The real Tuesday post (23 November 2004)
Finally, I'm catching up. Just a little bit. Here goes:
23 November 2004
Last night was the first night at Barb and Peter’s that I actually woke up in the middle of the night and needed to negotiate my way back to the house to go to the bathroom. It was 3:30 AM. Peter had already left for his shift. I woke up again at 8:30, forced myself to stay in bed until 9:15, then got up and took a shower. Had some breakfast (toast and generic nutella, with two halves of a mango done up Aussie style – cubed and inside out on the peel), and then got on e-mail for a bit to post a new blog chapter and respond back to the slew of Monday work e-mail. Pretty soon after that, it was time to go to the airport. I said my farewells to Bernie and the cats. Barb said Bernie was likely to sulk for 24 hours once I left.
We’d left a bit early so on the way in, we could stop at Troy’s bakery. (Troy was Barb’s apprentice baker. She’s known him for 20-some-odd years.) She needed to pick up some plum pudding bowls that he had borrowed. The bakery looked and smelled great, and I instantly bought an apple scroll (a not too sweet rolled up bun with apples and raisins in it). Troy, however, was nowhere to be found, and the girls in the shop didn’t know what Barb was talking about. Barb finally managed to phone Troy and he said he was home, about to shower, but he’d come back right after that. Barb told him we’d wait and have a cup of coffee. She asked the girl for two cappuccinos which the girl made for us, while asking, “Did you reach him?” Barb said she had and that he was on his way back. When the girl went to ring up the coffees, Barb shook her head and said, “No, no, don’t you worry about that.” To my amazement, the girl only looked slightly confused, but she said okay, so we took the coffee outside and sat down. In the states, you’d instantly be told off if you instructed the cashier to not ring an item up! I noticed a post office across the way, so headed in that direction to get a few more postcards and stamps. When I came back, Barb was gone (inside with Troy, I assumed) so I sat down and waited for her until she reappeared with Troy, the plum pudding bowls, and six packs of gluten-free bread starter.
We drove the remaining half hour to the airport past some interesting billboards including one that read, in big red letters: “SEX”. Underneath it said, “You don’t need flowers. You don’t need chocolate.” But where or what exactly it was advertising I’m not sure. Still, I’m certain you wouldn’t find that in the U.S. At the airport, the restroom doors each sported pictures of condoms with various slogans like “Fly the flag!” and “Travel insurance for just $1*” (I don’t know what the asterisk was for.)
The Melbourne to Brisbane flight was, for the first time this trip, delightfully uncrowded and I had three seats to myself except for the woman in front of me who put her seat all the way back, and the two girls behind me who kept kicking (what seemed to me to be) all three chairs in my row constantly. As soon as I was able, I set up my laptop and watched one of the movies that Barb had loaned me, Brother Bear. It was cute and Disney and I’m a sap so I cried at all the sad stuff. My Brisbane airport experience was the most expedient one I think I’ve ever had. I stopped at the restroom briefly and then made my way down to baggage claim where I instantly spotted my bag and hauled it off the belt. I was outside looking for a taxi in all of ten minutes.
I got to the hotel where we’re staying and presented myself at the reception desk as “one of the Richards’ party”. They asked who I was and seemed to have a note with my name on it as legitimate, so they gave me a key. No one else in this suite had checked in yet. I asked what room I might find Christina Silver and was told they didn’t have a record of anyone of that name. I repeated it and spelled it. They were quite certain. No one by that name staying here. Okay, fine, I told them, she’s probably just under her company’s name or something. I found our suite and checked it out. Three bedrooms – one with one single bed, one with two single beds, and one with a double bed. Obviously the last one would be Lyn and Tom’s, but what about the other two. How many of us were going to be here? I was severely tempted to take the single room, but was polite and put my stuff in half of the two single bed room. I figured Kakali and I would share again because the chances that our other visitor would be female and in her 20s was slim, so she or he would probably want their own room. We’re in dorm-like housing really. There’s a kitchen, living room, and small bathroom, but it’s minimal; there is indoor/outdoor carpet and concrete block walls. I sat outside and read for an hour, and then came inside to mess with my computer a bit.
The phone rang. I answered and it was reception. The message was convoluted, said the receptionist. Lyn had called and said they would be late, not making it for dinner, but a Dr. Kaczynski (that would be Dan) and a Dr. Silver (Chris) were going to be meeting in the lobby at 6:30, and would I like to talk to Dr. Kaczynski about it? Sure, I said, and started to ask about Chris, but I was transferred to Dan. We agreed that I would meet them, as previously planned, at 6:30 in the lobby. “Are you in the same place as Chris?” he asked. “I don’t know!” I said. “Well, I just talked to her,” he said, and I quickly realized we must not be in the same place if she was in her room already. “What about Kakali?” he asked. “Yes, she’s going to be with me, but there’s no one here yet,” I said. (In truth, I didn’t know where Kakali was going to be. There was discussion (her and me) of her bailing on staying here when we were still in Melbourne just because of how things had gotten a bit out of hand at the Richards’ house.) “Where are you?” I asked Dan. 314. I was in 312. And Chris? He didn’t know. I met up with Dan outside our rooms – we’re across the street from each other – and we started to walk up to the lobby. He then decided he wanted a jacket, so he turned and went back while I continued walking. Chris was standing outside having a cigarette. “I was so worried about you!” she said. Turns out she had just run into Kakali, and having heard Lyn wasn’t here yet, Chris had gotten concerned about my well-being and whereabouts. “You’ve stopped rolling your own,” I noted. “Nah, I just nicked this from someone,” she said, “I got worried about you.” “Don’t smoke on my behalf!” I joked. “Oh no,” she said, “I’m smoking on account of Lyn!”
The four of us (Kakali soon joined us) walked half an hour or so to an Irish pub Dan knew of in the middle of a shopping mall. The walk was along a highway and conversation between the four of us was impossible given the noise so I walked half the way with Chris, then dropped back to walk with Kakali. Chris had had a great weekend with her cousin, roaming the bush, and visiting old gold and copper mines. Talking more quietly she said, “I hired a car for tomorrow.” I could have hugged her on the spot. We’re going to the Gold Coast. I have no idea where that is, nor how to get there, but Chris had said previously we could take a bus or something. I had half a thought to checking out our options when I got here, but ended up letting it go, thinking we’d work it out tomorrow or, more likely, it would fall through and we’d do something else. “You drive,” I said to her, “’Cuz I’d get us killed!” She laughed. I was so thrilled she’d check out the possibilities and then act on something. Hooray for someone being decisive!! She said the bus would have cost $20 each EACH way, plus the taxi to the bus station here and the taxi to the beach there. Renting a car was $50 for the day.
Kakali had had a less great weekend with her mother and step-father. Her mother had been ill much of the time, which had made Sydney exploring prospects bleak. Worse, Kakali and her step-father were having not entirely unexpected difficulties.
We finally reached the pub. Most of it was in a courtyard outside, so we ordered our food and beer (VB for me) at the counter and grabbed a table. We attempted to talk about how the panel would go, but Dan seemed more interested in sitting back and watching us hash it out than actually providing any structure or help, so soon the conversation lapsed into the rules and idiosyncracies of cricket. (To me, all rules in cricket are idiosyncratic!) A 1-2 beer night for each of us, we caught a cab back to the hotel, and Dan picked up the fare, a whole $8. Dan headed immediately for his room, but Kakali stopped us in the parking lot. She had a lot of family shit going on, and was still debating “the rock and the hard place” between staying with her mother and step-father or staying at Lyn’s. There’s obviously much more to this story, but not something to be shared on a blog. Chris and I gave her a hug and I repeated my/Lyn and Tom’s suite number to her, should she wish to come stay with us.
Lyn and Tom passed by at just that moment, on a run to catch the restaurant before the kitchen closed. When I got back to the suite, I showered, and got on the computer to do more fiddling. Kakali called and came over to figure out what room she’d be in so as not to walk into Lyn and Tom’s in the middle of the night. She was in rough shape, nearly in tears, as she described what had happened most recently with her parents. Lyn and Tom came back in right then, though, and Lyn went off on her usual “We have a problem” proclamations over virtually nothing at all. I wrote a page plus about that particular sentiment, and then started writing this. The idea was to stay up long enough for Kakali to return so we could watch the beginning of a funny movie, and chill out a bit. But it’s near midnight (btw, Brisbane is one hour earlier than Melbourne, so it’s 9 AM for you guys EST and midnight for me now), and she’s not back, so I’m giving up.
I’m meeting Chris at 8:15 tomorrow. Despite Lyn’s announcement that she would be up and out before all the rest of us at 8:30 (not asking when the rest of us were leaving) so no one should “cross” her in the bathroom because she got first dibs and that was that. Both Kakali and I will be out of the suite by then but Lyn didn’t ask for that information. If I’d known other people before I got here, things would have been different.
23 November 2004
Last night was the first night at Barb and Peter’s that I actually woke up in the middle of the night and needed to negotiate my way back to the house to go to the bathroom. It was 3:30 AM. Peter had already left for his shift. I woke up again at 8:30, forced myself to stay in bed until 9:15, then got up and took a shower. Had some breakfast (toast and generic nutella, with two halves of a mango done up Aussie style – cubed and inside out on the peel), and then got on e-mail for a bit to post a new blog chapter and respond back to the slew of Monday work e-mail. Pretty soon after that, it was time to go to the airport. I said my farewells to Bernie and the cats. Barb said Bernie was likely to sulk for 24 hours once I left.
We’d left a bit early so on the way in, we could stop at Troy’s bakery. (Troy was Barb’s apprentice baker. She’s known him for 20-some-odd years.) She needed to pick up some plum pudding bowls that he had borrowed. The bakery looked and smelled great, and I instantly bought an apple scroll (a not too sweet rolled up bun with apples and raisins in it). Troy, however, was nowhere to be found, and the girls in the shop didn’t know what Barb was talking about. Barb finally managed to phone Troy and he said he was home, about to shower, but he’d come back right after that. Barb told him we’d wait and have a cup of coffee. She asked the girl for two cappuccinos which the girl made for us, while asking, “Did you reach him?” Barb said she had and that he was on his way back. When the girl went to ring up the coffees, Barb shook her head and said, “No, no, don’t you worry about that.” To my amazement, the girl only looked slightly confused, but she said okay, so we took the coffee outside and sat down. In the states, you’d instantly be told off if you instructed the cashier to not ring an item up! I noticed a post office across the way, so headed in that direction to get a few more postcards and stamps. When I came back, Barb was gone (inside with Troy, I assumed) so I sat down and waited for her until she reappeared with Troy, the plum pudding bowls, and six packs of gluten-free bread starter.
We drove the remaining half hour to the airport past some interesting billboards including one that read, in big red letters: “SEX”. Underneath it said, “You don’t need flowers. You don’t need chocolate.” But where or what exactly it was advertising I’m not sure. Still, I’m certain you wouldn’t find that in the U.S. At the airport, the restroom doors each sported pictures of condoms with various slogans like “Fly the flag!” and “Travel insurance for just $1*” (I don’t know what the asterisk was for.)
The Melbourne to Brisbane flight was, for the first time this trip, delightfully uncrowded and I had three seats to myself except for the woman in front of me who put her seat all the way back, and the two girls behind me who kept kicking (what seemed to me to be) all three chairs in my row constantly. As soon as I was able, I set up my laptop and watched one of the movies that Barb had loaned me, Brother Bear. It was cute and Disney and I’m a sap so I cried at all the sad stuff. My Brisbane airport experience was the most expedient one I think I’ve ever had. I stopped at the restroom briefly and then made my way down to baggage claim where I instantly spotted my bag and hauled it off the belt. I was outside looking for a taxi in all of ten minutes.
I got to the hotel where we’re staying and presented myself at the reception desk as “one of the Richards’ party”. They asked who I was and seemed to have a note with my name on it as legitimate, so they gave me a key. No one else in this suite had checked in yet. I asked what room I might find Christina Silver and was told they didn’t have a record of anyone of that name. I repeated it and spelled it. They were quite certain. No one by that name staying here. Okay, fine, I told them, she’s probably just under her company’s name or something. I found our suite and checked it out. Three bedrooms – one with one single bed, one with two single beds, and one with a double bed. Obviously the last one would be Lyn and Tom’s, but what about the other two. How many of us were going to be here? I was severely tempted to take the single room, but was polite and put my stuff in half of the two single bed room. I figured Kakali and I would share again because the chances that our other visitor would be female and in her 20s was slim, so she or he would probably want their own room. We’re in dorm-like housing really. There’s a kitchen, living room, and small bathroom, but it’s minimal; there is indoor/outdoor carpet and concrete block walls. I sat outside and read for an hour, and then came inside to mess with my computer a bit.
The phone rang. I answered and it was reception. The message was convoluted, said the receptionist. Lyn had called and said they would be late, not making it for dinner, but a Dr. Kaczynski (that would be Dan) and a Dr. Silver (Chris) were going to be meeting in the lobby at 6:30, and would I like to talk to Dr. Kaczynski about it? Sure, I said, and started to ask about Chris, but I was transferred to Dan. We agreed that I would meet them, as previously planned, at 6:30 in the lobby. “Are you in the same place as Chris?” he asked. “I don’t know!” I said. “Well, I just talked to her,” he said, and I quickly realized we must not be in the same place if she was in her room already. “What about Kakali?” he asked. “Yes, she’s going to be with me, but there’s no one here yet,” I said. (In truth, I didn’t know where Kakali was going to be. There was discussion (her and me) of her bailing on staying here when we were still in Melbourne just because of how things had gotten a bit out of hand at the Richards’ house.) “Where are you?” I asked Dan. 314. I was in 312. And Chris? He didn’t know. I met up with Dan outside our rooms – we’re across the street from each other – and we started to walk up to the lobby. He then decided he wanted a jacket, so he turned and went back while I continued walking. Chris was standing outside having a cigarette. “I was so worried about you!” she said. Turns out she had just run into Kakali, and having heard Lyn wasn’t here yet, Chris had gotten concerned about my well-being and whereabouts. “You’ve stopped rolling your own,” I noted. “Nah, I just nicked this from someone,” she said, “I got worried about you.” “Don’t smoke on my behalf!” I joked. “Oh no,” she said, “I’m smoking on account of Lyn!”
The four of us (Kakali soon joined us) walked half an hour or so to an Irish pub Dan knew of in the middle of a shopping mall. The walk was along a highway and conversation between the four of us was impossible given the noise so I walked half the way with Chris, then dropped back to walk with Kakali. Chris had had a great weekend with her cousin, roaming the bush, and visiting old gold and copper mines. Talking more quietly she said, “I hired a car for tomorrow.” I could have hugged her on the spot. We’re going to the Gold Coast. I have no idea where that is, nor how to get there, but Chris had said previously we could take a bus or something. I had half a thought to checking out our options when I got here, but ended up letting it go, thinking we’d work it out tomorrow or, more likely, it would fall through and we’d do something else. “You drive,” I said to her, “’Cuz I’d get us killed!” She laughed. I was so thrilled she’d check out the possibilities and then act on something. Hooray for someone being decisive!! She said the bus would have cost $20 each EACH way, plus the taxi to the bus station here and the taxi to the beach there. Renting a car was $50 for the day.
Kakali had had a less great weekend with her mother and step-father. Her mother had been ill much of the time, which had made Sydney exploring prospects bleak. Worse, Kakali and her step-father were having not entirely unexpected difficulties.
We finally reached the pub. Most of it was in a courtyard outside, so we ordered our food and beer (VB for me) at the counter and grabbed a table. We attempted to talk about how the panel would go, but Dan seemed more interested in sitting back and watching us hash it out than actually providing any structure or help, so soon the conversation lapsed into the rules and idiosyncracies of cricket. (To me, all rules in cricket are idiosyncratic!) A 1-2 beer night for each of us, we caught a cab back to the hotel, and Dan picked up the fare, a whole $8. Dan headed immediately for his room, but Kakali stopped us in the parking lot. She had a lot of family shit going on, and was still debating “the rock and the hard place” between staying with her mother and step-father or staying at Lyn’s. There’s obviously much more to this story, but not something to be shared on a blog. Chris and I gave her a hug and I repeated my/Lyn and Tom’s suite number to her, should she wish to come stay with us.
Lyn and Tom passed by at just that moment, on a run to catch the restaurant before the kitchen closed. When I got back to the suite, I showered, and got on the computer to do more fiddling. Kakali called and came over to figure out what room she’d be in so as not to walk into Lyn and Tom’s in the middle of the night. She was in rough shape, nearly in tears, as she described what had happened most recently with her parents. Lyn and Tom came back in right then, though, and Lyn went off on her usual “We have a problem” proclamations over virtually nothing at all. I wrote a page plus about that particular sentiment, and then started writing this. The idea was to stay up long enough for Kakali to return so we could watch the beginning of a funny movie, and chill out a bit. But it’s near midnight (btw, Brisbane is one hour earlier than Melbourne, so it’s 9 AM for you guys EST and midnight for me now), and she’s not back, so I’m giving up.
I’m meeting Chris at 8:15 tomorrow. Despite Lyn’s announcement that she would be up and out before all the rest of us at 8:30 (not asking when the rest of us were leaving) so no one should “cross” her in the bathroom because she got first dibs and that was that. Both Kakali and I will be out of the suite by then but Lyn didn’t ask for that information.
posted by Jen at 7:25 PM
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