6:00am: Wake up.
6:02am: Be sad that The Food Network is showing infomercials. I don’t want a set of cheese graters. A foot grater, on the other hand… Anyhoodle, snuggle back into blankets.
6:10-10am: Get up again, pack, poke around on the Internet, wait for rain to stop.
10am-1:30pm: Last wander around New York, involving more chocolate and peanut butter buying as well as the necessary purchasing of snacks for the plane. (SNACKS ON A PLANE!)
2:30pm: Arrive at airport, ridiculously early as per usual, but for good reason this time.
2:31pm: Strip bandage from toe and dignity from self, then walk to Qantas counter and point at foot whilst asking if anything can be done for Le Poor Cripple.
2:35pm: Overflow with gratitude for being given a seat up the back of the plane with a spare seat next to it, so that Le Poor Cripple can keep Le Stupid Toe elevated.
3-6:55pm: Read trashy magazines in airport shops (Brad and Jen caught kissing? I don’t believe it. Kate Gosselin a nightmare parent? I don’t care. Also, captioning a photo of her wiping her son’s mouth with “Kate gets aggressive with child” is revolting). Savour last Starbucks Frappuccino, which is not revolting. Read Mansfield Park.
6:55pm + 5 hours: Plane leg from New York to LA. Watch It’s Complicated, while constantly being interrupted by American man two seats to my right asking me questions such as:
* Do you have abalone in Australia?
* Did swine flu go to Australia?
* Did you get your shots for it? [Me: Yes]. Good, good girl.
Midnight-1:40am (New York time): Chill with my homies in the transit lounge.
1:41am: Acquiesce to a homie’s request to put her shoes and hair rollers in my bag, because she’s scared of her carry-on being too heavy.
1:42am: Hope have not just become accomplice in terrorism.
1:50am: Board plane. Return goods to homie. Sigh with relief that am not a criminal.
2am + 14 hours: Eat ratatouille with rice, which am unable to get photo of because light is non-existent. Watch The Invention of Lying, while constantly being interrupted by American man two seats to my right asking me questions such as:
* Can you watch geese and swan fly in formation from your house?
* Is Canada part of the Commonwealth?
* Have you been to Africa?
In same period of time: Sleep[ish]. Breakfast.
8am (Australia time… New York time would be 6pm): Disembark in Sydney. Customs. Hold breath while lady checks out my peanut butter stash and my Sahale “Almond PB & J” trail mix. Get the all-clear. Woot!
8:30am-9:30am: Get stuck in never-before-seen (by me) queue in the domestic transfer area.
9:30am (original flight to Canberra having left at 9:20am): Accept that queue is moving at the rate of cane-toad migration from Queensland, and limp over to Qantas lady. Yep, it’s the return of Le Poor Cripple. And I’m darn proud of myself, too – something good has to come out of the toe, right?
9:32am: Move to head of line.
10:40am: Get on plane to Canberra. Have 453rd can of coke since getting on first flight. Don’t even like coke very much.
11:35am: Arrive in Canberra. Greet parents. Discover that only one of two suitcases (checked in at exact same time) made it.
11:36am: Realise that the suitcase that didn’t arrive is the one with all the chocolate. Wonder if this is how parents feel when their kids are stolen. Feel glad that didn’t steal woman’s pug in Paris.
11:45am: 453rd bathroom trip of day.
12:30pm: Visit maternal grandparents, who look wonderful and happy and healthy and whom I love dearly. Risk being disowned by wonderful grandma, though, by stating that Mansfield Park shall not be a favourite and repeated read in my life.
1pm: 33 hours after leaving hotel in New York, arrive home.
4pm: Woken up by mother. Open eyes and ask “Who else is in here?” (Hostel habits die hard.) Then exclaim moments later, before she’s answered, “I’m in Australia!”
6pm: Dinner out with the parents. Second attempt at green papaya salad.
7:15pm: Affogato with Baileys. And decaf coffee. Oh, please let it have been decaf.
10:10pm: Finish writing post. Blame any dullness in it on discombobulation and tiredness.
10:15pm: Stop eating peanut butter from jar with spoon. (I can never go to bed after a meal out without also having something at home too. A solid nightcap, if you will.)
10:40pm: Publish post.