January 2009 Archives

You'll have to forgive me for thinking a one-quart clear plastic resealable bag is the solution here.

Served with a side of onion-du-juor. (I'm thinking this may not be satire. I think Houston must have been a pilot city for the real thing.)

Not really.

But I did need to order some more tea, so I did that last night.

Whilst shopping I came across some Tot 50 staples in refill boxes of 1000 staples. The little Tot staplers were redesigned to take standard staples. You can't get staples for the old kind in the stores anymore.

And I'm not about to part with my little stapler. It's a classic. So I ordered enough staples to last 15 years or so. Unless my stapling habits change drastically.

I also managed to come across a first edition of Step Into the Light.

I think I spent 51 bucks including all the shipping.

Big shopping weekend for me, don't you know.

I've got another hour or so at home before it's time to head to the airport. It's been a very productive day. I got expense reports, time sheets, emails, an on-line course, and part of my annual review done, as well as all the laundry, the dishes, house vacuumed, put away clothes, put stuff in the mailbox, beds made, and sent and read a few dozen emails.

Which makes up for the slug's pace I moved last week on vacation.

Which is as it should be.

PONDRING NEWSWIRE - January 15, 2009 - DETROIT Automakers began arriving today for "Conference to Decide Whether to Continue Using the Term 'Automakers.'

Shea had part of a school project due today. Her school has a web portal where she gets and saves her homework. Just as she was finishing up last night, my DSL decided it wasn't going to work.

It's gone off sporadically in the past for seconds or even minutes, but it always comes back. Well, last night it didn't come back. I put her to bed and said when it came back I would finish the saving and printing of her paper for her. I waited two hours and nothing, so I called customer service. They did their over the phone diagnostics and that didn't solve it, so I had to make an appointment for someone to come out.

I wavered between hopeful and cynical that they would get an appointment quickly for me. (But they did, for this morning, between 8:00 and 12:00.) Then one wonders whether the person they send out will be on time, call beforehand like you ask them to, then know how to fix the issue, etc.

Well at 8:02 AM I got a call. I told the guy I was dropping my daughter at school and would be at home in 15 minutes. He was here when I got home, knew exactly what he was doing, was friendly, and changed two phone jacks that he didn't even have to. Took him about an hour and everything is done and I've got my internet back.

Now I can finish my (daughter's) homework. Mommy is learning a whole lot about electromagnets. I had to send a note with Shea for her teacher explaining that Shea did have the work done, and once my DSL was fixed I'd print it out and bring it to school today.

It used to be "my dog ate my homework." Now it's "the DSL line at my house went down."

The problem here at home was two wires that had lost their pairing, just due to age, and an open connection on one of the phone jacks inside the house. If I actually had a home phone plugged in, I probably would have noticed the problem sooner. I have the line, I just don't use it. It came with the DSL. Maybe now that everything is properly filtered I'll be able to have a home phone again. So the telemarketers have something to do.

The phone that I do have to plug in has an answering machine that can answer in English or Spanish. I used to turn it on Spanish just to hear the reactions of the callers. Anyone that knew me knew it was my phone, but strangers never thought they had the right number. Kind of funny.

And now that I think of it some more, it's very likely I will set it to answer in Spanish again.

PONDRING NEWSWIRE - January 14, 2009 - In what is wildly hoped to be, "really, the last dumb thing he says while in office," yesterday President Bush strongly urged President-Elect Obama to drop the "little line and the word elect" in his title.

(He didn't, really. It's just what came out of my fingers after I spent time reading The Onion yesterday.)

But I have to say, seeing Mount Fuji from the air was nothing short of breathtaking.

Three on-time flights. Well two on-time and one early, thanks to a 176 mile an hour tailwind from Nagoya to Detroit.

The flight from Guam to Japan was nearly empty. I had the entire first-class cabin to myself. (And all the fresh fruit, coffee, and raisin bread I wanted for breakfast.) The hotel in Guam left me a little basket on the first day I was there, along with a plate of fruit and some bottled water. The little basket was the perfect size for a small and highly fragile trinket I brought back for Shea. I had the basket in my hand or near me the entire trip home. On the flight from Guam the basket got its own seat. (It didn't want any breakfast.)

It was this trip's turtle.

Which will require some explanation.

Several years ago, Bill, Shea and I went to Cozumel. Shea found a small glass turtle on a thin glass rod that she had to have. The turtle got hand-carried by me or Bill the entire trip home. We found ourselves saying, "where's the turtle," all the way back.

Last summer when we went to Bonaire, I put all three of our passports and other important stuff into a zippered case designed for such, and right before we left for the airport, I held out the case to Bill and Shea and said, "this is the turtle." And they both understood without my saying anything else.

And like before, "turtle" was part of our vocabulary. Where's the turtle. It's in the turtle. Did you put it back in the turtle.

So the basket was my turtle this trip.

When I got home, I was comforted to find an alleged recent wind storm didn't do any damage at my house. Also comforted by the get-home routine.

I walk in the back door, put my (two) bags down, and immediately go change all my clothes, brush my teeth, and put my hair up. Then I unpack the suitcase and backpack.

Much the same as usual except this time I have several souvenirs to unpack, and Yen in my wallet when I dump out all my change.

And tattoo maintenance to do. I went back Friday evening. The artist had made three sketches, all of which exceeded my wildest expectations. But one spoke to me right away, and so it was done, to perfection, about an hour later.

He also filled in a small spot on my firedancer that, once all healed, was a little lighter than the rest. It was unfortunate that the light spot was at her crotch. Otherwise I probably would have left it.

When I showed it to him he said, "that's going to take me all day," then laughed really loud. He and the other guy that worked there were both very nice.

Everyone there was nice. And if you ever go to Guam, I highly recommend the Hilton. It was spotless. The elevators were fast. They had great food, a coffee shop in the lobby, lots of stores, a great pool and pool bar, nightly entertainment, and some seriously comfortable beds. With perhaps the greatest pillows EVER, and the smoothest writing hotel pens I have ever encountered.

When I checked out this morning I asked for an extra one, and came home with a whole handful.

So what I brought back that I didn't take with me.

Seven t-shirts.
Two magnets.
Shea's prize.
Plus the turtle.
My prize - a large red Swarovski pendant.
Two airline amenity kits.
One tiny jar of sand from Asan Beach.
Eleven hotel pens.
Five coasters.
Three rocks.
One book.
Fifteen hotel-turn-down-service pieces of chocolate.
(Now fourteen.)
The usual papers - hotel receipt, car receipt, boarding passes.

And one unusual - half a piece of blue paper with the name, phone number, and email address of the very handsome guy on the second floor of the plane on the flight back from Japan.

All of which fit in the same two bags I took with me.

Hafa adai is (apparently) the greeting here in Guam. I've only heard it pronounced one time though, and it sounded like "half a day." Everyone just seems to speak English.

Not that I mind.

So the flight to Detroit from home was on time, and in fact a little early. I made my way to my next gate and they were already boarding. Thanks to elite status I got to bypass the 300 people waiting in line and go right onto the plane. My seat was on the second floor of the plane. The very quiet second floor.

My seatmate was a woman whose shirt was about 15 times too small for her, such that every time she moved, which was very often, mostly to play with the buttons that control the position of the seat, both her tramp stamp and extreme stretch marks were there on display for me.

So I watched movies and drank Baileys until I fell asleep.

When we landed and got off the plane, the cleaning crew was already standing there in the jetway (no surprise - this is Japan), immaculately dressed, all smiling, and all greeting the passengers with a bow.

I went through customs and wandered through the shops for the two hours I had to wait. The flight to Guam was also on time, and took about three hours. I was wide awake when we landed. Customs here took about three seconds. I got my rental car and a map, found my way to the hotel, and went to bed.

Monday morning I got up, hit the coffee shop in the lobby, then went out and explored a bit. I sent a message to Shea telling her it was like an English Bonaire - 85 degrees all the time, beautiful breezes, and really friendly people.

Much like landing in Anchorage several years ago, it's odd to be on a plane for that long and see "Welcome to the United States" signs. But then one sees KFC, McDonalds, Ruby Tuesday, Outback, Ross, KMart, and Pizza Hut. Down in the Galleria area is a whole strip of upscale shops - Fendi, Cole Haan, Coach, Chanel, etc. I didn't stop to do any shopping - a) I don't like to shop and b) there is not a single thing on earth that I need, and c) if I did shop I would be drawn like a magnet to bags and luggage, and I absolutely don't need the temptation of that.

(See previous post about my baggage problem.)

There are tattoo shops all over the island. I didn't decide on one until yesterday afternoon, so I stopped in, and made an appointment for tonight. Size, color, location and design having thus been decided, I'll post a picture when I get home.

I've got today to explore around some more, so now that I've had my coffee and balcony time, I'm going to get in the shower and head out. With any luck I'll be able to avoid the tractor beam that is the LeSportSac shop in the lobby.

A laugh to start the day.

Actually, I came across that last night, but had far too many other irons in the fire to open a window here.

But I laughed out loud to myself anyway. When I got to the part about passengers being charged for each piece of luggage sitting in their closet, I almost spit out my tea.

Because I have a baggage problem. Bags and bags of bags, stuffed inside other bags, zipped into cases, and then put inside bigger bags.

But since I don't check bags, the airlines don't make any extra money on me for that. And since I fly Delta 98% of the time, they would let me check up to three bags for free.

If I checked bags. But I don't. Thanks to wool, UnderArmour, and business casual, I can fit 10 days of clothes and shoes into one 22" wheeled suitcase.

Everything else goes in the backpack.

Just in case you were curious.

Speaking of the backpack, it's sitting on the chair next to the table awaiting it's turn to be packed. I've got a couple of hours before I have to be out the door. I go from here to Detroit, to Nagoya, to Guam, arriving at about one in the morning local time Monday.

The trips back and forth to the west coast were obviously just warm up laps.

Not that I haven't made trips like this before. And longer ones at that. The flight to Japan is less than 14 hours. New York to Johannesburg was 17 and a half hours one leg.

In other news I think I have decided on the size, shape, structure, color, and approximate location of the next tattoo. Subject to change without notice, of course.

So anyway, I was appreciating satire last night, and had the TV on. There was a movie called The Wedding Date. (No surprise I have not seen it before.) The lady and her date are meeting for the first time on an airplane, and the flight attendant says in a sultry voice, "well hello 3B."

I travel too much to not repeatedly ponder my seatmates. Generally the pondring is proportionate to the length of the flight, and includes a destination multiplier.

Although there have been one or two times when the math totally didn't add up.

I was on a short flight from Lansing, Michigan to Chicago. When I got on the plane, I looked down the rows to find my seatmate already seated. I'll just say he was cute, and move on. Because he was also charming, and friendly, and, like me, had some time to spare in Chicago, so we went and had drinks. (Ask me if I like Southern Comfort and 7-Up.)

It's nice when it happens. But more often than not, I don't talk to people when I travel. I used to. When I was young and naive.

Remind me to tell you about this one trip to New Orleans. No time now. Time to get in the shower and pack my (two) bags.