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I finally bought my plane ticket, not because I found a great deal but because I realized my $500 dream fare was simply never going to come. I wonder how many things in my life get accomplished from me saying, "Fuck it, I'm tired of worrying about this"?
I opted for British Airways, who has a nonstop from Denver to London -- which I anticipate being so luxurious and stress-free that I'll wonder why I haven't always insisted on nonstop. (How can BA get there in 9 hours when all the other airlines need 15? MyFriendDeb figures everyone else has to pull over to let them through, since they have "British" in the title.) Apart from some shenanigans with my debit card not being good enough for their website, I'm pretty much good to go. Lucky thing, because it was only after buying it that I noticed that there's actually only two weeks before my travel dates. Two more weekends at the kennels, and I can already feel the countdown on my pressure valve. I'm hoping my last night of work before leaving goes significantly smoother than my last trip.
Jeffy has set about planning my entertainment with a vengeance. There's talk of hopping over to Ireland, Stonehenge, Buckingham and even Spamalot. MyFriendDeb had mentioned a Harry Potter tour that sounded appealing. Jeffy hadn't heard of it so I Googled. It turns out there are lots of Harry Potter tours, all of which are designed to siphon as much money from vacationing American pigdogs as possible. The cheapest one I found was $400. !!!!!!! That gets you a private taxicab that ferries you to all the shooting locations of inner London. Other packages go up to $2000+ and last several days, encompassing Scotland and a ride on the Hogwarts Express as well.
Extortionate. But would YOU want to be the one to tell your excited little darlings that it's too expensive? I figure I've got an advantage over the average tourist in knowing a native. Nothing can stop us from visiting some spots on our own. In fact, the Hogwarts library was filmed at Oxford, which is Jeffy's alma mater.
So in short, England is a go! I'll be sure to come back with proper documentation for my avid readers.
~*~
If I had bought my ticket first, I might not have gone on the massive internet shopping spree that I did just the day before. 300 is coming soon so I wanted that. But Amazon has a way of pricing everything tantalizingly close to, but often just below, the $25 mark that gets you free shipping. So to save $3 in shipping, I also ordered The Official Firefly Companion Volumes 1 and 2 for an additional $30. Don't judge me, I was planning to buy these eventually anyway.
While browsing, I stumbled across the DVD Done the Impossible, a fan-made documentary about how the intensely loyal fan base made the movie Serenity happen (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kavieshana, see me after class). It arrived Saturday and I made Tery watch a bit. I had hoped seeing people talking about their love for the show would push her over the edge into giving it a chance. And, well, done the impossible indeed...we just finished the pilot and she agreed to watch more (her tentative favorite is Kaylee). Will she be #6 in my conversion tally to the Browncoats? Only time will tell.
~*~
This weekend at the kennels had the usual amount of excitement. I come with two photos.
This is Baby Face the greyhound. I've heard that most retired greyhounds are affectionate, obedient and stoked to live a life not being forced to run constantly. Baby Face is the first greyhound I've dealt with, and all she wants is hugs, kisses, and love love love love love. I was happy to provide all of these as much as possible.
By contrast, here is Snuggles the cat:
Despite several attempts, mere camera phone technology is pitifully inadequate to capture the almost demonic malevolence emanating off this cat. Either Snuggles' extreme homicidal tendencies developed after it was too late to change his name (but really, don't all cats only deign to recognize the names we choose for them when it suits them?) or his owner has a deep-seated sense of irony. Just walking past the door of C ward was enough to incite his warning hissing and spitting, and actually opening the door of his kennel to clean the box or bowls got him speaking in tongues.
I was perfectly content to leave him be. Message received, loud and clear, little man. Except he had this habit of pooping in his blanket, and that I couldn't just walk by and ignore. I changed it once at terrific risk of loss of limb, not that I got the slightest bit of gratitude for my trouble. Then in the morning I noticed he had done it again. Well fuck me. That I left for the day crew to deal with.
Because the day crew is on my list again. Saturday night I came in to find for a second time, mind-blowingly, less than a month after my plea to everyone at the meeting, the back door wide open a full four hours after the last person had left. Because come closing time, the day crew happily starts their weekend and doesn't give a second thought to anyone or anything else because they are lazy, thoughtless and useless. If I sound a little harsh, think for a moment how you would feel walking into a hospital full of dark rooms where someone could easily lie in wait. The solution offered by the stupid cow of a medical director was for me to call for a police escort -- except I don't notice the unlocked door until I'm already inside, when it would already be far too late if someone got in.
As much as I'd love to unleash my fury on the guilty parties directly, Tery won't let me, so I'm forced to do it to her and hope she can sufficiently pass it along. But as much as I love Tery, she doesn't really do anger, not as effectively as me at least.
Two more weekends, two more weekends...
~*~
Finally, cut because I'm sure no one really cares all that much, ( ::The Search for John Gissing:: )
In summary, for Rickman fans this is a 5/5. For the rest of the world, 3/5.
I opted for British Airways, who has a nonstop from Denver to London -- which I anticipate being so luxurious and stress-free that I'll wonder why I haven't always insisted on nonstop. (How can BA get there in 9 hours when all the other airlines need 15? MyFriendDeb figures everyone else has to pull over to let them through, since they have "British" in the title.) Apart from some shenanigans with my debit card not being good enough for their website, I'm pretty much good to go. Lucky thing, because it was only after buying it that I noticed that there's actually only two weeks before my travel dates. Two more weekends at the kennels, and I can already feel the countdown on my pressure valve. I'm hoping my last night of work before leaving goes significantly smoother than my last trip.
Jeffy has set about planning my entertainment with a vengeance. There's talk of hopping over to Ireland, Stonehenge, Buckingham and even Spamalot. MyFriendDeb had mentioned a Harry Potter tour that sounded appealing. Jeffy hadn't heard of it so I Googled. It turns out there are lots of Harry Potter tours, all of which are designed to siphon as much money from vacationing American pigdogs as possible. The cheapest one I found was $400. !!!!!!! That gets you a private taxicab that ferries you to all the shooting locations of inner London. Other packages go up to $2000+ and last several days, encompassing Scotland and a ride on the Hogwarts Express as well.
Extortionate. But would YOU want to be the one to tell your excited little darlings that it's too expensive? I figure I've got an advantage over the average tourist in knowing a native. Nothing can stop us from visiting some spots on our own. In fact, the Hogwarts library was filmed at Oxford, which is Jeffy's alma mater.
So in short, England is a go! I'll be sure to come back with proper documentation for my avid readers.
~*~
If I had bought my ticket first, I might not have gone on the massive internet shopping spree that I did just the day before. 300 is coming soon so I wanted that. But Amazon has a way of pricing everything tantalizingly close to, but often just below, the $25 mark that gets you free shipping. So to save $3 in shipping, I also ordered The Official Firefly Companion Volumes 1 and 2 for an additional $30. Don't judge me, I was planning to buy these eventually anyway.
While browsing, I stumbled across the DVD Done the Impossible, a fan-made documentary about how the intensely loyal fan base made the movie Serenity happen (
kavieshana, see me after class). It arrived Saturday and I made Tery watch a bit. I had hoped seeing people talking about their love for the show would push her over the edge into giving it a chance. And, well, done the impossible indeed...we just finished the pilot and she agreed to watch more (her tentative favorite is Kaylee). Will she be #6 in my conversion tally to the Browncoats? Only time will tell.~*~
This weekend at the kennels had the usual amount of excitement. I come with two photos.
This is Baby Face the greyhound. I've heard that most retired greyhounds are affectionate, obedient and stoked to live a life not being forced to run constantly. Baby Face is the first greyhound I've dealt with, and all she wants is hugs, kisses, and love love love love love. I was happy to provide all of these as much as possible.
By contrast, here is Snuggles the cat:
Despite several attempts, mere camera phone technology is pitifully inadequate to capture the almost demonic malevolence emanating off this cat. Either Snuggles' extreme homicidal tendencies developed after it was too late to change his name (but really, don't all cats only deign to recognize the names we choose for them when it suits them?) or his owner has a deep-seated sense of irony. Just walking past the door of C ward was enough to incite his warning hissing and spitting, and actually opening the door of his kennel to clean the box or bowls got him speaking in tongues.
I was perfectly content to leave him be. Message received, loud and clear, little man. Except he had this habit of pooping in his blanket, and that I couldn't just walk by and ignore. I changed it once at terrific risk of loss of limb, not that I got the slightest bit of gratitude for my trouble. Then in the morning I noticed he had done it again. Well fuck me. That I left for the day crew to deal with.
Because the day crew is on my list again. Saturday night I came in to find for a second time, mind-blowingly, less than a month after my plea to everyone at the meeting, the back door wide open a full four hours after the last person had left. Because come closing time, the day crew happily starts their weekend and doesn't give a second thought to anyone or anything else because they are lazy, thoughtless and useless. If I sound a little harsh, think for a moment how you would feel walking into a hospital full of dark rooms where someone could easily lie in wait. The solution offered by the stupid cow of a medical director was for me to call for a police escort -- except I don't notice the unlocked door until I'm already inside, when it would already be far too late if someone got in.
As much as I'd love to unleash my fury on the guilty parties directly, Tery won't let me, so I'm forced to do it to her and hope she can sufficiently pass it along. But as much as I love Tery, she doesn't really do anger, not as effectively as me at least.
Two more weekends, two more weekends...
~*~
Finally, cut because I'm sure no one really cares all that much, ( ::The Search for John Gissing:: )
In summary, for Rickman fans this is a 5/5. For the rest of the world, 3/5.
