Last Post about Purchasing!
Apr. 25th, 2006 04:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trinityvixenI bought a computer. The End.
Short and simple, neh?
I realize I haven't finished my vacation saga:
We went to the Polynesian Cultural Center on Thursday, which is sorta like Epcot Center's World Showcase just for the South Pacific Island Nations. I was looking over the map and came across Aoteroa, which sounded really familiar. Of course it did--that's Maori for New Zealand, duh. I got put in charge of navigation again for no reason I can fathom, and we ended up not seeing the Hawai'i land or Aoteroa, though that last part was okay because I've been to real Aoteroa, thanks.
The midday canoe show was very fun, especially when you see the Tongans bouncing around on a platform supported only by two canoes. Needless to say, our whole party freely confessed that we would have been in the canal if we tried anything like it. This was matched by the amazing Tahitian hula dancing and the always outstanding performance of the haka war cry by the Kiwi performers. I can't say for sure if they were doing the same haka as the one the All Blacks do in sport, but it's really scary any way you slice it. You don't have to be a 300 lb rugby player to scare the crap out of me, thanks.
We had a luau as part of our ticket, but it was more like an open walled indoor buffet. The traditional foods were there, and the pig was delicious, and the performers very good. I still would love to go to Maui or someplace less touristy still and have one on the beach or something.
Leaving Hawai'i was sad, mostly because it meant goodbye nice warm weather, hello Bay Area chill. However, when we got to the check in, we got boarding passes that said "GOLD CLASS" on them, and the lady told us about security check-in lines for First Class. We were getting pretty excited by that point, and I decided to document the event with Devin and I standing by the First Class security line sign. We also had to frantically call my Dad a million times to tell him not to move us around so we could sit together--for a five hour flight in first class, I'll sit next to Dubya, and I might even play nice.
Nice is too short a word for First Class, let me tell you. The main cabin wasn't clean, so we boarded ahead of even the stroller/wheelchair folk, which meant I was into Diet Pepsi before anyone else was on the freakin' plane! I had red wine refilled for me three-four times (after two times, it's hard to tell, and there were other reasons I'll go into later). I got food! They fed us. It's been so long since airlines did away with free meals on flights, I'd forgotten how nice that could be, having some food to look forward to, to tide me over. Not only did we get entrees, but we got salads and deserts, white cloth napkins, Diet Pepsi whenever I wanted!
The seats were huge, too, which was great, though I hope if I ever get first class again I can get one of the ones with foot rests. I want to lay-z-boy it across country some time.
When I first got into my seat, I requested a Diet Pepsi from this blonde flight attendant who had some scary red lipstick. Not like slutty red or dark, but sorta not-smokey pink with a shimmer that really defies explanation other that "scary." She came around with the usual tray of mimosa and champagne in disposable cups and tried to offer me one, said "Oh, you wanted Sprite." "Uh, Diet Pepsi, please." I got the DP, sure enough, but that was a little off.
Then came the drink cart. I saw wine bottles. You can't help but see them, really, they're sticking up off the tray and in first class there aren't enough people or seats obstructing the cart. I asked what she had in the way of wine, thinking red would be nice but if she had a Riesling, I would pick that in a heartbeat. Here's how the conversation went, and this is 100% exactly how it was:
Me: What wine do you have?
Stewardess: I have red and white.
Me: (pause while I waited to see if she'd elucidate on that any....aaaaand she didn't) Uh, what kind of red?
Stewardess: (blinks at me stupidly, then looks at bottle, then figures out to read the lablel) It's a Cabernet Sauvignon.
Me: (not so much a fan of that) What white do you have?
Stewardess: (has figured out to read the labels all over again) I have a Pinot Grigio and a (phoenetically, so you understand why this was weird) shar-DONE-ay.
Me: (five second pause to figure out that 'shar-DONE-ay' means Chardonnay) Uh, I'll have the red, please.
How is it that you can pronounce 'Sauvignon,' which isn't necessarily obvious, but not 'Chardonnay,' which is? My seat mate and I exchanged looks of mild bewilderment. She poured me the red and went on about her duties. Later, when I caught up with my parents, I found out the same stewardess poured some sha-DONE-ay for a couple across the row from them, looked at the glass, said "Oh, you wanted champagne," and proceeded to pour the drink back into the bottle and finish off what was left in the glass herself.
Ordering the salad with her was fun, too. The options were reduced to one of two dressings:
Stewardess: Caesar or vin-NAY-grette?
Me: (longer pause to figure out what 'vin-NAY-grette' was) Caesar.
I really could not work out that she meant vinaigrette for the longest time. I just never put the emPHASIS on that syLAble before.
Then came the entree, and my seat mate got into the game with her choice of the chicken vs fish. She thought she'd make ordering simpler for this addled woman. How wrong she was.
Me: I'll have the chicken, please.
Stewardess: (looks pointedly at my seat mate)
Seat Mate: The same.
Stewardess: The fish?
Seat Mate: (surprised, a tad annoyed) No, the chicken.
Shortly thereafter, the stewardess walked around to top off drinks and tried to pour a Merlot (hello, when was that offered?) into my Cab. She caught herself in time, and I got a topper of Cab Sauv. During the meal, however, she came around to top me off, and she did so with a bottle of Merlot-Cab mix.
She mixed my wine. SO WRONG. I had 3/4 of a Cab, maybe that's good enough to most people, and by three or four glasses, it wasn't making much of a difference, but still, the principle! She also managed to drip obviously onto my seat mate, who was luckily covered with a blanket. She didn't notice that she'd done so, despite the little wine-fall down the side of my glass held over the poor innocent bystander, until I made a comment. I got an apology.
I also had to use the restroom. Between wine refills, I was having can after can of Diet Pepsi, so I visited the First Class lav several times. It's awesome in there, too. There's lotion! Nice smelling lotion! Plus, there are four dedicated bathrooms to First Class, which is probably as many as the rest of the plane has. Crazy. I came back from the bathroom to find I'd missed a truly spectacular event:
The stewardess in question had gone tumbling to the ground, and, probably in embarrassment, made a show of saying there was a spill in the galley to justify it. My seat mate and I, being in the front row, would have had an excellent view. In fact, my seat mate informed me that she'd heard another stewardess make a comment about the coked up one to the effect of "Maybe you took too many painkillers."
Very amusing.
The adventures of Wendy the wound-up Stewardess really diverted me for most of the flight, so I never noticed the celebrity occupying space in First Class with us. I chit-chatted nowhere above the normal for a perfect stranger with my seat mate and found out she was a live-in sitter for the two boys across the aisle from us. I'd noticed only that those seats were empty until the last minute and that the parents travelling with the kids were pretty unkempt, remarkably so for the fact that the two boys were very clean and almost identically dressed (not obnoxiously so, just wearing the same sweatshirt). So, the au pair was doing her job well, but mom and pop coulda used a hair cut and razor, respectively. Mom had dark dreadlocks with bleached out ends; Dad had two days start on his razor, a dirty trucker's cap, and a ukulele. He was also dreadfully skinny, and wearing tight black jeans that emphasized the fact. She was heftier, though not fat. About as thick on her frame as I am on mine, only taller than me.
The whole family was on vacation, and I made some polite comment as to how nice it was they took the au pair with--even if she was working, she was in Hawai'i, and vacations usually mean parents spend more time with the kids so she could spend less. Plus, dirty-looking or no, they'd clearly enough money to afford to put her in first class along with themselves.
I wish I'd made better friends with my seat mate, if only for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
saikogrrl's sake, because when I got off and met my parents outside the rest rooms, my Mom mentioned there was somebody famous on our plane. She's really cute because she obviously had no idea who this person was or why anyone should care.
Mom: He's the lead singer of a band or something.
Me: Oh yeah? Which?
Mom: (furrowing her brow and frowning trying to remember) Green Day? Something like that.
And, sure enough, while we waited on my sister to emerge from the ladies' room, Billie Joe Armstrong, the dirty guy with the trucker cap, seven o'clock shadow, and ukulele, came out to his entourage from the men's room (entourage had swelled to include au pair and guy holding a guitar case beyond the family). That was kinda cool. I wish I'd buttered up the au pair--who seemed a really lovely girl, and she was very attentive to the kids the whole flight--because I'd have accosted her to get me his autograph on the sly forsaikogrrl.
'Cause I would never have done it to his face. One, I'm not like that. I'm just not. I lack the testosterone or whatever to charge up to a celebrity and demand they be a celebrity for me when they're not expecting it. Yes, they get serious financial repayment for such doings, but still, it seems kinda rude. Two, if I were able to be so bold, I wouldn't do it in front of the guy's family. That's just wrong. He's on vacation? Fine, he's fair game as a celebrity, I understand that. He's trying to be dad and keep the kids busy and living (relatively) normally (hey, they were at baggage claim with the rest of us)? Then I leave him alone. Missed opportunity, but a fun story to have. I still get a bigger kick out of our stewardess in-flight entertainment, but there you are.
This weekend, I ducked home to borrow the family's laptop 'till I got mine own, and I got my pictures on CD. I'll try posting the few good underwater ones I got. The snorkeling pictures didn't come out so great, which I expected, since the water was a bit cloudy (as was the sky). The dive pictures aren't terribly better, though there are a few that are clear and sorta in-frame (if I play with the borders, they will be!). I'm so glad I chased after that turtle that surface for air, because that's a decent shot, as are a few of my favorite reef fish, the Moorish Idol (Gill, from Finding Nemo, if you need a reference).
Problem was, we only had what was left from the snorkeling cameras for the shark dive, which was about three half-filled cameras. I could have taken thirty million pictures on the surface, let alone in the cage. I should have made more of an effort to get thirty more cameras for the shark thing because there aren't too many spectacular ones there.
Oh well, I'll just have to again :) Or or or! I should go really dive with sharks in a cage, so I can be a little steadier. And when I have $$$$ to do that, I'll also buy an apartment in Manhattan, or a bridge in Brooklyn...
Short and simple, neh?
I realize I haven't finished my vacation saga:
We went to the Polynesian Cultural Center on Thursday, which is sorta like Epcot Center's World Showcase just for the South Pacific Island Nations. I was looking over the map and came across Aoteroa, which sounded really familiar. Of course it did--that's Maori for New Zealand, duh. I got put in charge of navigation again for no reason I can fathom, and we ended up not seeing the Hawai'i land or Aoteroa, though that last part was okay because I've been to real Aoteroa, thanks.
The midday canoe show was very fun, especially when you see the Tongans bouncing around on a platform supported only by two canoes. Needless to say, our whole party freely confessed that we would have been in the canal if we tried anything like it. This was matched by the amazing Tahitian hula dancing and the always outstanding performance of the haka war cry by the Kiwi performers. I can't say for sure if they were doing the same haka as the one the All Blacks do in sport, but it's really scary any way you slice it. You don't have to be a 300 lb rugby player to scare the crap out of me, thanks.
We had a luau as part of our ticket, but it was more like an open walled indoor buffet. The traditional foods were there, and the pig was delicious, and the performers very good. I still would love to go to Maui or someplace less touristy still and have one on the beach or something.
Leaving Hawai'i was sad, mostly because it meant goodbye nice warm weather, hello Bay Area chill. However, when we got to the check in, we got boarding passes that said "GOLD CLASS" on them, and the lady told us about security check-in lines for First Class. We were getting pretty excited by that point, and I decided to document the event with Devin and I standing by the First Class security line sign. We also had to frantically call my Dad a million times to tell him not to move us around so we could sit together--for a five hour flight in first class, I'll sit next to Dubya, and I might even play nice.
Nice is too short a word for First Class, let me tell you. The main cabin wasn't clean, so we boarded ahead of even the stroller/wheelchair folk, which meant I was into Diet Pepsi before anyone else was on the freakin' plane! I had red wine refilled for me three-four times (after two times, it's hard to tell, and there were other reasons I'll go into later). I got food! They fed us. It's been so long since airlines did away with free meals on flights, I'd forgotten how nice that could be, having some food to look forward to, to tide me over. Not only did we get entrees, but we got salads and deserts, white cloth napkins, Diet Pepsi whenever I wanted!
The seats were huge, too, which was great, though I hope if I ever get first class again I can get one of the ones with foot rests. I want to lay-z-boy it across country some time.
When I first got into my seat, I requested a Diet Pepsi from this blonde flight attendant who had some scary red lipstick. Not like slutty red or dark, but sorta not-smokey pink with a shimmer that really defies explanation other that "scary." She came around with the usual tray of mimosa and champagne in disposable cups and tried to offer me one, said "Oh, you wanted Sprite." "Uh, Diet Pepsi, please." I got the DP, sure enough, but that was a little off.
Then came the drink cart. I saw wine bottles. You can't help but see them, really, they're sticking up off the tray and in first class there aren't enough people or seats obstructing the cart. I asked what she had in the way of wine, thinking red would be nice but if she had a Riesling, I would pick that in a heartbeat. Here's how the conversation went, and this is 100% exactly how it was:
Me: What wine do you have?
Stewardess: I have red and white.
Me: (pause while I waited to see if she'd elucidate on that any....aaaaand she didn't) Uh, what kind of red?
Stewardess: (blinks at me stupidly, then looks at bottle, then figures out to read the lablel) It's a Cabernet Sauvignon.
Me: (not so much a fan of that) What white do you have?
Stewardess: (has figured out to read the labels all over again) I have a Pinot Grigio and a (phoenetically, so you understand why this was weird) shar-DONE-ay.
Me: (five second pause to figure out that 'shar-DONE-ay' means Chardonnay) Uh, I'll have the red, please.
How is it that you can pronounce 'Sauvignon,' which isn't necessarily obvious, but not 'Chardonnay,' which is? My seat mate and I exchanged looks of mild bewilderment. She poured me the red and went on about her duties. Later, when I caught up with my parents, I found out the same stewardess poured some sha-DONE-ay for a couple across the row from them, looked at the glass, said "Oh, you wanted champagne," and proceeded to pour the drink back into the bottle and finish off what was left in the glass herself.
Ordering the salad with her was fun, too. The options were reduced to one of two dressings:
Stewardess: Caesar or vin-NAY-grette?
Me: (longer pause to figure out what 'vin-NAY-grette' was) Caesar.
I really could not work out that she meant vinaigrette for the longest time. I just never put the emPHASIS on that syLAble before.
Then came the entree, and my seat mate got into the game with her choice of the chicken vs fish. She thought she'd make ordering simpler for this addled woman. How wrong she was.
Me: I'll have the chicken, please.
Stewardess: (looks pointedly at my seat mate)
Seat Mate: The same.
Stewardess: The fish?
Seat Mate: (surprised, a tad annoyed) No, the chicken.
Shortly thereafter, the stewardess walked around to top off drinks and tried to pour a Merlot (hello, when was that offered?) into my Cab. She caught herself in time, and I got a topper of Cab Sauv. During the meal, however, she came around to top me off, and she did so with a bottle of Merlot-Cab mix.
She mixed my wine. SO WRONG. I had 3/4 of a Cab, maybe that's good enough to most people, and by three or four glasses, it wasn't making much of a difference, but still, the principle! She also managed to drip obviously onto my seat mate, who was luckily covered with a blanket. She didn't notice that she'd done so, despite the little wine-fall down the side of my glass held over the poor innocent bystander, until I made a comment. I got an apology.
I also had to use the restroom. Between wine refills, I was having can after can of Diet Pepsi, so I visited the First Class lav several times. It's awesome in there, too. There's lotion! Nice smelling lotion! Plus, there are four dedicated bathrooms to First Class, which is probably as many as the rest of the plane has. Crazy. I came back from the bathroom to find I'd missed a truly spectacular event:
The stewardess in question had gone tumbling to the ground, and, probably in embarrassment, made a show of saying there was a spill in the galley to justify it. My seat mate and I, being in the front row, would have had an excellent view. In fact, my seat mate informed me that she'd heard another stewardess make a comment about the coked up one to the effect of "Maybe you took too many painkillers."
Very amusing.
The adventures of Wendy the wound-up Stewardess really diverted me for most of the flight, so I never noticed the celebrity occupying space in First Class with us. I chit-chatted nowhere above the normal for a perfect stranger with my seat mate and found out she was a live-in sitter for the two boys across the aisle from us. I'd noticed only that those seats were empty until the last minute and that the parents travelling with the kids were pretty unkempt, remarkably so for the fact that the two boys were very clean and almost identically dressed (not obnoxiously so, just wearing the same sweatshirt). So, the au pair was doing her job well, but mom and pop coulda used a hair cut and razor, respectively. Mom had dark dreadlocks with bleached out ends; Dad had two days start on his razor, a dirty trucker's cap, and a ukulele. He was also dreadfully skinny, and wearing tight black jeans that emphasized the fact. She was heftier, though not fat. About as thick on her frame as I am on mine, only taller than me.
The whole family was on vacation, and I made some polite comment as to how nice it was they took the au pair with--even if she was working, she was in Hawai'i, and vacations usually mean parents spend more time with the kids so she could spend less. Plus, dirty-looking or no, they'd clearly enough money to afford to put her in first class along with themselves.
I wish I'd made better friends with my seat mate, if only for
saikogrrl's sake, because when I got off and met my parents outside the rest rooms, my Mom mentioned there was somebody famous on our plane. She's really cute because she obviously had no idea who this person was or why anyone should care.Mom: He's the lead singer of a band or something.
Me: Oh yeah? Which?
Mom: (furrowing her brow and frowning trying to remember) Green Day? Something like that.
And, sure enough, while we waited on my sister to emerge from the ladies' room, Billie Joe Armstrong, the dirty guy with the trucker cap, seven o'clock shadow, and ukulele, came out to his entourage from the men's room (entourage had swelled to include au pair and guy holding a guitar case beyond the family). That was kinda cool. I wish I'd buttered up the au pair--who seemed a really lovely girl, and she was very attentive to the kids the whole flight--because I'd have accosted her to get me his autograph on the sly for
saikogrrl.'Cause I would never have done it to his face. One, I'm not like that. I'm just not. I lack the testosterone or whatever to charge up to a celebrity and demand they be a celebrity for me when they're not expecting it. Yes, they get serious financial repayment for such doings, but still, it seems kinda rude. Two, if I were able to be so bold, I wouldn't do it in front of the guy's family. That's just wrong. He's on vacation? Fine, he's fair game as a celebrity, I understand that. He's trying to be dad and keep the kids busy and living (relatively) normally (hey, they were at baggage claim with the rest of us)? Then I leave him alone. Missed opportunity, but a fun story to have. I still get a bigger kick out of our stewardess in-flight entertainment, but there you are.
This weekend, I ducked home to borrow the family's laptop 'till I got mine own, and I got my pictures on CD. I'll try posting the few good underwater ones I got. The snorkeling pictures didn't come out so great, which I expected, since the water was a bit cloudy (as was the sky). The dive pictures aren't terribly better, though there are a few that are clear and sorta in-frame (if I play with the borders, they will be!). I'm so glad I chased after that turtle that surface for air, because that's a decent shot, as are a few of my favorite reef fish, the Moorish Idol (Gill, from Finding Nemo, if you need a reference).
Problem was, we only had what was left from the snorkeling cameras for the shark dive, which was about three half-filled cameras. I could have taken thirty million pictures on the surface, let alone in the cage. I should have made more of an effort to get thirty more cameras for the shark thing because there aren't too many spectacular ones there.
Oh well, I'll just have to again :) Or or or! I should go really dive with sharks in a cage, so I can be a little steadier. And when I have $$$$ to do that, I'll also buy an apartment in Manhattan, or a bridge in Brooklyn...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 08:38 pm (UTC)Wow.
I had no idea I was friends with a wine snob. :P
It's a plane. I don't know what you were expecting.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 08:41 pm (UTC)I'm not a snob! I know very little about wine!
no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 08:47 pm (UTC)Also, yes, I love that icon. I will now have a hard time taking Mr. Eko seriously until he scares the crap out of me (so, five minutes, give or take).
no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 08:50 pm (UTC)About the only thing I understood in that entire post was "Green Day".
no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 08:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 08:56 pm (UTC)Even you, anonymous person!
no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 08:57 pm (UTC)Balls.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 08:58 pm (UTC)I was also gonna say that if she needs a trashy fix, she should just come over and watch us beat the hell out of each other like we do.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 08:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 09:16 pm (UTC)Come back!
no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 09:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 04:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 04:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 04:47 am (UTC)also: your response reminds of something my roommate once said about a friend of hers who was super into colin firth (no argument here). she said she'd do him taking a shit. hahahaha
no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 01:19 pm (UTC)But then, I actually have strong feelings on merlot vs cabernet sauvignon (I like the second, dislike the first) and chardonnay vs pinot grigio (same thing).
...does that make me a wine snob, too?
Oh, and by the way - I also loved the Polynesian Cultural Center. Although I think Maui is pretty touristy, too. Try Kauai.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 01:44 pm (UTC)but still.... eeeee. XD
no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 02:08 pm (UTC)And no, you're not a wine snob. I also dislike Merlots. There's something bitter about them that I just don't enjoy. Almost any other red I've tried, I've preferred, but my parents both love Merlots. One of the few jokes I enjoyed in Sideways was about Paul Giamatti's character threatening to leave the double-date if a Merlot was ordered. Getting that joke and yet not being that type of person is okay, but actually following through on a threat like that? That's when you're a wine snob.
Incidentally, which of the whites did you not like? Ditto second over first like with the reds? I can't stand Chardonnay, either--it's like urine minus the smell.
I should have used the coke analogy, except there are members of our crowd who would probably not see a problem with all that mixing ::coughcoughCarriecoughcough::
no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 02:09 pm (UTC)Which explains a lot about the perversion of fandoms on the interweb, doesn't it?
no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 02:14 pm (UTC)Oh, and my vote for worst Chardonnay? Yellow Tail. It's totally trendy right now, and I keep running into it. I hate Yellow Tail. Hate hate hate. Nasty, vile stuff.
Carrie's weird. Everyone else knows Carrie's weird. It doesn't really hurt your argument much.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 02:35 pm (UTC)I am not a huge white person, but I like Rieslings, Champagne, and sparkling whites besides. Desert wine is a plus for being sweet and extra alcoholic.
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Date: 2006-04-26 02:55 pm (UTC)We stumbled on this amazing dessert wine at the Chocolate Show. Elysium (the winery is Quady). It's a black muscat - never seen anything like it.
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Date: 2006-04-26 02:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 03:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 03:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 05:25 pm (UTC)< / emo >
no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 05:53 pm (UTC)And Merlot = THEY