Spiderman - Turn Off the Dark

Dear Mr Bono and Mr The Edge:

Your music is uninspiring. Really. Truly terrible. The cast tried, bless them, they fucking brought it - but your score! OMFG, talk about amateur.

I'm no expert, but I know what I appreciate in a musical. Let me tell you, Messrs Bono and Edge, you need to spend a little less time trying to look like spokespeople for Raybans and a little more time watching Rodgers and Hammerstein.

That's all I'm saying.

Disaster at LAX

Disaster! With only 1 hour at LAX to clear immigration, collect my baggage, pass customs, re-check my baggage, pass domestic security and get the fuck onto my New York flight; I made it to the gate with fully five minutes to spare before the scheduled take-off time.

This was despite the total lack of helpful signage, flight information screens and even escalators to take you from the ground to the 4^th floor as required. (LAX is getting some renovations and, apparently, commuters don’t need all these fancy trimmings.)

Naturally, the gate was closed, locked and abandoned by all airline staff.

Lucky for me a surly janitor was able (though apparently unwilling) to point me in the direction of the United Airlines customer service desk.

Unlucky for me the service desk was clogged with approximately 100 other people who had variously missed their connections or had been booted off a flight to Denver that had been unceremoniously cancelled, leaving 200 people in the lurch. Apparently this is what flying domestic in the USA is like All. The. Time.

Joy.

At this point I would like to make special mention of the lack of organised ground operations. At no point during immigration, customs or domestic security processing was any attempt made to identify and/or fast-track commuters with a time critical connection – I am pretty sure this is a standard activity in Australian airports.

So I get in the queue and I wait, and I wait, and I wait, wait, wait, wait. I miss the next available flight while I am waiting. Finally I reach the front. I am put on the stand-by list for the next flight and I bugger off to the gate to await my milky doom.

While I am sat typing this – Success! My name is called and I am on the flight. It’s two hours later than my original, and jeebus knows where my bags will be, but I am one step closer to getting where I needed to go.

Post script: it turns out, presumably because this sort of shenanigan happens all the freakin’ time, UA were competent enough to get my bags switched on to the actual flight I was actually moved onto. So it all turned out for the best in the end.

And now I am in my hotel in Manhattan watching Adult Swim and waiting for the sleepiness to kick in. There seems to be quite the happening club on downstairs, which I would totally check out if I had not only had 5 hours for intermittent doze time in the past 24.

Please sleep, take me. Take me now!

True quote

The space between your ears exceeds modern measuring techniques, a vacuum of cosmological proportions, an absence greater than the distance between the furthest of geriatric galaxies, a terminal cataclysmic nihilistic aberration inconceivable by the sum cognitive ability of a dozen generations of intellectual progeny.

Birds with arms

Seriously, you NEED to look at this.

Things is OK. Just normal and boring etc.

I go to work, come home, drink too much wine and go to sleep. Have put on weight – oops!

My sis is moving to Byron Bay in about a week. He partner’s brother and his young family live there. They were both bored of their Melbourne existence and hated their rental house but had no luck getting a fresh one, so they decided to bugger off for an adventure. Good for them.

13 working days until I got to Port Douglas!

I am full of exclamation points today.

20% of a job well done is not very useful at all

I got knocked up by accident just after Damien and I decided to think about maybe trying to have a baby; which was great because it meant that we didn't have to do all that tedious 'paying attention' to fertility cycles and shit. But I lost it at 9 weeks, which is not uncommon, so now we have to start over.

This is a shame because the baby was due on 24 November and I like November, conceptually, as a time of year to be born in. Probably because that's when my birthday is. Also, it turns out that Damien's uni mate Kachig is having his second baby right at that time, so they would have been the same age.

Oh well.

I was quite upset about it for a few weeks afterward, but I am OK now.

I was also really looking forward to getting out of work for 6 months or so because my job is beginning to piss me off a bit. Well, not my actual job. It's my workplace and some of my colleagues that are the cause of the irritation; but that is a very complex and quite boring tale for another time.

Thank you, fellow human, for your courtesy in this matter

This is what happened to the 'shit car' while I was in the gym last night.

There was no note.

Suck it

I want to write more, really I do - but what is there to say?

I've been a bit down lately. Also, sick.

I got this virussy thing before Xmas, which turned into an infection. Then I got a whole new infection on top of the first one. I had no voice on Xmas day; which was not necessarily a bad thing.

My dad was all, 'Haha! How are you going to be able to get all drunk and expert now?'

And I was all, 'I still can, only you won't hear what I said and I'll stay out of trouble - Score!'

It worked a treat.

Clearly I am my own worst enemy

I did not make any New Year's resolutions because they are for chumps; but I find myself attempting to ingest less alcoholic fluids, less sugar and less food generally. It's been going OK for the past week or so - which is as long as I have been at it - but it is soooooo boring.

Why do my only hobbies involve wine and cheese?