So, what’s up?

I’m on vacations! W00t!

I’ve been debating what being on vacations meant for this blog. Do I stop posting? Post once a week? Post whenever I want? Hire guest poster for a summer of love type-thing? Other?

I think I decided that I was not going to decide anything. I’ll post if / when I feel I have something interesting to post about. I won’t force myself to have a post before the midnight “deadline”.

So from today to September 1st, you might get no posts, 10 posts, 100 posts… Who knows!


I did promise to do these, and I will do them:

July 29: Guest posting at BluepaintRed.

August 6: Guest posting at DutchBitch.

August 21:  Guest posting for Karl’s Summer of Love.

So there you have it, that’s what’s up.

So I’m starting my vacations by having some awesome gelato in about an hour. See ya around, suckers!


Oh, and speaking of recaps: yesterday I flew back from Washington DC, leaving behind the insane heat and humidity to come back to Canada, where the heat is slightly less awful but the humidity is pretty much the same. If you’re interested, I put the recap of the ride home in an extended entry…

Edit: It would also seem that I decided to be much less astute in the spellcheck part of blogging. I apologize if you got an earlier version of this post. 😉

My day started by getting up at 5:00 AM – I really don’t know why, packing my stuff, taking a shower, dressing up and sending 127 annoying messages to my boss. “Guess who’s up?” the subject would say and the body would be “hint: It’s me”, followed shortly by “Guess who’s showered?”, “Guess who’s packed”… “Guess who’s bored?”.

So eventually we went for breakfast. One coffee and one Cinnamon bun – 7.68$. Then it was time to grab our stuff and check out. I went back to my room and did the double-check of the drawers and closet, and under the bed, and bathroom, and side tables, followed by the triple-check of all those things again. Satisfied that I didn’t forget anything, I left the room. As the door is closing, I happened to glance inside and what did I see?

My passport. Smack dab in the middle of the floor in front of the bed. Now that would have been fun at the airport, right?

We then hopped on an early shuttle to the airport, and went through security and stuff. We had an hour and a half to wait for the plane.

The plane ride to Montreal was uneventful. The fun started when we landed. We had 40 minutes to get to our connection. So we “briskly walked” from our gate, to customs, to security, to our departing gate. I got stopped at security for carrying creams and stuff in my backpack. It took them forever to go through my bag, and they ended up keeping my spiker hair gel. I looked at the girl and said: “but that the most expensive one!”. I couldn’t argue much more, I only had minutes before our plane took off.

So I put my belt back on, tied my shoes strapped my backpack on and proceeded to gate number… Crap. I forgot the gate number our flight departed from, and boss-man was long gone from the security checkpoint. What to do. Of course, none of those screen listing the departures was there, and I was at a junction. My options were: Gates 1-16, Gates 17 – 34, Gates 35 – 47. I seemed to remember boss-man saying 21 as we were running to security. I also picked 17 – 34 because it offered the largest spread of gates. So I walked for what seemed to be miles before I started seeing gate numbers. By the time 21 was in sight, it was clear that I wouldn’t have time to backtrack to get to other gates if 21 turned out to be wrong.

Sure enough, boss-man was nowhere to be seen at gate 21.

He was at gate 32, which turned out to be 15 feet away from gate 21. Whew. I made it just in time. BTW, I remembered 21 correctly, they still had a sign that said our flight left from Gate 21.

The 27 minutes flight from Montreal to Ottawa was bumpy and noisy – I hate those Dash-8 propeller planes. The take off and the landing were the smoothest part of the ride.

From there I took a taxi home, and got here around 3:39 PM. p



  1. Oooooh – vacation time!!! (Now I have the GoGo’s stuck in my head!)
    Anyway, I hate connecting flights. That crap always happens to me (changing gates, etc.) Also, it’s so weird when one flight lets crap like your gel go through no problem and other places confiscate it. They took my cuticle scissors in Jersey, and I was so, so pissed. Even the old man who took them was pissed, but what’re you gonna do, right?
    .-= Sybil Law´s last blog ..Since I’m too lazy to go back and link, this was from InStyle. =-.

  2. @Hilly: It looks more like a whatever at this point. 😉

    @Sybil Law: The worst part was that I was convinced that all my hair gel and stuff was in my other suitcase. So I kept repeating: “There are no creams or gels in this bag! I swear!” So sure enough, when I opened the bag… good times.

  3. @DutchBitch: Do you know what you’re getting into? 😉

    @SheilaCSR: I thought you were over that. That customs dude probably doesn’t remember you at this point. Just be careful next time. 😉

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s