Tuesday, October 19, 2010

CF

OMG. Have been up since forever.

I know I said I'd write the next entry from India but this doesn't count as US soil either. I am in the twilight zone. It's dark out and I am surrounded by more bags than the luggage department at Macys.

I have organized this move badly. Talk about penny wise and pound foolish, monetarily and weight wise, I have been an idiot. A container load of our stuff went out the door days ago and to save money I let "some" stuff stay behind for us to take along with us.

"Some" stuff has quickly morphed into 11 suitcases which are so bloody full that if I even so much as approach them with a sharpened pin they might burst.

What do I have in them? Dashed if I know anymore. A couple jars of almond butter and three boxes of cereal and clothes have grown into stuff that can cause suitcases to break at the handle when lifted. That happened at 9 pm last night. My husband lifted one to weigh it and like glass, I kid you not, the handle shattered at the seams like glass. Bloody hell. What a CF!

More than half of what I have in the suitcases could have been brought later by hubby who will frequently travel. But where will the stuff stay is the question? With sweet younger sibling of course. And sweet younger sibling has a sweet bachelor pad-one bedroom I might add that is also bursting at the seams with stuff I plan to bring over time. My poor brother's face grew more and more tense as he saw boxes and suitcases of stuff piling up in our dining room for him to "store" for us. At first I tried reassuring him saying I'd buy those fancy under bed thingamajigs. I did but hey beds are only so wide. After a while I gave up trying to minimize. So piece of advice Don't attempt to visit said sibling for at least six months. You may not see much beyond the door. Six months should give him enough time to find a place for all the stuff I've piled upon him. Or lose them conveniently, whichever comes first.

I need coffee. My baby will be up in about thirty seconds and I know I am not going to get much sleep on the plane, business class or not.

Oh yes we are traveling business. Its not our usual style. Haven't quite got around to that yet. No we usually travel what my brother refers to as kutta class or dog class or in more refined terms, Economy. No eleven suitcases or free champagne for you there, my friend. International Economy is where they offer you meals thus, "Veg or non veg madam?" Err...I know I have six seconds to respond before she will make the decision for me. Lets see I like beef (but not airline beef for that can be tough. Once ordered a steak that wouldn't cut with the sorry excuse of a knife they provided. I don't eat chicken. This lot wouldn't offer shrimp and the fish if any would be something they found fishing in open drains someplace. Veg, I say before she can make a face. Then I venture to ask. What meal is it? Politely I might add. She shrugs as though I have slighted her. "I don't know." As if to say, we might feed you lot this junk, doesn't mean we eat it.

That's fine. Veg it is. How bad can their creamed peas be huh?

So we have coughed up a small fortune for business and will thus enjoy our pain among the more privileged and in style.

I just hope they agree to check us in first.

Now where is that coffee...

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