boston. After a 4-hour sleep on Gen and Pete’s Futon, I was escorted to the Heathrow express train (more expensive than the tube, but so worth it to not wake up 2 hours earlier). Gen and Mikey said their “see ya soon” s to me and I sat down with my suitcases for a relaxing 15-minute trip to the airport.

Oh wait, that’s not what happened at all. Actually, as the doors to the train closed, I sat down and double checked my purse for my passport and realized I still had Mikey’s passport with me. Not a big deal, I’ll just mail it to him or something…but of course it’s not that simple. This wouldn’t be my life if I didn’t have to pay MASSIVLY for my idiot mistakes. It would be the life I wish I had, the one where I was always on time, organized, well dressed and immune to bad breath. But I’ve given up on those things by now. Mikey’s flight to Boston is taking off as I write this, and hopefully he is on it. He is flying from Gatwick, an airport miles outside of the city, nowhere near Heathrow, the airport I flew from.

So what the fuck does one do when they have to not only check them self in and get on their own flight in the allotted 2 hours, but also some how get a passport back to Edgeware road in central London for the equally irresponsible other half?

I rang Mikey in a panic after I’d already checked in and gone through security. He hadn’t realized the situation until I called. Don’t be surprised. Our first solution was to have him get on the damn express train and come pick it up, but that meant I would have to leave my gate and wait for him to arrive (30 min at the least) and hand it over. None of the airport personnel wanted to be held responsible, so no one else would do the deed. This wasn’t going to work, because I would miss my flight waiting for him and going back through security again.

Next Plan, send it back to the apartment in a taxi. So I leave the gate, its now 9am and I’m really hoping that I can make it back through security and to my gate in time for my 10:10 flight. I ran outside, my gigantic bag on my arm, looking like a crazy person who hasn’t changed her socks in 3 weeks or showered in days. I had to walk up the line of taxis, asking them to do me the favor, but was denied by 3. I decided I would run back inside, go to the ATM and take out 50 pounds to bribe the drivers with (they didn’t like the idea of mikey paying them when they got there). I tried a new driver, who looked reluctant until I said I’d pay him up front. He said it would be 50 and I forked over the cash. His name was Bob and he promised he’s get it to Mikey urgently.

I gave Bob the address and our mobile number to ring Mikey once he was out side. I had left the phone with Mikey per chance I would need to ring him once I’d left. I guess I had a prophetic vision that something like this would happen, or more like an experienced knowledge it would. As Bob drove off, I took down his cab number, as if that will help if he decided not to deliver the thing.

I ran back into the airport and made it through security a second time to my gate. They hadn’t started boarding yet and I tried to grab a bite to eat at the only café in a 20 minute walking distance from my gate. Of course the only thing on the vegan menu was a banana and a bottle of water. Disappointed and slightly angry about the lack of consideration for some of the most considerate people, I found a pay phone and rang mikey. It was 9:45 at this point and he still hadn’t gotten the Passport. I needed to board so we said goodbye, Mikey sitting on the stoop in the cold and me stressed out, needing to pee but didn’t have time, boarding a shitty flight to Ireland.

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Halloween

creeps

Well, Halloween 07 was nothing compared to celebrating back home, trick or treating and costume take over, but it was a decent effort made by London.  Our Australian pal, suz had a party at her place in Acton and the whole London crew was there. It was a nice change of secenery since we never head out that way – it’s a bit of a mission, but she has a big back yard and a fire pit! I love smelling like campfires the next day, so i was quite happy with the halloween flames. Everyone dressed up real crazy and partied like rock stars. I wasn’t really in the wasted party mood, so I soberly observed as everyone slowly lost their minds.  It was so nice to see Leanne, our canadian flatmate from the Earls Cort place last summer. She’s a doll and we caught up on the past years events. I taught the girls a few metal songs and we sang them all night, laughing at how dumb we sounded until finally it was 3am and i couldnt take the lonely sober vibe anymore. I had to gather the Camden troops (with the help of Valentina, best!) and we stole teh cab Pete had called for himself and convinced the driver to take us all the way back to Chalk Farm *baby baby* for a mere £4/each. Seve, Vali, Mikey, Wara and I all hung out in the kitchen doing what we do best until finally heading to bed around 5. In the end, the party was a definate success, I only wish I had been in a better mood.

 Actual Halloween night was a let down, but Jord and I can’t say we didnt try. First Mikey, Pen, Suz, Jord and I met at a vegan buffet near tottenham court road after work. It was Hepz’s idea and her, Grace, and Loz were supposed to meet us, but there are so many of those stupid vegan asian buffets in that area that we were at 2 different places the whole time, each group thinking the other group were a bunch of flakes. Oh well. So we went home and Jord and I covered ourselves with blood – ready for a halloween party at some club back near the buffet. When we got to the Club there was a line out the door and around the corner. We waited for about 30 min and durring the wait a huge drunk chick who was passed on against a lamp pole toppled over and vomited all over my shoe….delicious red wine puke. Her drag queen asian friend and another girl struggled to sit her back up and somehow got her out of there. I stopped paying attention once we moved far enough up to not have to hear their drunken panic. Some other lady looked homeless (not just halloween homeless) walked by yelling at the rest of us in line for not helping the girl – so it was quite a scene. That was about the most entertaining the night got. We got sick of waiting in line, apartently the only plave having a celebration for All Hallows Eve, and tried to find something else to do. It was getting late and since we both had to work in the morning, we hung our heads and caught the bus back to camden town.  The damn English have no idea how to celebrate Halloween (Its a Scottish holliday anyways). I mean, the English have Guy Fawkes  day to celebrate the day good ol’ Guy tried to blow up Parliment. Whatever you crazy Brits. They’ll drink to anything.

WEEN!

WeenWeen is touring america while I’m here traveling Europe. DAMN IT! At least they will be playing in Sydney Australia on March 1st, giving me even more of a reason to move there this winter after spending the holidays at home…i guess its fate. Their new album, La Cucarach was released on Oct 23rd. I am a horrible fan as i dont have it yet, but i will go buy it tomorrow and let everyone know how grand it is. Those crazy acid tripping hippies wont let me down, I’m sure of it.

Hovis London Freewheel

Over 38,000 cyclists took over the streets of London this past Sunday, Sept 23rd to celebrate the Hovis London Freewheel event. Among the riders were families, pros, first timers, and myself, all enjoying an atmosphere of freedom and safety on traffic free streets.

Located around London were starting points followed by arrows marking the best routes towards Westminster, the heart of the event. Here the streets were infested with bikes, without a car in sight. To see some of London’s most famous sights while being a part of such a grand event was uniquely liberating, a sensation that would be hard to understand without taking part in such a grand event.

The purpose of the event was to encourage Londoners to use their bikes as a main source of transportation, hopefully reducing pollution in the city.

As an American I have been timid about riding in London and getting used to the opposite sides of the road, but this event gave me the chance to ride with confidence and gain a sense of familiarity with a city that is new to me. This is the response the mayor was hoping to get from all the participating Londoners.

‘Cycling is good for you and good for the environment. Having taken part in the Hovis London Freewheel, I hope people will find that cycling regularly in London is easier than they thought. I have asked my staff to bring me an analysis of what worked this year and a proposal on a bigger event for next year (cyclesport.com).’

The day of greener transport even included a festival in Saint James Park. Entertainment consisted of a BMX show, the Cycling Circus, street theatre and if that didn’t excite people enough, free sandwiches.

My favourite part of the ride? Hundreds of people screaming and ringing their bike bells at once as we rode under bridges and through tunnels. Certianly a sight to see.Overall, participants, Mayor Livingstone, and event sponsor, Hovis think the event was a huge success.

Tim Dewey, Hovis, said: ‘We are delighted to be the lead sponsor of the first Hovis London Freewheel. At Hovis we are passionate about great tasting, wholesome food and an active lifestyle, which is why we are excited to be part of this event. People today have clearly had a great day(cyclesport.com).

nine and five

As I sit here, twisting in my blue, swivel chair, trying not to pee my pants – the toilet is on the other side of the embarrassingly quite office and I’ve already gone about 10 times – I am trying to day dream about all the things I will be doing with my life when this 9-5 office job ends. I can’t though. Day dreams are blocked the way most interesting websites on this company computer are. All I can think about is how sacred I am that this is it. That for the rest of my life I will be forced to stare at a computer screen until I feel drunk with PDF files and excel spreadsheets. Although, I of course am not being “forced” to do anything. I could pull a Mr. Butch and just chill on the streets. He always seemed like he was having the time of his life – purposely avoiding the system and taking a shit on “the man”- he lived off of booze and music. The Mayor, we lovingly called him in the town of Allston. He knew what made him happy and it certainly wasn’t the security of a full time office job.

 I think I share some of Mr Butch’s point of views on life, but unfortunately I can’t escape the material comforts of life. I like grocery shopping at health food stores and blowing my money on junk resembling vintage boots and lattes. I like showers in the morning and decorating the apartments I’m so often moving in and out of due to frequent traveling, yet another luxury I enjoy. So I work. I submit myself to lengthy time consuming meetings at temp agencies, taking Microsoft tests to check that I have the proper skills necessary to enter random numbers into a program that doesn’t even allow mistakes –but instead offers a loud, offensive buzzing noise informing co-workers that I’ve fallen asleep with my eyes open at the computer. I spend money on “casual business attire” that I don’t want to wear so I look “professional” at an interview for a job that I don’t really want. Well I have the job now and I’m too dependent on a weekly pay check to back out until I’ve saved enough to get the hell out of here and see the world, and by world I mean eastern Europe, but someday ill hopefully have seen the whole world.

I’m not sure what is that drives me to travel. I don’t know if I’m afraid of comfort as much as I long for it and maybe it makes me uneasy when I get too comfortable. I’m searching for something; a lifestyle, a career, a person or myself. I have to find one of those things once I’ve seen the entire world, it has to be somewhere…in Africa maybe. I do feel some strange passion for Africa although I’ve never been. Morocco is so close to Spain that I think I can make it there before heading back to the states for Christmas. Egypt, Kenya and South Africa sound amazingly beautiful and a bit scary too. I think I’m going to puke. Not from Africa but from this green tea I just drank. Every time I drink green tea in this office I feel sick….but no where else. I’m allergic to tea at work. Or just work in general I guess. I’m avoiding doing work right now, my boss is out sick and hasn’t left me with anything to do and everyone in this office knows it so they said when I run out of work to tell them so they can give me more. This one guy, Guy is his name actually, he has some “archiving” for me to do, whatever the hell that is, it sounds painful. I’ll head over to his desk in a bit when there isn’t much of the day left to work. I think I have to get back to doing things so that I look busy for a second before this guy behind me notices! Blah! I hate this!