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Sh!t You Can’t Make Up

Alright, I know I’ve dished out more than my fair share of negative over the past year and I’m working on being more positive and blah blah blah, but THIS:

So today we land at about 8 am after flying all night in Air Niugini economy (small and smelly…aka no decent sleep and ALSO a flight we weren’t supposed to have to be on), and then we make the long trek home over the many-potholed roads of Port Moresby. There’s construction going on right now so it takes like 45 minutes of getting jostled around (where in the world all the taxes they leech from my paycheck go, I sure don’t know, but the roads aren’t it.) Once we arrive at our apartment, it’s drop our bags, shower, and turn right around and head to the office.

(I give all this background to my little tale of rage because CLEARLY I’m tired and running on a short fuse here. Maybe if this had happened any other day it wouldn’t have phased me.)

After about a half days’ worth of work my boss tells me to go home and get some sleep. (For which I am very grateful!) I decide to capitalize on the free afternoon and tell Mr. Engineer I’ll go get groceries (we have no food since we’ve been gone and all) and I’ll get a jump start on the laundry and unpacking.

I snag a car and have the driver take me to the grocery store with the best selection, which is also the one that’s farthest away…we usually only get there on the weekends. We pull into the parking lot and I’m getting out of the car when the driver informs me my apartment is now a no-go zone. And I can’t go home after we go here, so do I really want to buy groceries?

[No-go zones are the “bad” areas of town, as the name would imply. I don’t usually live in one. I thought.]

And why had my apartment become a no-go zone, you ask?

BECAUSE THERE WAS AN EFFING BOMB SCARE. At a building in the heart of the CBD (Central Business District), maybe half a mile from us.

I just…I don’t have the energy to express my exasperation. Almost no sleep…all that time in a car for nothing (I know I sound like a whiny brat here but I get SO motion sick on these damn pot-holey roads), and all I wanted was to do LAUNDRY.

LAUNDRY. Not even take a nap, or watch a chick flick, or paint my nails. JUST DO MY DAMN LAUNDRY.

(Oh look! I do have the energy to express my exasperation!)

It kills me that crap like this is becoming more and more commonplace. Not bomb threats specifically (hi dad! don’t worry I’m fine!) but crazy off-the-wall shit you just wouldn’t believe if someone told you. I barely believe it and it and I see/hear about it happen.

Hey look! Here’s a picture where I’m not being all stabby!

not bomb-scared! or ranting!

what?! oh, just some local fare.

Batman jumped off this building in The Dark Knight (in Hong Kong)

(None of these photos have anything to do with my rant, but I have no visual for me being so angry I might scream. Aren’t these more fun?)

That’s all I’ve got. Happy running.

That Time I Cried in an Airport

I’m currently blogging from the Cathay lounge in the Hong Kong airport…I’m supposed to be arriving back in Port Moresby right now, but our travel plans went a little haywire on this adventure.

We arrived at Jackson’s International in Port Moresby last Wednesday to catch our (direct!) flight to Hong Kong. We quite literally chose HK as our destination for this getaway only because we could fly there direct–normally you have to go through Australia to get anywhere (and we were looking to maximize fun time and minimize sitting in airport time, you know?) It was about 9:15 when we approached the check-in desk for our 11:45 flight.

And then they told us it was cancelled. No apologies. No explanation. Just “oh that flight is cancelled. Your travel agent didn’t tell you?” (We book our own travel, THANKS.)

And then I burst into tears on the spot.

You see, we try to leave the country every 6-8 weeks or so…we sometimes have business in Brisbane, or can take a weekend getaway to Cairns…but it’s essential to survival there. You just can’t possibly understand how depressing it is to be there with no break for much longer than that. Well this go-around, we hadn’t left in almost 3 months. This vacation had been my reason for getting out of bed in the morning for weeks. And poof! Cancelled.

We made our way over to the customer service desk where they tried to send us to the Philippines for an overnight to get to our eventual destination (no thanks) and then offered that perhaps we should leave tomorrow instead.

I’m not being dramatic when I say I could NOT go back to our apartment. Mr. Engineer agreed. We decided that if all else failed, we’d just go to Brisbane (there’s a flight there about twice a day).

After some harsh words (yes, Air Niugini, you WILL pay for our nonrefundable hotel if you don’t get us to Hong Kong, and you’ll do it NOW) suddenly a faster option became available. (Disclaimer: I’m not generally in favor of being a bitch to customer service people, but being nice was getting us nowhere. And they CANCELLED OUR FLIGHT WITHOUT TELLING US. WHEN WE HAD BEEN STUCK IN HELL FOR ALMOST THREE MONTHS. Desperate times, people.)

Suddenly we had about 11 minutes to check our bags, get boarding passes and board a flight to Cairns where there would be a connection to Hong Kong for us. And about 10 minutes later I was drying my eyes, seated next to Mr. Engineer on what must be the tiniest plane allowed to cross the ocean (those little things are scary!) en route to an Australian connection.

Our connection was on time, and we ended up in Tsim Sha Tsui about 6 hours later than we had originally intended–not bad, given how the day started.

new stamp!

 

a nice touch.

More later. I’m off to enjoy the complimentary food and a bloody mary here in the business class lounge (we’re flying economy but scored a lounge pass anyway…with free WiFi!)

Happy running.


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