ridiculously cute christmas kitty

I’m having an affair. I know its wrong, but I can’t help it. He’s younger, sweeter, looks at me with adoring eyes, curls up in my lap and loves when I rub his tummy. Right now, I’m lying on the couch and he’s stretched across my neck like a purring fur scarf.

I thought green eyes gave him a sort of Christmas devil look.

In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m referring to a cat. A kitty to be exact. If a full-grown cat were lying stretched across my neck, I’d have probably suffocated by now. Especially if it were Cassie. I love my cat but she looks like the abominable snowman compared to this little guy.As you can imagine, the abominable isn't too thrilled about the newest addition.

The kitty* is my nieces’ Christmas present and we are “selflessly” keeping him until the girls go to bed tonight and Santa brings him over. My dad and I have been taking turns playing with him. Some might call it terrorizing but I’d like to think of it as product testing to ensure that he can withstand the tender ministrations of my nieces Elmira and Godzilla. He went in there on his own...I swear.

One last thought before I say goodnight on this rainy but cozy little Christmas Eve: You know you’re a true stalker when you have no kids but are seriously obsessed with NORAD’s Santa tracker.

*The kitty is currently nameless and the girls are in charge of that task. The last time I asked them what they would name a kitty if they got one for xmas the responses were "Christmas" and "meow". They clearly did not inherit my creative streak. I would have named him Billy...

SNOW!!!

Saturday morning I woke up to something I’ve not seen over 18 months:

On days like this, I wish I had skis…I wish I knew how to use skis. But for now, I’ll settle for pretending like I’m 10 again and go play in it with my nieces.

insert witty title here...I'm too tired to think of one myself

One of the things I truly miss in Australia is the driving. I don’t particularly care for the traffic or the other crazies on the road but I love being in the car with nothing but me, my thoughts and my horrible singing voice to keep me company. It’s not the same in Sydney where I walk everywhere…I could sing at the top of my lungs on the way to/from work but I imagine the people from the hospital, which I pass everyday, would escort me to the psych ward for a “chat”.

On Friday, my need for vehicular wandering took me down to the old neighborhood in search of nostalgia and old friends. I haven’t been down there in several years, which really isn’t very long, but if you think about the distances I’ve covered in that time, it seems much longer. The neighborhood itself hasn’t changed. Our old house still has the same lawn ornaments and the mailbox that I “nudged” during a driving lesson (and thereby traumatizing my father) is still there. Outside the neighborhood, the area has sprouted Walgreens, Starbucks and other chains in places that were just fields when I was a kid. I guess you can’t go back…but at least you can get a Peppermint Mocha.

As I drove around, I admired the outdoor Christmas décor that seems to be unique to the US (and maybe Canada but I’ve never been so who knows). And then I saw one house that will haunt me for years to come. In addition to the usual displays of plastic Yuletide joy, 12 of those blow-up “statues” graced the front lawn (I’m not exaggerating the number). These items are bad enough in all their glory but in their deflated and dejected state, the yard looked like the scene of some anti-Christmas terrorist attack.

The evening was spent catching up with the high school friends who I only see once a year but that doesn’t seem to curb the gossip-mongering. I’ve known them forever but somehow, until tonight, I’d never heard the story in which she “stalked” her now-husband that puts me to shame*. Clearly we are kindred spirits. The only one missing from the evening was Leslie and that always makes me a little sad. But if there is a heaven, then she is in it, watching over me and probably had a good laugh when I nearly wiped out walking to my car that night.

Next up: SNOW!

*Yeah I know. I didn’t think it was possible either.

travel summary

Hours of travel: 38 from door to door. Longest travel day ever. I’m really surprised about how well it went. Fairly uneventful but still, I can always find something to comment on.

Flights: 3…longest flight: 13hrs; shortest flight: 35 min

Flight delays: 0!!! Rather amazing and rather ironic considering how long my layovers were.

Minutes spent in Dec 12: my mind cannot comprehend such complex calculations.

minutes spending talking to ticket agent in Sydney*: 20… It was a simple request: my travel schedule covers two ticket reservations but could they check my bags to the final destination? The agent said it is possible if the layover is less than 12hrs. Because mine was 12hrs and 15 min the guy actually said “too bad” in a sing-song voice and then said I’d have to hold onto my bags in SF until 4hrs before my flight. The thought of lugging my luggage around for 8 hours was less than appealing. The situation was clearly not his fault but still I was tempted to abandon my zen attitude in favor of punching him.

minutes spent talking to ticket agent at SFO: 5… when I got off the plane, I just wanted to know the earliest time I could re-check my bags and the nicest lady ever tried to get me on an earlier flight and when that didn’t work, she checked my bags. She is my new favorite person. I can’t remember who my previous favorite person was, but sorry you’ve been dethroned.

Hours spent in Red Carpet Lounge: 9. A 12 hr layover in SF and the weather was horrible so rather than taking a quick trip into the city, I opted to spend it in the Red Carpet Lounge: land of “free” internet, food, and cozy chairs.

Time of first snow spotting: Dec 13, 454am. As we were landing in Chicago, I saw snow for the first time in over 20 months (snow pack in the Rockies doesn’t count). That it was surrounded by the industrial mess only slightly lessened my child-like excitement.

Sudoku games played: 11. Sadly the second game took me 8hrs on the plane. I would like to say its because I was sleeping or otherwise occupied but no…it was an easy one too. I feel shame.

Movies watched: 4. The airline festively played Elf. Then I brought along LOTR to watch during layovers, etc. Strange movie connection: If, according to Elf, elves can only make shoes, cookies, and toys, why don’t we see them doing any of this in Lord of the Rings?

Hours slept: I think a total of 5, which isn’t bad for me. The best sleep was on the flight to Chicago until the guy behind making snoring noises reminiscent of dying geese. Thankfully, a short bout of turbulence shook the snore out of him and I was able to sleep in peace.

Minute spent feeling like white-trash in first class: pretty much the whole flight to Chicago.

Chicago-style hotdogs consumed: Sadly 0. The hotdog stands in O’Hare weren’t open yet but I considered paying off a vendor to open early. However the only money I had in abundance was in Australian currency which looks suspiciously similar to Monopoly money.

What made the whole sleep-deprived day worthwhile: walking out of the terminal and seeing my two nieces running towards me yelling “Aunt Laura, Aunt Laura!!!” as if I was the coolest person in the world.

*Every single time they swipe my passport at the check-in they get this strange look on their face and I expect big burly security guards to come to my side and whisk me off to an interrogation room.

Day 429: travel essentials

In alittle over 48hrs, I will be getting on a plane and beginning the most ridiculous travel schedule ever conceived by my bright self. Projected door-to-door travel time is 36hrs. I’ve had travel days almost as long as this one so I know what I’m getting into. When embarking on a travel day of this magnitude, one does not merely hop on a plane with a book and some water. The packing of the carry-on bag involves strategic planning on the level of D-Day.

Passport: won’t get far without it…not even out of Sydney.

Reading Material: It is essential to distract one’s why-can’t-I-sleep-on-planes/what-was-that-noise-did-the-wing-fall-off* spastic thoughts with a good book. Ideally, a good trashy chick-lit novel is the perfect reading material, but then you run the risk of looking like a vapid female. Tthis is especially important when flying in business class and are trying to snag a rich husband…of course maybe that’s what they’re look for. hmmm. Either way, I’ve chosen to take the intellectual route: 1) Jane Austen’s “Persuasion” (trashy chick-lit for the cultured female) and 2) Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road” (not only is it a Pulitzer Prize winner, but Viggo Mortensen is on the cover!).

Reading lamp: yeah there’s the overhead light, but turning that thing on when your neighbors are trying to sleep is guaranteed to get you a nasty look.

The iPod: Music selection is crucial on the long-haul flights when the flight attendants decide to play “Journey to the Center of the Earth” three times in a row and the in-flight music caters primarily to Brittany fans. A wide range of music is needed for every occasion including those moments when you are futilely beckoning sleep (classical, maybe some xmas) and those moments when you are futilely warding off sleep (I’m going with a strange mix of Smashing Pumpkins and various bluegrass artists).

Travel pillow: It’s not a flattering look for anyone to have this thing wrapped around your neck, but it’s the most worthwhile travel-related purchase I’ve ever made. The eye mask is also nice…the image I’m painting of myself is not flattering but I’m flying economy and the whole snagging-a-rich-husband strategy doesn’t apply.

Work-material: Delusions of motivation go well with sleep-deprivation.

Travel toiletries: no one wants to be the smelly kid but after 30+ hours, it’s inevitable.

Patience: its going to be a long day with delays, sleep-deprivation and who knows what else. Freaking out usually doesn't do anyone much good and the airline staff tends to put curses on you that result in canceled flights and such. Plus, its ALWAYS good to be nice to the customs officials. Last time, the officer asked me how my flight was and I responded "I flew business class!" in an excited voice and was probably mistaken for someone who ate paste alot as a child. But he laughed and let me through.

Have I actually packed any of this? HAHAHAHAHA…um no (I may have to go out and buy some patience). I still got 48 hours.

If anyone has any other items they think are necessary, let me know!


*I hope I didn’t jinx things by writing that…