2014 - Day 10 - Third USA Trip - Now its the bath tubs!

We are staying at the Marriott Grand Chateau in Las Vegas which is about a block back from the strip.  The Bear and I have no interest in staying on the strip with its bright lights and drunken adolescents. Las Vegas is the only city that I am aware of that is legal to walk along the street with an open alcohol container, and when young adults (for want of a better word) come to Las Vegas they use these freedom to the max.  The end result is overflowing waves of inebriated young guns spilling out onto the roadways and making one hell of a racket. 

The Grand Château would have to be the nicest hotel that we have ever stayed at.  The rooms are suites and seem to be tailored more for the “older“ person.  By that I mean that there is bingo at night,  coffee and wine tasting daily, and does not have a single slot machine anywhere within cooee of it. The suites are spacious, lovely and supremely comfortable.  The strip is only a block away should we need it, but the Bear and I simply do not have an interest.  We are here for the shows and shopping!

I do have one small gripe however and that is with the very modern shower that is in the room.  Rather than have a single shower rose where the water comes out of – instead it has two square panels of holes that spray the water from the wall. There is no way that the square panels can be moved to direct the flow elsewhere.  These panels sit at approx 6 1/2 foot high and when the water sprays out, it obviously does so in an arc with the water landing on the rear glass at approx 5 foot 2 inches in height.    I am 5 foot 2 inches in height.  This clearly means that when I step in the shower, I am immediately set upon by dual water sprays.  I cannot duck below the water, I cannot step aside from the water, I cannot stand on tippy toes to avoid the water.    My one attempt at having a shower was met with me doing something that similar to the robot in “Lost in Space”.  With soap in my eyes and dual torrents of water going straight into my face, my arms flung stiff and wildly. Had I have repeated “Danger Will Robinson” or “Crush, Kill, Destroy” I would have definitely passed as the robots evil twin.

This meant I had to find an alternative means of bathing.  No problem, this gorgeous hotel has a large bathtub in the suites…..in the bedroom (WTF is the go with that????) no less.  I hadn’t had a bath in a good 20 years (I had showers all of you smarty pants!) however this was a tub that looked like it could house a bum even of my size.  With the bath run, it took a little bit of doing to get into the thing, because as I have pointed out above, I am short.  The side of this bath was as tall as the top of my thigh yet I was still able to step into it carefully without splitting my difference.  I sunk into the warm water and actually quite enjoyed it.  I found myself asking why I had not had a bath in so long, before remembering again the size of my tush.  Question asked and answered.

I was not sure what sort of time frame was appropriate to spend in the tub but once I had all but exhausted my shower gel and made as many bubbles in my hands as I possibly could I felt that it was probably time to get out.  Pulling the plug I remembered my own words of safety that I would tell to my children when they were growing up.  You know….don’t stick your fingers down the hole….don’t sit over the hole or it will pull your bowel out through your bum….that sort of stuff…..and I smiled at the memory.  As it turned out, the joke was going to be on me.

I went to stand up in the tub.  No can do.  My shower gel had made the bottom so slippery my feet went out at odd angles.  Not pretty.   I tried again.  Same deal.  I figured I might try to get on all fours, like I would do if getting up off the floor as four limbs are better than two.  No so when your knees do the splits because this pretty much deems your hands useless.  I am fairly sure I invented a new aerobic move.   I could have at this point called out to the Bear for assistance, however this would have meant admitting defeat and that is something that I do not take likely….even if it means that the end result could be needing to have a proctologist remove a faucet from my behind.

Using my head (because seriously, that was the only part of me without the potential to slide) I ran a little bit more water to try to clean excess shower gel off the bath tub floor before trying the whole FRUSTRATING DAMNED PROCESS yet again.   I was a little more successful this time….getting to the point of something akin to a graceful new born giraffe, whose bandy legs waver and buckle before they finally give way and they fall in an undignified heap. 

At this point, I nearly gave up and would have sought assistance, when a light bulb went off over my head.  (Actually it was the Bear turning one on in the lounge room but it happily coincided with the answer to my dilemma)  I reached over the side of the bath tub and retrieved the bath mat.  I put the bath mat in the bath tub, which allowed me to stand and climb out….very delicately I might add.  Success!! 

 

Tonight we went to the Venetian for the second time (we went last trip as well) to see the " Motown" by Human Nature.  As some of you may know, Human Nature are a boy (now men) band from Sydney who had hits in Australia back in the 1990s.  Music recorded under the Motown label is by far my favourite genre of music so we take the opportunity to enjoy the songs of Motown at every given opportunity.  Human Nature have been very successful in Las Vegas and have done the Motown show for a number of years now.  We enjoyed it so much on the last trip here, we decided to go again.

I found myself sitting next to a lady and a husband from Detroit.  Of course this is not unusual given that we are in the USA so obviously we would find ourselves surrounded by Americans.  Usually they are remarkably friendly people who just love Aussies. And I love them.  The lady beside me.....not so much. This woman had a face on her like a bucket of smashed crabs and spoke just as eloquently.  She was three shades to the wind having consumed obviously too much Passion Pop and whilst she danced in her seat as though she was having a major fit (I nearly asked her husband if I could call 911) she clearly had a dislike of the Australian accent and our jargon.

If I ever hear this when we are travelling I tend to raise my voice so that I can let the offending person know that an Aussie is within earshot, however this was pointless given the loud music.  Having seen the show before, I also knew that an opportunity would arise where I could make our home country known.  During a set of Motown songs, the boys.....I mean men.....always sing one of their own songs that was a hit in Australia.  They chose "Every time you cry" which was a song they did with John Farnham and reached Number 1 on the Australian music charts.  At the end of this song, they said to the audience that they probably were not familiar with the song, as it was one of the songs that reached Number 1 in their home country and was recorded on one of their 13 albums.  Following this they ask if there are any Australians in the audience. 

Only those that are closest to me will know just how "out there" I can be (and I will take this opportunity again to apologise to Alyx for my doing so at her University Graduation) so will totally be able to imagine me launching myself from my seat, arms in the air, with an ear piercing "Wooooooooooooooohoooooooooooooooo".  Sitting back down in my seat my glance at the woman said "get that up ya!" and there was not another snide remark about the Aussie accent or jargon.

Just while I think of it, today we went back to Walmart to pick up some things that we forgot yesterday.  I would like to make mention of our checkout chick, “Bessie”  who was 150 in the shade.  A dear old woman, who looked just a little bit worse than my poor Nana as she lay in state, served us while she talked about moving from San Diego in 1952. (She had heard me mention San Diego as I was talking to the Bear about the city as that is where Nicco is at the moment)  I watched her with admiration wondering why a lady of this age should be working at this point of her life, and in a position where she has to stand up all day. If I could have shown her a comfortable chair and taken over the register for her, I most certainly would have.  I admire Walmart for employing people that are over 18 years old, unlike chain supermarkets in Australia, but I really have to wonder if the elderly in America are looked after worse than in Australia…and that is saying something.

2014 - Day 9 - Third USA Trip - A salute to women of America

*Note:  this is in no way a reflection on my friends in America and is not meant to offend in any way, shape or form. Read at your own peril!*


Today is my Mums birthday.  I was in the exact same place as I was on her birthday 2 years ago – Las Vegas.  Happy Birthday Ma!  I do make sure I phone home to wish her that.

Today we went to my favourite haunt here.  No…not a Casino!  Walmart! It’s at this establishment that I bow to those that I hold in such high regard – the American Woman.  It is they who I admire above all people and aspire to be like.  I kid you not. 

Each day when I dress to go to work, or to go to the store, or just simply potter around the house, I dress to cover up.  Not in skirts or dresses which might enable a petite thunder-thigh to be viewed by a poor unsuspecting soul.  Pants…..long pants/trousers/jeans/harem (ok…not harem) pants only dress these legs.  This also doubles as my contribution to saving a dollar on the weekly grocery bill.  Covered legs do not need to be shaved more than twice a year….only being required when visiting the gynaecologist.    This gives me a good 5 year lifespan on the razors I use.   The sleeves of blouses and tops must be at least elbow length. Occasionally I might live dangerously and wear a T-shirt but this will only generally be around the house and not where my tuckshop lady arms can be mistaken for dimpled swamp creatures only to be set on by some brave renegade in our local community.  I will take this opportunity to point out that my armpits do see a razor a little bit more often than my lower limbs as I find body odour more offensive than my own body (and THAT is saying something).

I come to the United States of America, the land of the Star Spangled Banner and African American Presidents and find that this country of great pride and patriotism harbours women who have more courage in their little fingers than I do in my past, present and future life bodies combined.   These women have the confidence and flare to dare step outside their front doors without the obvious hang-ups that hang heavy on my shoulders.   They experience a freedom which I cannot possibly understand and I dream for the day when I might be able to throw caution to the wind and experience it.  Just once.  Just once.

The American clothes sizing system is more generous than Australian.  If you are a size 16….then you are a true size 16 and clothes in every department store will fit you.  In Australia a size 8 in one store might be a size 22 in another.  American clothes are also better made than Australian, so if you are likely to put your arse through a set of britches in Australia, that is unlikely to happen in America.  In America the cost of a pair of trousers might cost you $20 at the most, where as in Australia it requires 2 months pay and a second mortgage on your house. And finally, American clothes are created for the modern woman, irrespective of your size.  So where as in Australia, if you are above an 18 you have to wear stretch nylon dresses with an elasticised neckline, in America you can where pretty much the same style clothes whether you are a size 8 or a size 28.   So, given this one would expect that all American women would be dressed stylishly or in modern clothes.  But….there is two things we have not covered here.  The need to be comfortable and the ability to not give a shit.  This is where I bow to the masters! (or should that be mistresses?)

Take a *cough* lady who is a size 24 for example.  The first rule in this country is that bras are optional.  Hallelujah!  The size 24 woman will understandably use this rule as her first amendment.    Not only are bras optional but so are sleeves……and shaved armpits.  The tops of her arms might be dimpled like feta cheese with her boobs hanging out of the sleeve holes amid the knee length, matted hair….but ain’t nobody gonna tell her to put those puppies back in the kennel!  No way Jose!  

And take a sized 30 *cough* lady whose derrière is wider than the state of California is long.  You just try telling her that she really shouldn’t be wearing those black, see-through, stretch (oh boy are they stretched) bike pants with what appears to be a iridescent green g-string (hang on…no….that’s her partners dental floss) underneath.  The letter “M” is tattooed on each butt cheek.  If you were to ask her what they stood for, she would bend over and tell you to “KISS THIS” and you would realise exactly what they stood for moments before she killed you. (For those that don’t get it….M.O.M.  If you don’t get it now, I don’t know what I can tell you)

And finally, take the *cough* lady who is a size 36, is 123 years old still with the mouth of a sewer who will leave her house in last nights pyjamas mixed with a New Year costume from 1952….well she is my all time favourite.  Anyone that gets to that age deserves a mention in my books.

I bow to all these *cough* ladies of America, for having the confidence to leave their trailer parks….I mean homes…..and be comfortable in what they are wearing.  They do not feel the need to cover up all of there bits and pieces….and more pieces....and so on.  In fact….I might give it a whirl myself tomorrow.  Watch this space!

2014 - Days 4 - 8 - Third USA Trip - Trying to catch up!

Thanks to having little access to the internet over the past week, I am just going to try to catch up by condensing one week into a couple of paragraphs before resuming my normal format.  This probably will mean that it will be a bit of a bore.  However, just to add a little bit of spice, I will place my points in dot point EXACTLY as I have written them in my travel diary. This is what I use to job my memory when I do my blog each night, however looking at my notes over the past week and a half, I am stuffed if I know what drugs I am doing because I cannot remember half of what they did!

 

So, here are my notes from 1 November – 5 November (days 4 – 8)  just as they are written:

 

• Californian Science Centre
• Bike Shop
• Malibu  (I then scratched Malibu as we didn’t get there)
• Jesus called me Senorita
• Petsmart – everything in Australia wants to kill you
• Venice
• Santa Monica
• Applebees Ducks
• Dennys spooky maple syrup (those on Facebook will have seen my video!)
• Nic cracking himself up making me yawn
• Ducks give me three extra dogs
• Disneyland birthday boy Bryan (not my husband obviously) playing with my bum (ermmm….pardon?)
• Rides not working
• Beverly Hills ad
• Hollywood filming
• Warner Bros proposal
• Traffic Jam
• Custom Hotel
• Deep maroon tiles
• Dark brown doors
• Black toilet bowls
• Cant see to vomit
• Jets of light from the floor
• LA -> Vegas via Victorville

 

So are you any the wiser?  Nope….me either!  But at least I can continue with my normal format now!

2014 - Day 3 - Third USA trip - Happy Halloween!!!

Happy Halloween!  It is absolutely mental how much the Americans celebrate this.  It’s like a season long party in this country.  They have Halloween, then Thanksgiving, and then Christmas.  It is all celebrated in a massive way with pomp and ceremony like you wouldn’t believe! 

Today we introduced Nic to “ In and Out Burger”.  This place has the most simple of menus, the cheapest of prices, the most immaculate and enthusiastic staff, and the most impeccably clean facility.  Most of all, this place has the tastiest burgers in America.  They are fantastic. They also use meat that has never been frozen; they hand cut their fries themselves; there is no added sugar in their bread rolls; and they make their burgers to order.  These burgers are ones that really DO look like the burgers as shown in their photo.  Just amazing. 

Today’s visit to “In and Out Burger”  came with a difference.  Thanks to it being Halloween every second person and their dog was dressed in costume.  The streets were filled with wizards and bumblebees, not to mention super heroes and cartoon characters.  This was all well and good….until the clown.  The scary clown.  The hideously scary clown.  Now Nic had a fear of clowns when he was little.  At the time I thought it was a little cute…and a little bit weird.  Clowns are friendly right?  Big happy smiles and noses that you can honk?  Not so apparently.
 

I was with the Bear waiting for our order.  I was looking around as I always do, locking away the images for when I go back to Australia.  I was calm…salivating at the smell of the flame grilled burgers.  And then our eyes met.  Staring back at me was the most evil clown that should ever walk the earth.  I stifled a scream and attempted to tear my eyes away…but it was too late.  The evil clown had me under his spell and it was fairly apparent that I was going to be hypnotised by his evil stare and become a slave to him.  He would have me trained to do awful things to other people when ever he rings a bell. 

 

 

 

Fortunately for me, an end to a possible car chase was taking place just outside the establishment.  Police cars with lights flashing blocked a vehicle from both sides to prevent the driver from escaping.   The clown-monster temporarily got distracted and looked away therefore breaking the stare.   I was fairly sure that the hypnotism had not yet been finished/successful so I was in the clear to run from this dangerous situation.  As we grabbed our order and left the store, I armed myself with a cup of ketchup (you serve yourself in small cups to take with you) to throw at him should he attempt to approach me or resume the hypnosis

.

 

After this we stopped in at a UPS outlets so that I could post a parcel to a friend in Tennessee.  I had brought it with me from Australia as it would have cost an arm and a leg via Australia Post.  Things were done a little bit different to Australia and the parcel will take a little bit longer to reach its destination but all in all it was a very pleasant experience.  The lady who served me was really lovely (as most Americans are) and gave service with a smile.  I just couldn’t quite tell if she was dressed as Old Mother Hubbard for Halloween, or, that it was just her usual attire.   I most certainly wasn’t asking.  I was still shaking from my near death experience with monster-clown.

 

Nothing beats getting over a traumatic event like a visit to Wal-Mart.  It is my second favourite place in the world!  The other patrons of Wal-Mart are notorious for looking daggy/boganish/downright-wrong so it makes me feel incredibly normal.  The Bear bought some clothes, and I got a couple of items. I bought some yummy cupcakes to satisfy a 6 month long craving.  Wal-Mart sell the BEST cupcakes and I can buy 12 o them for $3.  That’s right…..$3!!!   I also did a spot of Christmas shopping.  Of course the purchases can only be things that I am able to get home whether it be because of its size, its fragility, or it’s ability to be confiscate via customs.

Jet lag seems to be a bit of an issue this time around and I am buggered if I know why.  Usually trips to Los Angeles don’t affect me at all but this time I am a little out of whack.  Hopefully I will get my sleeping patterns right so that that I can giddy-up.  Tomorrow we are going to the Space Shuttle Endeavour at the Californian Science Centre to show Nic.  I am fairly sure that he wont be interested in most, but he will love the Space Shuttle….and the Tundra (a brand of pickup truck) that is also on display there as it pulled the Space Shuttle along the streets of Los Angeles on route to its final resting place!

2014 - Day 2 - Third USA Trip -- Being knocked over the head with a poo bat!

I am thrilled to be back in LA!  I am surprised I got here in one piece following my gymnastics during yesterday’s flight.  I got into some severe problems with my bladder however I made it through.  Once we landed and jumped through all of the hoops that is required at the border, we picked up our hire car and were on our way.  We had a reasonably quiet afternoon given that we were completely exhausted following the flight.  In fact, poor Nic’s eyes looked like two p!ss holes in the snow. He was struggling.

There was one thing though that we did have to do before anything else – hit Wal-Mart! I needed to purchase a kettle/jug as the American one that we had bought and used on previous trips had shat itself.   Hotels in the USA do not supply kettles for coffee making – instead they have things like a percolator which is all very well and good if you like drinking paint stripper.  When we travel we take our own coffee which is why we need the kettle.  Also, my constant companion is a hot water bottle (excellent for pain relief!) and I therefore need a hot water bottle for that.

We found a Wal-Mart within 10 minutes of where we will be staying so headed in that direction. If only I had the courage to photograph some of patrons that I saw. You know those emails that go out with stacks of photos of the weird ass fashion that Wal-Mart shoppers wear?  Yep….they are honky dory real.   I tried to photograph some fellow customers discreetly on a previous visit to the USA an ended up with a collection of photos that included a nostril, an earlobe, a couple of fingers and an elbow, a butt cheek (my own…don’t ask), several of the ceiling and the floor, and a partridge in a pear tree.   I could be my usual brazen self and whip the camera out, out in the open, however I have been sadly mistaken before when photographing what I thought was a person deliberately dressing up for fun…..when in fact they were just in their normal day clothes.  Errr whoops!

Nic was gobsmacked at the prices of items in Wal-Mart.  This included 4 litre bottles of Vodka for $8.99 and absolutely ginormous pizzas for $7.99.  He is depressed that he can legally carry 2 litres back into Australia.  I will no doubt visit several Wal-Mart locations before I head back home in 6 weeks.  I totally love Wal-Mart.  I have placed a bet on myself that we will purchase another suitcase to take things back in.  I am fairly sure that we are a sure thing.  Sure we are.  Sure to be sure.  Sure.

Our hotel is not far from Disneyland.  Usually we would spend our time in L.A staying at Pasadena which is just beautiful.  This time we are at Anaheim as it was just the cheapest place to stay this time.  The hotel is quite nice and comfortable and is very familiar given that we stay in the same chain of hotels whenever we travel. Unfortunately the toilet overflowed tonight which required a call to the front desk begging for assistance.  I will point out that we didn’t cause the toilet to overflow thank goodness, because if it was the result of anything I put down there, it is possible that the floor would have disintegrated.  I guess fortunately there is an abundance of HAZMAT teams in the USA at the moment.

We took Nic for a drive to Corona (the LA suburb….not the beer) some place that made parts for motorbikes or had something to do with a professional riding team.  I didn’t quite understand what we were taking him to but he apparently met one of his hero’s and he was over the moon.    I tried to reflect the excitement that he was expressing however was overcome by a god awful smell.  When we opened the car doors at Corona, a thick, sewerage smell totally enveloped the car.  I immediately wanted to blame Nic for it; however it was too bad even for him!  When we left Nic for a while so that he could walk through the factory that we had taken him to, we drove to a local drugstore just for a look.  (CVS is more than a drug store…it’s a one stop shop with the most amazing items at Thanksgiving and Christmas time!)  We hopped out of the car there, and were again knocked over the head with a poo bat.    Dead set, I looked around and people were carrying on with their day as though they couldn’t smell “Eau de Diarrhoea-mixed-with-rotten-rat-guts-and-bat-shit”.  Nic said that he had passed comment about the smell at the place he was visiting, and he was met with almost an offended look.  They had no idea what he was talking about.  I have no idea what is wrong with the people of Corona, but if I ever here the word “Corona” from now on, I will automatically imagine a large pile of hot, steaming, dog poo.

We also took Nic to Angel Stadium.  He couldn’t give a damn about baseball, but he does give a damn about the motocross events that are held there in baseballs off season.  Not a stones throw from Angel Stadium is the Honda Centre, home of Alyx’s beloved Anaheim Ducks.  We went to a ice hockey game there with her when we were in LA during our last visit.  Alyx is a little beyond obsessed with this team and I felt a little guilty being there without her.  Nic could have used the opportunity to totally piss his sister off however to his credit he refused to.  He wouldn’t even pose for a photo there.  To soften the blow, we went in and purchased the items as listed on Alyxs want-list which we added to some other items that we purchased earlier in the day.  This allowed us to place a big tick on our to-do list.

 

We had dinner at a place called Clancy’s Bar and Grill which is not far from the hotel. It looked nice enough and the menu appeared to be ok. We should have run when we were greeted by a short, dumpy, greying woman (not that there is anything wrong with that.  I could have been looking into a mirror) who was missing more than a couple of teeth.  She showed us to a table where we were quickly served by the loudest American that I have ever heard.  She looked as though she had just stepped out of a “Debbie does Dallas” movie and with one look at us, immediately thought we were there for a night of gluttony and grog swilling.  She looked more than a little surprised when I requested a glass of water, and the Bear and Nic ordered a coke.   She looked even further surprised when I ordered an appetiser (the same as an entrée in Australia) for my main meal, and when Nic and the Bear ordered something relatively small meals.  I wanted to point out that just because the Bear is a tall bloke, and just because I am the size of a house including the backyard barn, didn’t mean that we had to eat three quarters of the menu.   When we got our meals, that were certainly nothing to write about, and we decided that we would not be eating at Clancy’s ever again.  

Back at the hotel we settled in for the night and I was happy as a pig in mud given that there were several episodes of “The first 48” on the A & E channel.  Unfortunately the Bears night was disturbed with a certain short duck (not mentioning any names) who decided to go for a sleep walk again.  This has been happening on a regular occasion where I apparently get up and do some pretty weird shit and the Bear says he has a time and a half tying to shepherd me back to bed.  He can hold a conversation of sorts with me even though I apparently don’t make a great deal of sense. 

Hmmmm……doing weird shit whilst talking nonsense?  I am not sleep walking.  That is just me!

2014 - Day 1 - Third USA Trip - Oh no....not the toilets again! (Please do not read if offended by slightly vulgar tones)

Today is the day!  Back to the USA!  I am terribly excited…and apprehensive.  I won’t lie and say that international events such as terrorism and Ebola have not been on my mind, but that is not my biggest worry.  It’s Nic.    We are going to be spending a week in LA with him to show him the ropes, after which he will set off on is own tour of the West Coast, whilst we head to Vegas for a few days before our cruise. Once on the cruise, there will be a communication black out for obvious reasons.  Not only will we be without signal for days at a time, our American SIM cards will not work in Central and South America so will not even be able to do Facebook messages via my phone.  We are told that the internet on board is ridiculously expensive although I am sure that no price can be placed on peace of mind.  With Nic' s ability to find himself in the most awkward of situations, and due to the fact that he can be a complete knob head, I dread to think what mischief he can get up to in the USA when I am out of reach.  I mean….what if he is arrested for taking a leak in the Grand Canyon?!!
 

Alyx kindly takes us out to the airport and I feel guilty that we are going and she is not.  Of course we met her in LA earlier this year, but I still feel guilty.  :-(  Nic is clearly very nervous and is still wondering what he will do should he be sat next to a person wearing a turban or burka. 
 

Our day doesn’t start particularly well.  We headed towards the counter where we were to check in and took our place in a very lengthy line.  It was ridiculously hot and uncomfortable but we waited patiently, moving along the lengthy line as it progressed slowly.  I may or may not have allowed a couple of “baa’s” and “moo’s”  to escape from my lips all the while Nic continued with his random yet interesting questions.  Finally we get to the top of the line, and with sweat absolutely pouring off of us (ok Ma….perspiration) and we eagerly looked to see which staff member would call us through.  All of a sudden, a man appears from the left and asks us and several people behind us, to move to another counter which was opening up.  Confused, we followed him and were forced to line up again waiting for a lady to open her work station.  In the meantime, the line which we had just been moved from, continued to flow, and people that were several behind us in that line, were then promoted to the top of the queue. They were served whilst we watched with frustration from our new line which had failed to progress.  We have no idea what the staff member was thinking in taking people from the head of the check-in queue (where we had waited for a significant amount of time) and moving us to another line where we had to wait for staff to open their work stations.  Ridiculous.

Once we were checked in, and through customs (where Nic was tested for drugs...which he thought was very cool!)…..we went to look for a bite to eat and a coffee.  Nic was all eyes and set off saying he wanted to look for a newsagent to buy a magazine.  He came back concerned about the size of the 747 that we would be boarding on.  He apparently did not realise that there was more than a little difference between a 737 and a 747 and he went on to say (and I quote) “ F**k me!  It’s like a plane has another one on top of it”.  This only added to his concerns about the pilots ability to ensure that the plane stayed in the air for 13 or so hours.   His anxiety was becoming quite obvious yet despite this, his questions still kept coming…as did his commenting (loudly much to the dismay of some passengers) on his wish for our plane to not simply drop out of the sky. 
 

Once on board I settled back and decided to have a look at the entertainment menu so that I could form a game plan in an effort to help the hours pass by a little more quickly.  I figured I could get several movies in as well as a number of TV show episodes.   I might get square eyes however if it helped getting the time to pass a little more quickly then it would be worth it.  Just as a backup however, I decided to down a glass of wine in order to help me sleep for a little while.  As most of you know, I do not drink alcohol given the medication I am on so am not used to its side effects anymore.  Well…..this is where the fun (not!) began.  Seriously, I vowed not to have any issues with toilets on this trip! 
 

*Note:  the next paragraph may contain descriptions that some might offensive, if so please do not read further.
 

Having had a glass of wine, I was just chillin’ out when I felt my eyelids starting to droop.  I was tempted to succumb to the sandman however I needed to have a pee.  Given the issues that I have in my pelvis (I will put more details below) I have to empty my bladder quickly should the need arise.  So off I trot towards the nearest bathroom facilities.  As I approached the toilets, a drunken American dude stood swaying in the aisle, clutching a tinnie and obviously looking for someone to talk to.  As I needed to be able to pass him, I returned his hello.  Apparently this gave him the idea that I wanted to stop for a good old chin wag which clearly was not my intention.  I stopped for a little light banter as I said because I needed to be able to pass him.
 

After what seemed like forever, and the fact that my crossed legs now resembled some sort of macramé, I excused myself and made a frantic dash to the W.C.  My face fell when I got inside and saw how ridiculously small this closet....I mean bathroom was..…and please allow me to tell you why.  (Again please do not read ahead if you are offended by the images I create, or personal details about health issues)  I currently have a prolapsed bladder and a severely prolapsed bowel amongst other health issues down there.  I will be having surgery in January to correct these.   The side effects that are generated from these,  vary from person to person and can be very frustrating; on occasion very painful; and not to mention embarrassing.  For the purpose of this story, I will only need to mention one of these side effects -  I cannot pee normally.  The closest I can get to doing this “normally” is if whilst sitting on the loo, I bend forward and touch my toes.  For information’s sake, this apparently manages to somehow move things (or lift them up) therefore unblocking an obstruction which in turn allows me to wee.  Seriously, this has become a major inconvenience!
 

Entering the bathroom, it became glaringly obvious that I was not going to be able to sit on the loo and lean down and touch my toes. In fact I am sure that Qantas has reduced the size of their  on board facilities by half since I flew last. I was left with 2 options.  Sit it out and wait until we land in Los Angeles, or, simply find a way to pee.  As option 1 was really not an option, I had to go with option number 2.  I would need to find a way to pee.  My one glass of wine apparently gave me the false impression that this could be achieved!
 

First I thought I would do the sensible thing first and sit on the loo….just to see if I could bend over far enough. Nope…not a hope in hell.  I then thought bending down even just slightly might help.  Nope.  I tried several different things including trying to put my leg up on the impossibly small vanity basin.  Nope.  Why did I even bother trying with putting one leg on the vanity or think that it just might help? Bloody hell I don’t know. Probably because I could.  Oh…and because I had one stupid glass of wine.  After much banging of the walls and door; and after too many “ouches” and moans I was fairly sure that other passengers would have thought that I was trying for an entry into the “Mile High Club”.  I had to smarten up and get serious about this!  I was literally only a couple of seconds from peeing my pants! 

Miraculously the answer came to me! Without thinking this carefully through, I placed one leg down beside the toilet bowl where I could, and the other leg on the other side and while standing leaned down to place my hands on the floor.  I sort of looked as though I was trying to do Sesame Streets version of the letter “A” . As I couldn’t sit on the toilet whilst doing this, I prayed that my tinkle would land in the toilet and not elsewhere.  I also prayed that there were no hidden cameras in the toilet as I would have been winking from every direction.  The flow began so whilst this was extreme it was still successful, and my eyes actually welled up with tears with the relief it gave.   Well that was until we struck a bit of turbulence.  As it was I was struggling to maintain my A-frame position whilst keeping my head upside down.  My tipsy legs were buckling under the strain.  The turbulence bounced the plane around which in turn was my undoing.  I face planted the door and the floor, with my elbows splaying out in odd angles beneath me. The rest of me was sort of concertinaed at a seriously odd angle.
 

After checking that I had not broken any bones or teeth I managed to get my legs down and around and sat Budda like for a couple of seconds, just reflecting on my own stupidity.   I decided that I could probably go through the rest of this life and all of the next one without doing that again!   And as I cleaned up the obvious mess around me, I made a promise to myself (and to every other poor person who this affects) that there would be no more toilet mishaps or consumption of alcohol during this trip!  And no more self inflicted accidents. That is achievable right?

2014 - Third USA Trip - T minus 1 sleep and bloody hell Nic!

So it's time to say bye to my fur babies who are staying at home with Brian’ s Mum during this trip.  I miss them before I even leave home. L  I am cheered up by the knowledge that we are setting off for Brisbane where we will spend the night before our flight tomorrow morning.  This means one of two things:  we get to see Alyx tonight, and, we have Nic’s company in the car on the way down.  I think it would be safe to say that its been a good 4 years since Nic got into a car with us.  Nic’s habit of asking a run of extraordinary odd yet well thought out questions provides us with a never ending source of entertainment. I could hardly wait for the questions to start.

Do you know how you can say something, or make a wish,  or even ask a question.....and later find that you can not take back those words no matter how you try?  Once words have been spoken and visual images created, there really is no way that you can erase them from your mind.  Yes well….I had one of those moments. 

Sure the questions started easy enough.  I won’t give all examples of them here as they would become the star of my blog, and I don’t want that.  Instead I will just give you an idea of his mind set:

Nic:  does water taste different in America?

Me:  Hmmm….well I only drink bottled water and that is the same as Australia. I would expect that it would taste pretty much the same though.

Nic:  Don’t you drink water in the shower?

Me:  No Nic, I do not.

 

Nic:  Do they have Red Rooster in America?

 

Me:  Not to my knowledge.

 

Nic:  F**k.

 

*Pause*

 

Nic:  Does Coke taste the same in America because if it doesn't, I'm outta there?!

 

Me:  Yes it tastes the same.

 

 

Etc., etc., etc.  But after countless questions before we had even got to the bottom of the range:

Nic:  So how many fines have you got in your life?

Me:  Traffic fines?  (he says yes) Two.  One a few weeks before I married your father when I was booked for going through a red light, where as  I swear it was amber; and once with a radar gun along Hume Street  when we lived at Parsley Drive.  Why?

Nic:  Oh no reason….*mumble mumble mumble*

Me:  What did you do??

Nic:  Nothing.

Me:  Nic…what did you do?

Nic:  Nothing that you don’t already know about.

Me:  NIC!  WHAT DID YOU DO???!!!

Nic:  Oh you already know!  I told you…I was caught…….

Me:  Doing what??

Nic:  Taking a piss in Hogs Breath car park.  I told you about this.

Me:  F**king what???? You so did NOT tell me this!!

And the conversation continued.  To cut along story short, we had not even got down the range when we find out that 6 or 7 months ago, Nic was caught and charged with public urination.  It was a $44 fine which he paid the next day. My God!  His excuse….was that the only available toilets at that time were disgusting. Yep that is a seriously good reason to whip your wang out in a public place and take a leak.  The stupid thing was that Nic initially lied and told the cop that he did not do that.  The police mans reply was that he was seen directly taking the leak on the City Safe cameras. Whoops!  Sprung Nicco!  Good grief.

Nic proceeded to chat the whole way to Brisbane asking many a random question or giving us an insight to thoughts his mind tosses around.   Once we got to Brisbane we went and checked in to our hotel where we would be staying for the evening, and to pass a little time whilst waiting for Alyx to finish work.   Nic, who has very rarely stayed in accommodation such as this, immediately got to work and wanted to touch and investigate every single inch of the room.   He went through every drawer and cupboard.  He cracked us up with his exclamation (and pardon the language)…”there is a phone in the shitter?!?!?!” before moving on to the little cupboard next to the   fridge.

I was looking at Facebook on my mobile phone when Nic spoke with an extremely bad yet questioning French/Swahili accent….”Don Paris Nguyong?” I looked up to find Nic standing in front of me and pretending to be some sort of seedy waiter presenting me with a bottle of the restaurants finest.   He had found a cheap bottle of plonk in the mini-bar.  I reminded him that the wine/champers that he was trying to pass this off as, to be “Dom Perignon”  and should he ever really come across a bottle of “ Dom”  he is NOT TO TOUCH!   It’s too bloody expensive for him to drop…..because drop it he would!

We went to pick up Alyx from work and had dinner with her and Zoe at ironically, the Hogs Breath Café. After this we dropped them both at home, along with Nic who would be staying with them for the night.  I apologised in advance for his behaviour and shenanigans and made arrangements for the airport drop off in the morning. We went back to our hotel with all the very best intentions of getting a good night sleep.  I however was kept awake wondering how on earth I was going to be able to let my son roam America by himself and not stress about it.  Needless to say I was unable to come up with any reasonable thought processes …*sigh*  

Look out USA!  Tomorrow we are headed your way! And I apologise in advance for Nicco!

PS:  I miss my dogs already :-(