Australia, Here We Come − 6 June, 2000
Today was the big send-off. It has been a whirlwind of activity the last few weeks: out processing from the Air Force, getting our house packed and cleared out, going away parties, and getting the pets sorted out. Even without going into detail it sounds like a big fucking headache, but with the exception of getting Indy shipped over, it has been relatively painless.
Except for turning our house back over to the landlord. Cock-sucker claimed his inspector said the carpet in the downstairs bathroom was so bad, the only way it could have gotten that bad was that we locked our dog in there all the time. First, Indy never went in there. Ever. Second, and more importantly, I called the landlord several times over the past two years about how the toilet in the downstairs bathroom had a leaky base.
The greedy bastard just didn't want to give us back our deposit, which really pisses me off since I did a lot of work in the upstairs bathroom that he didn't pay for.
Back to the story... My wife and I were all packed up yesterday -- four monster-sized suitcases packed to bursting with clothes and necessities. We were up early this morning and my wife said her good-byes to Sancho then went to her sister's apartment to spend time with her family. I hung out with my family and re-checked all our bags. My mind was in such a haze that I don't remember much of what we talked about.
The next thing I know I'm at the airport with my wife, waiting at the check-in counter. Once we had our tickets and unburdened ourselves from our huge-ass suitcases, we went with our families to the gate. [Yeah, this was back in the day when people could go to the gates without a boarding pass.]
We were there plenty early, so we had about an hour with the families. Talk was pretty much exhausted by now, so we were standing around gawking at each other. My brother-in-law and I don't do well in these situations, so we started wheeling around in the airport wheelchairs. And, uh, role-playing. Suffice it to say that we are both going to hell.
When it came time to board, the tears started flowing. Not from me or any of the other guys (of course). I could tell, though, that my dad was getting a little choked up when I gave him a final hug. That nearly got me started. I expected mom to shed some tears in this situation, but dad was always fairly stoic -- not unemotional, just in control.
Part of me was excited to get on the plane and get going. The other part of me felt like I just got dropped in a big bucket of "what the fuck are we doing?"
On the plane, my wife had her tear-streaked face up against the window trying to spot our families watching from the terminal as we taxied away. We must have looked an odd pair: a puffy-eyed, crying woman and a guy with a big shit-eating grin on his face.
We switched planes in Los Angeles and continued on to Sydney. The flight was over 16 hours long. I was so stoked, I didn't even notice. Everything about the flight was a novelty to me. I think my jovial disposition on that flight pissed off some of the other passengers -- if they were miserable and hated lengthy air travel, then everyone should.
I liked to fart by these people when I walked by them as I strolled the aircraft. Yeah, I'm that guy.
Before I knew it, we had landed.
Holy shit. We're in Australia.
Except for turning our house back over to the landlord. Cock-sucker claimed his inspector said the carpet in the downstairs bathroom was so bad, the only way it could have gotten that bad was that we locked our dog in there all the time. First, Indy never went in there. Ever. Second, and more importantly, I called the landlord several times over the past two years about how the toilet in the downstairs bathroom had a leaky base.
The greedy bastard just didn't want to give us back our deposit, which really pisses me off since I did a lot of work in the upstairs bathroom that he didn't pay for.
Back to the story... My wife and I were all packed up yesterday -- four monster-sized suitcases packed to bursting with clothes and necessities. We were up early this morning and my wife said her good-byes to Sancho then went to her sister's apartment to spend time with her family. I hung out with my family and re-checked all our bags. My mind was in such a haze that I don't remember much of what we talked about.
The next thing I know I'm at the airport with my wife, waiting at the check-in counter. Once we had our tickets and unburdened ourselves from our huge-ass suitcases, we went with our families to the gate. [Yeah, this was back in the day when people could go to the gates without a boarding pass.]
We were there plenty early, so we had about an hour with the families. Talk was pretty much exhausted by now, so we were standing around gawking at each other. My brother-in-law and I don't do well in these situations, so we started wheeling around in the airport wheelchairs. And, uh, role-playing. Suffice it to say that we are both going to hell.
When it came time to board, the tears started flowing. Not from me or any of the other guys (of course). I could tell, though, that my dad was getting a little choked up when I gave him a final hug. That nearly got me started. I expected mom to shed some tears in this situation, but dad was always fairly stoic -- not unemotional, just in control.
Part of me was excited to get on the plane and get going. The other part of me felt like I just got dropped in a big bucket of "what the fuck are we doing?"
On the plane, my wife had her tear-streaked face up against the window trying to spot our families watching from the terminal as we taxied away. We must have looked an odd pair: a puffy-eyed, crying woman and a guy with a big shit-eating grin on his face.
We switched planes in Los Angeles and continued on to Sydney. The flight was over 16 hours long. I was so stoked, I didn't even notice. Everything about the flight was a novelty to me. I think my jovial disposition on that flight pissed off some of the other passengers -- if they were miserable and hated lengthy air travel, then everyone should.
I liked to fart by these people when I walked by them as I strolled the aircraft. Yeah, I'm that guy.
Before I knew it, we had landed.
Holy shit. We're in Australia.
Comments:
peahayes (May 24, 2008. 12:24pm)
I'm with your wife.... I probably would have been in tears too.