There is an inevitable cycle that occurs every time it comes to writing about our vacations.
It starts with the high. I love to travel, there is nothing I would rather do than see the world. So to me, each and every vacation is like taking a hit of a potent and highly addictive drug.
When I come home, I start having withdrawals. I stay in the house for a week moping around in a depressed state, blaming my condition on jet lag... which in turn inspires me to start planning the next trip, like an addict would search for their next fix.
(This drives Lee insane and leads him to believe I am both unrealistic and never satisfied. Both of which may be true.)
It takes me another week after that to get in the right head space to write about it, but by then I find myself wanting to write about other stuff instead.
In the end I usually cheat and just re-write the notes I took during the trip... which is what I will do for the most part this time too.
On our way to Australia
Went through airport security... 5 times... It appears someone finally realized the lackadaisical security here in Manila, so now they have gone from one extreme to the other.
Five minutes before boarding the plane buy water bottle 10 feet from gate entrance... Got stopped by security because apparently water sold within the first 4 rounds of security is unsafe to take on plane.
Tried to sneak said water bottle through round 5 of security... got caught. Winning smile... not working... these guys were obviously trained by professionals. So... to show my frustration, I stood there blocking all other patrons while finishing my water before getting in line to board the plane. But not before I ratted out the seven other people who were sitting down enjoying their "dangerous" water, and a making snide suggestions about how they could further improve security.
Note: Acting childish usually makes me feel better.
About to land in Melbourne... flight attendants are currently fumigating the airplane.
As in walking up and down the aisles spraying aerosol cans, (Which I'm pretty sure are combustible and aren't allowed on planes anyway.) which look and smell an awful lot like bug spray.
I. Feel. Like. A. Cockroach.
I said, they are probably disinfecting us because we are coming from the Philippines. Lee said, I was being an asshole and that it was probably just an Australian policy. Yeah. Right.
While leaving Moonlight Cinema, an outdoor movie theatre in the Royal Botanical Gardens.
Me: What is that? Did you see that? It looked like a giant squirrel! It ran like a squirrel... but it's too big to be a squirrel.
Lee: Eh... *Ignores me*
Me: Look!! There's another one. Wow! He's really close! Look!
Me: Ugh! Right there!!
Lee: JESUS TITS!!!
Me: HAHAHA... What did you say?
Lee: HE'S HUGE!!! WHAT IS THAT?!?!?! I FEEL LIKE I'M IN PRINCESS BRIDE RIGHT NOW! SERIOUSLY!! WE HAVE TO GO!
Me: HAHAHA... Wait, I want to get a picture.
Lee: WHAT?!?! NO!! COME ON!!
(I'm not sure what we actually saw. But if I had to guess... after a 10 second Google search I would think it was an Australian Common Bushtailed Possum.
Lee has a much more elaborate version... you can see the video of what he remembers below....)
Note: I like Australians. They remind me a lot of Americans, except more boisterous and aggressive. I attribute that to them all being the offspring of a bunch of convicts.
I would like to preface this by saying, that this conversation took place after a glass of champagne, and two glasses of wine. Which is about the time I start making the following comments...
Me: Of all the English speakers... I like the Aussies the best!
Lee: And why is that?
Me: Well, Brits are like, "Ooohhh... La, di da." (Done in my best snobby british accent.) And Americans are like, "Uhhh... duh..." And Australians are like, "Aarrrrggghhhh!!!"
Lee: Ha! You should put that in your blog.
Me: No... I don't write about the stupid things I say. I write about the stupid things you say. If you want what I say to be made public you should write your own blog.
(In the end I relented. Obviously.)
Later that night... while having drinks in a bar on what was apparently salsa night, judging from the latin music and sultry dance pairs.
Me: There is nothing sexier than a guy who can dance...
Lee: You better be glad I can't dance.
Me: *eye brow raise*
Lee: Because I'm pretty sexy already.
(See... that's much better.)
Part 2 coming soon...