Check In

Originally posted 22.August.2006

I have this tendency to get stuck behind odd people in queues at the airport. Frankly its annoying because no matter where I choose to stand it ends up being the place with the person hidden a few people ahead who is just mere minutes away from bringing everything to a screeching halt. Its always the loon who cant see the objection to packing fireworks in his luggage or has trouble understanding why an antique machete poses a security risk. I once missed a flight out of Ohio because an individual with a license to carry a concealed weapon forgot to pack it in his checked luggage and when an automatic hand gun goes through an airport x-ray machine, bad things happen. Everything shuts down. Literally, the metal gates were dropped from the ceiling and that was that, I stood there with several others on my flight for the next 30 minutes until our flight left, at which point they felt it safe for us to go through to the departure gate.

If its not a complete pratt like that then its the person whose been standing in line to check in for 10 minutes and finally gets up to the counter and cant find their photo ID or reservations and have to search every pocket in every article clothing and every bag before proclaiming that it was in their coat pocket the whole time.

So today I was waiting to check in at e-ticket counter at Logan. I'm stressed out. If you've ever used Logan International Airport on a regular basis you understand why I'm stressed out. The airline's on-line check in hadn't apparently been working all morning so there's a medium sized army of us waiting to use the e-ticket self check in machines. An over crowded check in area at an airport, two weeks after an upgrade in airport security levels, is not the time to show your 6 year old how to use the e-ticket self check in machine. I mean I applaud the initiative, I really do but there's a 3 mile line behind you of people waiting to check in. I, myself, am slowly turning into a ball of rage Incredible Hulk style. Have you no sense of the urgency which is almost visibly pulsing through those of us surrounding you as we look at our watches every 26 seconds and each time mentally recalculate how much time is left to get to our gate?

So I applaud you for the right idea but this is the wrong time. Now, even though, I think you're swell progressive parents and all, I'm deriving twisted pleasure from thinking that at least when your child decides to runaway from home for the first time at the age of 10, she'll get considerably further than the postbox at the end of the road. AND, if shes stumbled across any of my blogs shell probably even be able to clear security in a quick, no nonsense fashion, and be through it before you can reach her.

The Great Cucumber Debate

I went grocery shopping and the woman at the check out asked me what I was planning to do with the cucumber.  This caught me off guard, more so as the rest of my shopping (meat, lettuce, spinach leaves, carrots and celery) seemed to lend itself to the idea that I might be about to make a salad of some sort.

She wanted to know how I was going to eat the cucumber.  What sort of question is that?  When I advised her most of it was going into the salad and the rest might be used with cheese and crackers she found this puzzling and told me that was a foreign thing to her and anyway most people don't buy cucumbers. Whole thing was just bizarre, do Americans not eat cucumbers? Am I the sole cucumber seeker in U.S. super markets?

Bastards, Bleeps and Bias

&$#@    &$#@   &$#@  Bleeeeeeep.

That went on for some time for me following the England-Portugal match today. So I'll spare you the grisly details and the near group suicide that followed our loss and just focus on the bits I think you ought to know about.

Owen Hargreaves- FIFAs man of the match and he earned it too, he played well and he converted his penalty kick.

Beckham came off in the 52^nd minute or so. Yes, I think sometimes people are overly critical of him, but let me say this: Are you mad? YOU BASTARD!

I cannot, CANNOT, believe he came off. He practically took himself out of the game and gave up. Fine, he was limping about a bit, alright maybe he was hurting but that's what the World Cup is about. You're the given the armband, you lead by example. I'm truly hacked off about that ESPECIALLY as it came down to penalties.

Which brings me to Mr. Rooney. What the hell were you thinking? You get sent off with a red card ostensibly for stomping on Carvalho. I've seen the replay and it looks like he was just trying get his footing as they were all tangled up, he wasn't even looking where his feet were for Gods sake. But Wayne- did you have to PUSH Ronaldo after? I know he was being a complete w*nker trying to get you booked, but hold your temper in check man because we need you for penalties too! Christ then he missed that perfect opportunity from Lennon before. Aaarrgh, I don't want to think about it.

On the subject of fouls, apparently just being English was enough to get you called on a foul. I don't know what the final count for the match was but at some point, England had been called on fouls something ridiculous like 17 times to only 3 on Portugal. And those guys deserve Oscars for best dramatic performance. Every time they were challenged they took a dive and rolled about. They should have been getting yellow cards for buggering about instead of PLAYING FOOTBALL. Useless officials today. 

If you were wearing white it looked like this:

Oh, you're English- foul.

Look you kicked the ball- foul

I distinctly saw you running on the pitch- foul

Oops, you're a Portugal man- here have a free kick.

Another Englishman trying to run- foul

And on and on it went. Horrible. Call me biased but I don't think Terry deserved a yellow card for a mid air collision either. And the referee (Argentinian- typical. We won that war fair and square.)... bastard. And, AND, you made Carragher re-do his penalty kick after he scored the first time! BASTARDS!!

The only good thing about today is that the place I go to watch matches was packed with England fans. Until the actual official loss, the atmosphere was electric. The owners had free breakfast for everyone, beer was flowing like water (there was actually a glass crisis by 11am as they had run out of clean ones so you had to hang on to your glass for refills). And the footballs songs were sung by all including the guy from my bank, an American who showed up to see what all the fuss was about. By the extra time, he was abusing Portugal as much as the rest of us. He seemed to be entertained by our songs as well and sung along to such classics as "The ref-er-eeeeeeeee is a wank-eeeeeeeer" and "You're shiiiiiiiiiiiite and you know you aaaaaaaaaare."

I'm pretty certain the owners (Americans also) were overwhelmed with our, er, enthusiasm as 50 people were transitioning between shouting at players, rousing choruses of Rule Britannia then back to England chants. Interspersed of course with the inevitable orgasmic build up anytime it looked like we might actually score: yes, yes, come on, yes, yes, YESYESYESYESYESYENOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Anyway, its a good experience. Everyone should try it even if youre not even remotely English.

So. That's it then. We're done. I don't think the best team won but there you are (this is saying a lot based upon the fact the I previously admitted how crap we were when we won). Our lads played their hearts out today. Playing 2 hours  in the heat, one man down after Rooney was sent off. I think everyone should be proud of them. Its too bad half our team will probably not be on the roster for the next WC in four years but there you go.  

Beckham I'm sure will probably regret leaving the match as it was likely his last World Cup appearance. And Rooney had better learn to keep that notorious temper in check.

Now it's down to France v. Portugal and Italy v. Germany for the Cup and *sigh* not a single team I can get behind in the bunch. Although, Portugal had better not win. Bastards.

Other than what can be said?

"I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England and Saint George"

We wait for four more years. Sigh...

 

Baby Radar

What inescapable law of nature is it, do you suppose, that dictates that any child on any flight will cry at ear splitting decibels for almost the entire length of the journey and inevitably stop and fall asleep ten minutes prior to landing? Its the equivalent of a human egg timer for any one using laptops, gameboys and mp3 players on a plane.

1. Uninterrupted wailing for four hours.

2. Absence of screaming for thirty seconds

3. Announcement: At this time, please turn off all portable electronics and return all trays and seats to their up right locked positions.

Do babies have some undiscovered psychic link to air traffic control? Its uncanny.

Solace in the Arms of Three Lions

Despite a miserable week and depressing outlook on life at the moment, there is hope. That hope is the World Cup. Specifically England in the World Cup. 

We played our last two international friendlies this week beating Hungary 3-1 and this morning, I got up early to watch us play Jamaica. We just won 6-0.
Good things are coming. It's been exactly 40 years since we won the world cup. We've got our retro kits this year. I'm sporting my own England jersey with my Corona boxers this morning. Sexy!

So, here's my disclaimer: the next four weeks are all World Cup. I shall be distracted and potentially uncommunicative. So it'll be just like now only I'll be mumbling to myself out loud about football instead of the usual annoyances. How sweet it is.

Good luck out there to rest of you one billion viewers supporting your national teams but make way, the three lions are coming through!

[Editor's note: should all communication cease abruptly prior to the World Cup Final on 9th July, please check team standings and obituaries.]

Operation: Unpack. Status:Complete-ish

I've been living here for 5 1/2 months now and unofficially, I've officially finished unpacking. Sad, isn't it? 

No place is complete until you get something on the walls. Or a couple of somethings. I've been staring at blank walls for almost half a year now and finally I could stand it no more. So I've hung things on the wall. 

Well, I say "hung"... I mean, they're here ready to be hung but presently they're sitting on the floor. I'm about to hang them. Really! Well, not in a Basil Fawlty "I'm doing it, I'm DOING it!" sort of way, more in an "eh, I'll get to it later" sort of way. 

They're in the process of being hung and that's what counts really. They are in the vicinity of hung-ness. Approaching completion. Who am I kidding? They'll probably sit on the floor for another two weeks while I walk by them and think "I'm so happy my pictures are finally done" even though if you want to get really technical, they are in fact not done. 

The point is the damn things aren't packed away anymore. They are close to their final destination and it's only taken 5 1/2 months...of course, I've only got a 7 month lease and it's pretty likely I'll move to a different town in the area once it's up.......which means I'll be moving, in theory, in about six weeks. So I suppose I'll have to pack everything up again....

::silence:: ::crickets::

RIGHT! Hurry up!  ::sound of boxes being pulled out::
Put it all back the box!

Thank You Note

Dear Dave,
You're a c*ck sucker. I hate you. Best wishes for a speedy demise.
Sincerely,
SP
________________________________________________________

After numerous queries as to Dave's crime, the following elaboration has been offered.

I put in a request to have my clothes dryer repaired at the end of December.  Dave is the d*****bag who was supposed to fix my dryer on the 2nd January. And the 6th January. And the 11th January. Have I mentioned the 16th January yet? No, I must have overlooked it as I was, oh so, excited to hear that he'd fix it by the 20th January. This is the same Dave the d*****bag who rumour had it would definitely fix my dryer on the 21st. 

The Management office had a good feeling about the 23rd, apparently on that day Dave's chakras were supposed to align so he'd be able to DO HIS JOB. On the 27th, they promised he'd be here on Monday the 30th. 

On Tuesday, I had to use my angry voice from work and my colleague very nearly had to take the phone away from me. Today, which I might add is now February, I called FOUR times from work. By some miracle that shall never be repeated in my lifetime, DAVE managed to SQUEEZE my dryer into his busy schedule. 

He left me a note, saying he'd fixed it. I thought I should send him a thank you card. I hate you Dave. I hope you fall into a ditch. Failing that I hope a bird pecks your eye out.