At this point, Dale and I had been awake for about 18 hours. 5:45am Salt Lake time wake up, to 3:00pm New York time (1:00pm SLC) landing, to 7:00am London landing (midnight SLC). I had tried to sleep on the plane, but thanks to the usual uncomfortable airport chairs and the very interesting games Delta also supplied to each passenger, I had only gotten about 75 minutes of REM before just trying to watch another movie. The games involved the woman behind me tapping the back of my head every 60 seconds--as that's where her touch screen was located--and the woman in front of me having manic fingernail tap sounds emitting from her touch screen for 30 second stretches every 2 minutes. It was an amazingly orchestrated situation. Even so, my exhaustion didn't hit me until our plane's wheels hit the ground. It was at that moment that the adrenaline produced by knowing that at any moment I was minutes away from plunging to my death stopped pumping and I finally felt like I could sleep through all the tapping my seat neighbors could produce.
Lana--Dale's sister--came to pick us up a bit tired herself. She had awoken at 5:30am her time to pick us up from the airport. It was just barely 1am my time, so I was still functional.
It was foggy and I was groggy, so my first exposure to London wasn't too exciting. Beautiful countryside, cars that drive like seats in a Disneyland ride, yellow liscence plates, some funny accents... I was ready to sleep.
By the time we got to my sister-in-law's home, there were still four hours left until church began, and at least two hours after that until I could go to sleep. I think I presented myself as a human being to my nieces and brother-in-law, even played some games before taking my second shower of this long day and feeling eerily like 'I shouldn't be doing this right now.'. Something inside my body was demanding it, but Dale insisted that if we just push through this first day with no sleep, it would make the rest of the week infinitely better.
Whoever thought up 2 pm Sacrament meeting should be shot.
I have never understood people who claim that they fall asleep at church. There is always something that an adult can focus on to keep interested. I remember a teenager talking of seminary, and a man who--strangely enough--had been introduced as the former bishop claiming he had calculated the length to our premortal existence to 13,000 years using verses from the book of Revelation. Other than that I had fallen asleep sitting up at least a dozen times. I had brought a blanket with me, as I had been shivering violently in my sleep-deprived state. My husband looked sincerely worried about me. This was my first experience staying up for 24 hours straight.
That night was 'Cake Fest,' a birthday party for my brother-in-law that was actually really fun! Lana had made four separate cakes from scratch--all gormet and exotic--and the guests were so friendly and jovial! At this point, I really wanted to stay up, but perhaps a bi-product of sleep-deprivation, perhaps a natural reaction to my drinking milk, perhaps my body trying to communicate with my mind in a way I couldn't ignore, but my body started producing noxious smelling gas which I could not contain within my person.
It was at this point that I exited the party and went to bed. 9 pm England time, 2 pm Salt Lake time, and 33 hours after I had woken up the previous morning.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
To Heathrow!
Our overseas airplane had a middle section of four seats that looked like death to sit in, and then two outter sections with only two seats in them each. Dale and I had an entire little love seat area to ourselves! Kutos to Delta for laying out pillows and blankets on each person's seat at the beginning of the long flight, and not only continuing to have free TV, but free wifi AND free new release and not-yet-released movies. I watched the King's Speech again--which I LOVED the first time, and still adored the second.
Dale and I read 20 pages from a book we'd intended to read 100's of pages from on the flight, but he was so excited for each step: staring out the window to see the plane start to move toward the runway (he did this for about 20 minutes as we weren't yet moving, but he wanted to be in the moment), taxiing out onto the runway, waiting for our turn on the runway, and finally taking off. It was exhilerating to know that this event we'd looked forward to for over half a year was now coming about. We were in the air, over the Atlantic!
Dale and I read 20 pages from a book we'd intended to read 100's of pages from on the flight, but he was so excited for each step: staring out the window to see the plane start to move toward the runway (he did this for about 20 minutes as we weren't yet moving, but he wanted to be in the moment), taxiing out onto the runway, waiting for our turn on the runway, and finally taking off. It was exhilerating to know that this event we'd looked forward to for over half a year was now coming about. We were in the air, over the Atlantic!
Layover--New York
The only part of our trip that I was familiar with and knew to look forward to was New York. I love the sounds, the way people dress, the variety of people, the quality of the public areas, and I had been really looking forward to a real New York Sandwich. Even though we couldn't leave the airport, there was still some great food available. Dale and I found a hot pastrami and corned beef on a Kaiser roll with hot mustard, and decided on two slices of New York Pizza on the side. The meat on the sandwich was tender, and the whole thing was flavorful and juicy. Not the kind of juicy that you find in a McDonalds burger, where the fat and katsup from the bun are falling all over the place, but the kind of Juicy that has retained and enhanced the natural juices of the meat and is now intoxicating your taste buds.
As good as that was, it was just the prelude to the pizza. New York Pizza is the best I've ever had. Dale had a bacon and cheese slice, and mine had sweet barbecued chicken and whole quartered tomatoes on it. You very rarely in life have a meal as memorable as that was. I can still remember what that tasted like, and would be up for it again for any fancy meal Dale wanted to go to.
I freaked out when I saw a pigeon inside the food court. This is an entirely sealed off airport. We had to walk about a quarter mile to get from one connection to another--all inside. It felt so picturesquely "New York" to find a pigeon eating the remnants of people's meals in an indoor complex at least a half mile of tunnels away from an entrance or exit.
Once the meal was over, we went walking around and I found a sapphire and white gold ring on the floor of the terminal! I walked to the nearest gate and explained our situation to a stewardess, but she behaved as if she had never before heard of the concept of a lost and found. If the person who lost their ring is reading this, get in touch with JFK: unless the stewardess took it home, it should be at some newly-created lost and found.
As good as that was, it was just the prelude to the pizza. New York Pizza is the best I've ever had. Dale had a bacon and cheese slice, and mine had sweet barbecued chicken and whole quartered tomatoes on it. You very rarely in life have a meal as memorable as that was. I can still remember what that tasted like, and would be up for it again for any fancy meal Dale wanted to go to.
I freaked out when I saw a pigeon inside the food court. This is an entirely sealed off airport. We had to walk about a quarter mile to get from one connection to another--all inside. It felt so picturesquely "New York" to find a pigeon eating the remnants of people's meals in an indoor complex at least a half mile of tunnels away from an entrance or exit.
Once the meal was over, we went walking around and I found a sapphire and white gold ring on the floor of the terminal! I walked to the nearest gate and explained our situation to a stewardess, but she behaved as if she had never before heard of the concept of a lost and found. If the person who lost their ring is reading this, get in touch with JFK: unless the stewardess took it home, it should be at some newly-created lost and found.
Take off
Other than the fact that we've been preparing for this trip for months (planning, writing papers early, getting clearance to miss class from professors, etc) our trip began with the airport. Thanks to Sam and Christy Wardell for driving us there at 6:00am!
The excitement started when my mind woke up and realized I was really sitting in the SLC Delta gate. I started to play the games I had planned and looked forward to on my iPhone, including covertly recording the conversations of people with accents who had the misfortune of sitting around me. A flight to JFK airport is a whole heck of a lot more diverse than a trip to Burbank or Vegas. I even heard some Spain Spanish! However, when I recorded a man giving his private information to a car rental company I realized how creepy I was being and stopped.
On the plane an awkward New Yorker man sat next to us on first flight and wanted to talk... It was a 5 hour flight. We learned the intimate details of his experience on 9/11 and how it hurts him to miss the twin towers in the NYC skyline every time he flies in. He told us about his London trip, and suggested several things we are not going to see. He was nice, but we found a convenient out in the free onboard television. Dale watched some Jack Black/Ben Stiller concoction, and I watched 4 back to back episodes of Flip this House. It was foggy over the whole country that day, it seemed, so there never was a very good view until we got to Jersey. Once the clouds parted, we got to see New York City and the Atlantic, enjoying the anticipated emotions of 'I am really doing this' as we were half way there!
We didn't see any views of downtown from the plane, but did see the first shelf drop off of the Atlantic ocean and beautiful houses on the shore and thought it might be an exciting place to live.
The excitement started when my mind woke up and realized I was really sitting in the SLC Delta gate. I started to play the games I had planned and looked forward to on my iPhone, including covertly recording the conversations of people with accents who had the misfortune of sitting around me. A flight to JFK airport is a whole heck of a lot more diverse than a trip to Burbank or Vegas. I even heard some Spain Spanish! However, when I recorded a man giving his private information to a car rental company I realized how creepy I was being and stopped.
On the plane an awkward New Yorker man sat next to us on first flight and wanted to talk... It was a 5 hour flight. We learned the intimate details of his experience on 9/11 and how it hurts him to miss the twin towers in the NYC skyline every time he flies in. He told us about his London trip, and suggested several things we are not going to see. He was nice, but we found a convenient out in the free onboard television. Dale watched some Jack Black/Ben Stiller concoction, and I watched 4 back to back episodes of Flip this House. It was foggy over the whole country that day, it seemed, so there never was a very good view until we got to Jersey. Once the clouds parted, we got to see New York City and the Atlantic, enjoying the anticipated emotions of 'I am really doing this' as we were half way there!
We didn't see any views of downtown from the plane, but did see the first shelf drop off of the Atlantic ocean and beautiful houses on the shore and thought it might be an exciting place to live.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
I Phone coming!!!
Confession: I have yet to own an Ipod. They started coming out in highschool (more than 8 years ago), but I figured it was just a phase for those wicked people who stole music off the internet. The mere ownership of one suggested support of copyright infringement! As they became more common, I figured my $15 CD player, and amenities included car stereo was just as good as a $300 i-pod which would be limited by the music I own.
That last cognitive conviction stuck for relatively 8 years.
My best friend gave me her old computer when I came home from an LDS mission in 2008. It had over 5,000 songs on it--some legitimately purchased, others downloaded from questionable sites, others "shared" from friend's computers. I figured that so long as I am not the one who took the music in the first place, then I can't be to blame for owning it when someone else would have thrown it away.
I used her folders, her organization, her huge conglomoration of music that is slightly off-skelter with my choices for the last three years. I finally bought my own first laptop in November 2010. 25 years old and finally have a PC just for me! With this new sense of empowerment given by a personal piece of electronics, I decided it was time for me to organize all the music in my posession and USE it in the fashion directed by the new millenium.
Step One: Review all songs on laptop and delete songs I don't like. "Songs I don't like" is a generous way of saying "songs with profanity, songs referring to violence, sexual violence, or general disrespect of people."
Step Two: Upload CD collection onto computer.
Step Three: Organize all of the above into folders. "Dance music," "Feelin' lovey," "Drive to the Beach," etc. We all have them, and they are all cheesy.
Well, I've been on Step One for two months now, have deleted roughly 400 songs, and am still in the early "F"s of the alphabet. The Iphone I have been hoping for since Christmas is coming tomorrow, and I won't be able to use it as an Ipod for another 20 letters, or probably another 4,000 songs.
I really don't know how people feel like this is worth it. Or maybe I'm just not benefiting from the obsessive commitment of focusing on it in my teenage years.
That last cognitive conviction stuck for relatively 8 years.
My best friend gave me her old computer when I came home from an LDS mission in 2008. It had over 5,000 songs on it--some legitimately purchased, others downloaded from questionable sites, others "shared" from friend's computers. I figured that so long as I am not the one who took the music in the first place, then I can't be to blame for owning it when someone else would have thrown it away.
I used her folders, her organization, her huge conglomoration of music that is slightly off-skelter with my choices for the last three years. I finally bought my own first laptop in November 2010. 25 years old and finally have a PC just for me! With this new sense of empowerment given by a personal piece of electronics, I decided it was time for me to organize all the music in my posession and USE it in the fashion directed by the new millenium.
Step One: Review all songs on laptop and delete songs I don't like. "Songs I don't like" is a generous way of saying "songs with profanity, songs referring to violence, sexual violence, or general disrespect of people."
Step Two: Upload CD collection onto computer.
Step Three: Organize all of the above into folders. "Dance music," "Feelin' lovey," "Drive to the Beach," etc. We all have them, and they are all cheesy.
Well, I've been on Step One for two months now, have deleted roughly 400 songs, and am still in the early "F"s of the alphabet. The Iphone I have been hoping for since Christmas is coming tomorrow, and I won't be able to use it as an Ipod for another 20 letters, or probably another 4,000 songs.
I really don't know how people feel like this is worth it. Or maybe I'm just not benefiting from the obsessive commitment of focusing on it in my teenage years.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Scars no more!
In class the other day, the professor asked if any of us had some favorite scars. As a kid I would have jumped at this question. As an adult, I really had to think.
My childhood scars have all faded--a medication I started taking about two years ago even has the side effect of controlling my acne--I have a burn on the back of my hand from cooking around Thanksgiving--but I don't like it, and I have two scars on my left calf that came from tripping over household furniture that REALLY hurt, and just made me mad at the furniture.
As a kid I would have pointed out the burn on the side of my arm from a curling ironing accident, the fact that my nostrils are slightly misshapen from the time I broke it when I was nine (I liked the idea of being an LA girl and telling people I'd gotten a nose job), and a chip removed from my collarbone that came from a humorous event when I ran full sprint into the foundational supports of a 3 meter spring board at a public pool.
But really, those all happened between 7 and 20 years ago. I've either gotten more boring, or more coordinated.
Only future blogs will be able to tell!
My childhood scars have all faded--a medication I started taking about two years ago even has the side effect of controlling my acne--I have a burn on the back of my hand from cooking around Thanksgiving--but I don't like it, and I have two scars on my left calf that came from tripping over household furniture that REALLY hurt, and just made me mad at the furniture.
As a kid I would have pointed out the burn on the side of my arm from a curling ironing accident, the fact that my nostrils are slightly misshapen from the time I broke it when I was nine (I liked the idea of being an LA girl and telling people I'd gotten a nose job), and a chip removed from my collarbone that came from a humorous event when I ran full sprint into the foundational supports of a 3 meter spring board at a public pool.
But really, those all happened between 7 and 20 years ago. I've either gotten more boring, or more coordinated.
Only future blogs will be able to tell!
22 months and still strong!!
Dale has been working at Farm Bureau Insurance for just over a month now. He's got his cubie all decked out with Slovakia stuff and toys--as indicative of my sweetheart's playful nature--and of course, at least 5 pictures of me :) What can I say, I like that my husband loves me!!
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