Day 1 in Honduras started with me waking up at 8am and it was already a balmy 80 degrees. Since everyone hadn't arrived yet I went for a walk with Morgan and Lisa (no not my mother) around the city we're staying in El Progresso. The city is an interesting mix of developing world and developed. For example, the streets are liked with various markets, stands, and cultural spaces selling various fruits, vegetables, household needs etc. And then next to these markets you have Maxi Bodega, the Walmart of Honduras and any chain American fast food resturaunt you can think of including Popeyes, KFC, Dunkin Donuts, and Pizza Hut. Once again as it was in Europe, Pizza Hut is this fancy sit down resturaunt you would take a date to.
We also met up with a dealer during our walk. An money exchange dealer that is. Apparently one gets better exchange rates when you go to an individual rather than the bank. We hit up this nice man around the corner chillin on the street in a plastic resin chair. At 18 Liamperas for one one US dollar you couldnt possibly beat the price And this is where the title of the post comes into play. While walking back to the hotel I ran into the most charming Honduran man who told me that he loved white peple. Essentially he was using me for money. Shortly afterwards I was introduced to the infamous baleada (could be spelling that wrong) theif. They are basically tortillas that are filled with creams, eggs, chicken etc. It's one of the national dishes of Honduras, yet I have been unable to try it yet.
After a great morning walk it was now 100 degrees and we were off to get some Super Jugos at the mall. The mall was your typical shopping mall you would find in the US, yet no one can afford it. Even if I couldn't I would still go for the AC Super Jugos is this amazing smoothie place where they take freshly squeezed fruit that they prepare in front of you and make smoothies. I had the papaya, pineapple, and orange juice one and it was delish, to quote Rachel Ray. Our next journey was to visit the house our leaders Morgan, Sam, and Morgan's brother Alex were living at. While touring the house we had the honor of meeting Chewey, one of the cutest but biggest son of a bitch of a dog you'll ever meet. For example, he just like to scratch on the door and run into the house even though he belongs to the nextbdoor neighbors and always wants to sit under you so as if your legs are going to scratch his back. And when he isn't up your ass he's chasing cars. I made the stupid comment, that the dog didn't have a tail I don't know what I was thinking, somehow I thought he'd be cuter if he had a tail?
After meeting Chewey and the next door neighbors who work with FASSO and OYE we went down to the local public schools. Public schools are different in the sense that they are free, yet the families have to buy their own books, supplies, lunch, and uniforms. Sometimes children commute over an hour to get to school. Additionally, class sizes are enormous comared to US elementary and high schools with almost over 50 students in a class. Usually there is never enough room for the students. Teachers also dont get paid on time. One teacher, for example, went three months without getting paid but still teaches because if she didnt the kids would have jothing to do and wouldnt lead to them bettering themselves. In a nation where 40% of the population is under 16 education is ever so more important. The soccer coach took us on a tour of the school, it was divided up into various buildings with sections of classrooms. Apparently the soccer coach was one of the best referees in the world at one point, working for FIFA. There were thousands of students at the school and the school day was divided into three blocks, including nights due to the large size. Eventually once in high school you pick a certain area of interest. One of the neighbor kids, who everyone nicknames "negro" because of how dark he is, is studying business and operates a microfiance company that makes underwear. It is small projects like this that are helping Honduran youth get and education and be the leaders of tomorrow their country needs. More on that in the next post. (Don't ask about the r and q at the bottom, using my phone and the cursor won't get rid of it)
r q
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Kirstie Alley's Fat Ass Almost won Dancing With The Stars
More on that in a bit, but first off let me say that this blog post is brought to you by the wonderful people at android and the free wifi from the beautiful hotel, hotel montecriso tphat we are staying in. ok and also for some reason the caps key on my phone isnt working so i appologize for the lack of caps. so yesterday began with me arriving at reagan national airport and realizing that what i thought was my flight to miami was leaving at three fifty nine, not four fifty nine. next thing you know im walking through the airport as a quick pace, not to the point that i look like a moron but i am too afraid to ask what time the flight is leaving at. then i get to the terminal...well it turns out it was four fifty nine so i was on time. the beautiful people at spirit airlines though made us change gates though three times in a span of ten minutes, which was like a rat race of people running from gate to gate. personally i knew my assigned seat was eighteen f, it wasnt going anywhere so why did i care? Ok just figured out how to capatilize, so from here on out coment on my shity grammar if any occurs.
The plane was a...special mix of people. Everyone was mainly Latino or coming from AIPAC conference in DC...and then I realized I was flying to Ft. Lauderdale/Miami Intl, explains everything. The airport didnt have the greatest decor. One of the main problems was that there was absolutely nothing good to eat. I enjoyed a Nathans quarter pounder. But let me backtrack a moment to the flight. No one seemed to know anything about flying. For example, we live in a post 911 world America. You cant just walk up to the bathroom and form a line of about 10 people, also you cant go to the bathroom once the fasten seatbelt signs are on. Then once we landed some guy just had to get up asap and take out his luggage which led to the steward yelling at him.
Now flash forward back to Ft. Lauderdale during my four hour layover. Then while eating my burger these two girls started yelling at the bar because they wanted the local fix station not CNN. The bartender thought they meant Fox News and they said no. Well they took offense and even though they didnt want Fox News they started bitching that they wanted that now just for spite. The airport has an agreement though to play CNN, like most do. My little stud of a brother got the gold medal for being first in his class for 9th grade, so ill let him have his moment. Then Aunt Vicky just had to call me and go off on Kirstie Alley, who she thought one dancing with the stars. It was almost worse than the Boykos are in code red post from Shagged Abroad London. "OMG...no she didnt win...no...she looked like a beached whale...and omg when she worse that black top and pulled off her skirt she was in tights. Those thighs looked huge and she looked like something out of Stargate SG1 (or whatever thats called)." After that 5 minute rant she realized she didnt win and everything was right in the world.
The flight to San Pedro Sula was a bit delayed because some Olga bitch never showed up and spirit waits for people to show up. Then to ad insult to injury, they had to remove her bag. This took over an hour. Thank god I had the chick next to me to chat with, but sadly she fell asleep. After the hour delay we were off to Honduras and thats where the fun (and the blog post tomorrow) begins.
The plane was a...special mix of people. Everyone was mainly Latino or coming from AIPAC conference in DC...and then I realized I was flying to Ft. Lauderdale/Miami Intl, explains everything. The airport didnt have the greatest decor. One of the main problems was that there was absolutely nothing good to eat. I enjoyed a Nathans quarter pounder. But let me backtrack a moment to the flight. No one seemed to know anything about flying. For example, we live in a post 911 world America. You cant just walk up to the bathroom and form a line of about 10 people, also you cant go to the bathroom once the fasten seatbelt signs are on. Then once we landed some guy just had to get up asap and take out his luggage which led to the steward yelling at him.
Now flash forward back to Ft. Lauderdale during my four hour layover. Then while eating my burger these two girls started yelling at the bar because they wanted the local fix station not CNN. The bartender thought they meant Fox News and they said no. Well they took offense and even though they didnt want Fox News they started bitching that they wanted that now just for spite. The airport has an agreement though to play CNN, like most do. My little stud of a brother got the gold medal for being first in his class for 9th grade, so ill let him have his moment. Then Aunt Vicky just had to call me and go off on Kirstie Alley, who she thought one dancing with the stars. It was almost worse than the Boykos are in code red post from Shagged Abroad London. "OMG...no she didnt win...no...she looked like a beached whale...and omg when she worse that black top and pulled off her skirt she was in tights. Those thighs looked huge and she looked like something out of Stargate SG1 (or whatever thats called)." After that 5 minute rant she realized she didnt win and everything was right in the world.
The flight to San Pedro Sula was a bit delayed because some Olga bitch never showed up and spirit waits for people to show up. Then to ad insult to injury, they had to remove her bag. This took over an hour. Thank god I had the chick next to me to chat with, but sadly she fell asleep. After the hour delay we were off to Honduras and thats where the fun (and the blog post tomorrow) begins.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Shagged Abroad Parte Dos
So after consulting with my fan base I was convinced to bring back Shagged Abroad for a limited time engagement but instead of the UK were spicing things up a bit and GOING TO HONDURAS ( <--- that was in an Oprah accent by the way). Now that I'm thinking about it the phrase "limited time engagement" makes it sound like I'm Disney and I'm re-releasing some movie every decade so that a new generation can "experience the magic". Let's face it, that's just a ploy for Disney to make cash off unsuspecting parents who don't wanna listen to their kids bitch that their version of The Lion King is now outdated because the new version features a new song and bonus features, not to mention its 2 discs! I will try my best not to make this like a Disney movie re-release. This new blog will be exciting and tell my tales in Honduras as only I can tell them. There is a chance that I may not be able to update this daily so in the case of the event that that is indeed true, I may write it in a journal and then gradually update when I return to Los Estados Unidos in 2 weeks.
And I'm sure some of you are sitting there thinking, why the hell am I going to Honduras? Well I will be working with Paso Honduras learning development, traveling, and experiencing Honduran culture and society. One of the service site we will be working out includes an orphanage of little boys addicted to glue. So in a sense this blog will be a bit educational this time around (more than Greek Pottery I'm sure) There will be some fun along the way too! One weekend we will be hitting up the beach on the Pacific Ocean and another we will be visiting some Mayan ruins.
This will be my second time in Latin America so I now know what to do that I shouldn't have done in Peru. They include:
Do not climb a mountain at night during a rain storm....It only leads to you being absolutely soaked and nearly dead in the process
Stay away from guinea pigs. Yes, I ate a guinea pig while in Peru. It wasn't good. Meat should not be sweet and not tender, just saying. Plus, I wasn't a fan of the fact that they even showed me the little guy's head, feet, and arms.
As cute as the little children are it isn't OK to be the white Oprah and give them everything. This is mainly because of the fact that they form this bond to you that isn't fair to them once you leave them after a few days and secondly it gives them the notion that we can solve all their problems just through money. It also is offensive to the locals who are working hard to make the city, country etc. a better place. They work hard to provide for their families and they do appreciate some of the concern and gifts we give them, yet at the same time it hurts them because they aren't able to provide as much as we can. I don't know if that made much sense but until you're in the situation its kind of hard to comprehend.
Anyways, sorry to ruin the moment. That's all I have to say for now, since I am leaving for a few hours for Ft. Lauderdale and then Honduras, so hasta manana! (By the end of these two weeks you readers at home will know so much Spanish you won't even need to buy Muzzy or Rosetta Stone)
And for some info on Honduras check this out!
And I'm sure some of you are sitting there thinking, why the hell am I going to Honduras? Well I will be working with Paso Honduras learning development, traveling, and experiencing Honduran culture and society. One of the service site we will be working out includes an orphanage of little boys addicted to glue. So in a sense this blog will be a bit educational this time around (more than Greek Pottery I'm sure) There will be some fun along the way too! One weekend we will be hitting up the beach on the Pacific Ocean and another we will be visiting some Mayan ruins.
This will be my second time in Latin America so I now know what to do that I shouldn't have done in Peru. They include:
Do not climb a mountain at night during a rain storm....It only leads to you being absolutely soaked and nearly dead in the process
Stay away from guinea pigs. Yes, I ate a guinea pig while in Peru. It wasn't good. Meat should not be sweet and not tender, just saying. Plus, I wasn't a fan of the fact that they even showed me the little guy's head, feet, and arms.
As cute as the little children are it isn't OK to be the white Oprah and give them everything. This is mainly because of the fact that they form this bond to you that isn't fair to them once you leave them after a few days and secondly it gives them the notion that we can solve all their problems just through money. It also is offensive to the locals who are working hard to make the city, country etc. a better place. They work hard to provide for their families and they do appreciate some of the concern and gifts we give them, yet at the same time it hurts them because they aren't able to provide as much as we can. I don't know if that made much sense but until you're in the situation its kind of hard to comprehend.
Anyways, sorry to ruin the moment. That's all I have to say for now, since I am leaving for a few hours for Ft. Lauderdale and then Honduras, so hasta manana! (By the end of these two weeks you readers at home will know so much Spanish you won't even need to buy Muzzy or Rosetta Stone)
And for some info on Honduras check this out!
Monday, December 27, 2010
The Christmas Post
With 2010 coming to end and my journey to the UK now 5 (I think I'm so confused with the days anymore) days passed. It is time to me to write my final blog post...well final at least for this adventure.
Christmas will not be complete without looking back at a Rosalind Franklin Christmas that took place way back on December 12th. There was a sparkle in the air, the birds were chirping...ok that's all absolute and utter bull shit. I awoke from a crazy and fun night the night before, details of which are unnecessary to telling this story, to the great smell of our chickens Henrietta and Clucky in the over. For those of you that are wondering Clucky was the retarded chicken that sadly was put down because she was unable to lay eggs, she also wasn't as beautiful as her older sister Henrietta, so Laura tells me... Anyways, I began my morning by helping make snowflakes to decorate our window. I can't make a snow flake to save my life obviously because while everyone else had these really cool geometric details, mine was just a circle with a square and a few triangles in it. And naturally, everyone who walked into the kitchen was like "Look at all the snowflakes, except for the one in the top hand corner, who made that one!?" Way to embarrass me...
Next we started busting the bottles of Cava open (12 in all) and we went through every single one in a matter of hours. This led to numerous drunk dancing numbers including the Mocarena, the Cha Cha Slide, and some other dances I don't quite remember. And of course we danced on the chairs as usual. Then everyone on the floor came together for a nice meal of roast chicken, sausages wrapped in bacon, carrots, roast potatoes, parsnips, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cranberry sauce, stuffing, homemade gravy, mince pies, and cake. All washed down with, yes you guessed it Cava! Then afterwards we had our secret Santa's revealed and gifts distributed. I am still touched by my gift of the yard long box of Jaffa Cakes and the picture of all my flatmates (well the ones I love at least) in the London picture frame. Thanks Becca! Especially love how Zoe was put into the picture! All in all it was a wonderful day and it felt just like Christmas, and as an even added bonus Matt won X Factor. Oh I forgot there was one casualty, Will's mattress which wound up on the room a la The Hangover...
So now lets fast forward to this Christmas! Upon opening her gift of tea from Harrods my grandmother goes crazy and is like "OHHHHHHH Ryan this is from the place Princess Diana's boyfriend's father, that Dodi owns!" Yes we are that obsessed by Harrod's that we know it solely as the place Princess Diana's boyfriend's father, that Dodi owns. Yes yes I do know it is now owned by some Qataris since Dodi's father sold it last year. My mom and grandfather were satisfied with their sweatshirts. My Dad freaked me out because he was unsure if my brother was going to like his Adidas Olympic Shirt because the logo was shiny and then he told me that silly bands are apparently out of style. Thankfully he liked both of them. Real shame about the silly bands though, they haven't even caught on in the US. I am starting a cult Jaffa Cakes following here and within the year we will be a forced to be reckoned with. People across the US will be demanding stores supply Jaffa Cakes. As far as Christmas Pudding...its good, but its not like...great.... no offense...
And now I may get a bit emotional (if its possible to do so via electronic typing). I would like to thank everyone across the pond for giving me some of the craziest, and quite possibly greatest, three months of my life. Sure there were some low points along the way, but hey that is a part of life and that happens. Looking back on it, I wouldn't have had it any other way. Each person that I met while studying abroad has touched me in some way from the people I love to the people who annoy the hell out of me. I know I'm starting to ramble, but I just wanna say that I love each and every single one of you and I can't wait to come back (there will be a reunion believe me, I have an incurable addiction to traveling) and get "shagged" abroad again!
Christmas will not be complete without looking back at a Rosalind Franklin Christmas that took place way back on December 12th. There was a sparkle in the air, the birds were chirping...ok that's all absolute and utter bull shit. I awoke from a crazy and fun night the night before, details of which are unnecessary to telling this story, to the great smell of our chickens Henrietta and Clucky in the over. For those of you that are wondering Clucky was the retarded chicken that sadly was put down because she was unable to lay eggs, she also wasn't as beautiful as her older sister Henrietta, so Laura tells me... Anyways, I began my morning by helping make snowflakes to decorate our window. I can't make a snow flake to save my life obviously because while everyone else had these really cool geometric details, mine was just a circle with a square and a few triangles in it. And naturally, everyone who walked into the kitchen was like "Look at all the snowflakes, except for the one in the top hand corner, who made that one!?" Way to embarrass me...
Next we started busting the bottles of Cava open (12 in all) and we went through every single one in a matter of hours. This led to numerous drunk dancing numbers including the Mocarena, the Cha Cha Slide, and some other dances I don't quite remember. And of course we danced on the chairs as usual. Then everyone on the floor came together for a nice meal of roast chicken, sausages wrapped in bacon, carrots, roast potatoes, parsnips, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cranberry sauce, stuffing, homemade gravy, mince pies, and cake. All washed down with, yes you guessed it Cava! Then afterwards we had our secret Santa's revealed and gifts distributed. I am still touched by my gift of the yard long box of Jaffa Cakes and the picture of all my flatmates (well the ones I love at least) in the London picture frame. Thanks Becca! Especially love how Zoe was put into the picture! All in all it was a wonderful day and it felt just like Christmas, and as an even added bonus Matt won X Factor. Oh I forgot there was one casualty, Will's mattress which wound up on the room a la The Hangover...
So now lets fast forward to this Christmas! Upon opening her gift of tea from Harrods my grandmother goes crazy and is like "OHHHHHHH Ryan this is from the place Princess Diana's boyfriend's father, that Dodi owns!" Yes we are that obsessed by Harrod's that we know it solely as the place Princess Diana's boyfriend's father, that Dodi owns. Yes yes I do know it is now owned by some Qataris since Dodi's father sold it last year. My mom and grandfather were satisfied with their sweatshirts. My Dad freaked me out because he was unsure if my brother was going to like his Adidas Olympic Shirt because the logo was shiny and then he told me that silly bands are apparently out of style. Thankfully he liked both of them. Real shame about the silly bands though, they haven't even caught on in the US. I am starting a cult Jaffa Cakes following here and within the year we will be a forced to be reckoned with. People across the US will be demanding stores supply Jaffa Cakes. As far as Christmas Pudding...its good, but its not like...great.... no offense...
And now I may get a bit emotional (if its possible to do so via electronic typing). I would like to thank everyone across the pond for giving me some of the craziest, and quite possibly greatest, three months of my life. Sure there were some low points along the way, but hey that is a part of life and that happens. Looking back on it, I wouldn't have had it any other way. Each person that I met while studying abroad has touched me in some way from the people I love to the people who annoy the hell out of me. I know I'm starting to ramble, but I just wanna say that I love each and every single one of you and I can't wait to come back (there will be a reunion believe me, I have an incurable addiction to traveling) and get "shagged" abroad again!
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Stranded Part 2: So You Like Jaffa Cakes?
After 5 days I believe there has been enough time for me to recount the horrors that was being stranded in London thanks to Richard Branson and BAA's inability to remove snow, so here it goes...
Morning Dec 21: I wake up at 9:15AM to hear the cleaner speaking jive as usual, get on skype to call Virgin Atlantic again.
9:45 AM: Waiting for 20 minutes now, realize I am hungry and open a container of fig rolls, as soon as I start chewing I am naturally put on the phone with an associate.
10:00AM: Get put on a flight on December 26th from Heathrow to JFK, won't be home for Christmas, but at least know when I am going home so I can plan accordingly. According to the man I spoke with that was the earliest flight I could get to anywhere in the East Coast.
10:15AM: Call Dad, tell him my situation. He makes me realize that the fuckers at Virgin just walked all over me. How can the ONLY flight to the US be no sooner than December 26. I realize he has a point and decide to call back after a shower.
11:15AM: Take a shower and then once again call Virgin. This time I get through in 20 minutes and am greeted by the biggest jerk ever. I tell him that I realize that clearly Virgin just played me into thinking that I would be ok getting on a flight no sooner than December 26th. He tells me that its all the governments fault (like I haven't heard that excuse before) and actually starts yelling at me. I demand that look into other flights on Delta, America, US Airways, and British Airways.
11:47-12:00PM: To protect the names of the innocent "Joe" claims that he has me on hold saying he is looking into other flights. He probably was making note on my file that I am the biggest pain in the ass ever. Comes back on the line to say nothing is available, although he could put me on a flight on December 27th to Orlando. I go CRAZY, telling him to not DARE take me off my flight on December 26th, and then go on this staged emotional rant where I said, and I quote, "You know what this is nothing personal but lets be honest, you don't even know me nor do you care what will happen to me after I hang up this phone. You will forget all about me, yet I will still be here sitting all alone in this room. ALL ALONE. Listen, I have no one, absolutely NO ONE. All my friends are home and my family is thousands of miles away. I am living out of my suitcases, but what do you care? You are just going to go home to your family tonight and have a nice Christmas."
12:05PM: Clearly flattery doesn't work. He tells me he can't do anything and to have a nice day. Decide to drown my sorrows in yet another Tesco 2 pound Meal Deal of a chicken and bacon wrap, prawn cocktail chips, and orange juice. At the register the same moron Apu (no I am not stereotyping that was his name) who told me 12 hours earlier to use the self checkout, told me to do it again. Once again I said "I can't my debit card is a swipe card". And once again he said it will work and once AGAIN I was right and he was wrong but of course I looked like the idiot who could not use a debit card...
12:30PM: Screw this, I'm not waiting another hour to call Virgin back. I try once again and now reach a third man talks to me and this time he claims there is a flight to Orlando on Dec 22nd (tomorrow) from Gatwick at 1pm and then I can take a American Airlines flight from Orlando to JFK. I take it, finally my nightmare is over...so I thought...
After this I start partying it up because in all honesty, my 3 month period of being "21" is about to end in about 24 hours, go out to dinner and drinks with my only remaining friend in London and some of his friends.
11:30PM: This starts the drunken quest to get from London Bridge back to Hampstead then back to Clapham Common before the last tube is running. Thankfully we make it and are back by 1am. While checking out I ask reception for the mail one last time, apparently they had been forgetting to give me a card from my grandmother for a month now...
Day 3
I'll save you the minor details of riding the Gatwick Express but anyways I get to the ticket counter and see my flight is delayed until 2:15 from 1pm...this is where all the fun starts.
me to throw food in my carry on into the suitcase since it weighs less. I am trying to tell her though that there is no physical space left in the suitcase. She then wants to see the contents in my suitcase, at which she says "So what do you like Jaffa Cakes or something? Take them out!" BITCH made me put my jaffa cakes in my suitcase. Fast forward 24 hours later and yes they were squished, I am still morning the loss of them. But now back to Jane... she is now making me take clothing and such out of the bag that is overweight. I take out my film studies books and they were the culprits. So now I am under the maximum but am still going to be charged an overweight fee. She "lets me go" since I am .5kg over on my carry on. I leave but before I go I tell her to learn how to smile. (It was a polite way of telling her F**K YOU! To piss her off I then took off my scarf and sweater in front of her and stuffed it into the bag...
She is getting mentioned in my letter to Richard Branson...
Following so far? At this point it may be best to take a break, grab a cup of coffee or something because this story is only about halfway over...
12:45 PM: My gate number is supposed to appear
1:00PM: Gate number appears, takes about 20 minutes to walk to that gate. Upon arrival at the gate we are all sitting there waiting and the lovely people at Virgin tell us that there are not enough flight attendants to man the plane. After they find ones to work the flight AND clear security we will be able to board. While this is all going on I realize there is no Wi Fi in the terminal so I have to call my family on my phone to tell them I am delayed, by this point I am thinking I may miss my connecting flight. Then the stewardess comes on and says we won't leave until 4pm London time which means we will get in at 8:30PM Orlando time, I am missing my 7:35 connecting flight...
!:00-4:00 PM: While sitting around I realize that I am just about the only American on my flight and that practically everyone on this flight is indeed a British family with what seems 10 kids each. At one point there was a kid sniffing his shoe. Then making a face to the effect that "oh god that smells"..only to sniff it again. Dumb kid...Then closer to 4pm the terminal started turning into a playground for all the kids. PSA to all parents out there: An airport terminal is NOT your kid's play pen!
4:00PM- 1:30AM London time: Flight finally leaves! On the flight I had the honor of sitting next to this mother and her son. They were separated from their other family members and through out the whole flight she was worried about her poor son Charlie who was "sick" (sick as in the British sense of the word meaning puked). The son for EVERYTHING that something did to him said : "CHEERRRRSSSSS". It was quite comical after awhile. If he asked to get up he said "CHEERRRRSSSSSS". Sat down, "CHEERRRSSSSS". Flight attendant gave him food "CHEERRRSSSSS". Getting the picture? Then at the beginning of the flight I forgot to include the part where the mother said to me "so you going to talk or be silent the whole trip?" She was a lovely woman so we got along fine. Then mid-flight the baby puked across from me. Thank god for the TV, it allowed me to watch Despicable Me and the end of "Going the Distance", which I must say was the worst ending ever!
1:30AM London/ 8:30AM Orlando: I put my hands up and I was nodding my head like yeaaaa because I was back in the USA! Customs was a breeze (almost too much of a breeze, but than again I was the only American on the flight!) Got my bags and then had to go to the ticket counter. There was no more flights for the night so they put me on an American Airlines flight at 8:25 AM the next morning and got me a room in the Hyatt for the night, plus a $15 meal voucher. My grandparents were on standby to come get me from Tampa but in the end they didn't have to. I didn't mind being stuck in the hotel though, despite the endless walk with all 4 of my bags because I discovered I was in a king sized suite! Hell I could have spend Christmas there and I would be fine!
Day 4
8:25 AM-10:55AM: Flight to JFK, this part is uneventful but at one point some guy was like "Hey Brother, can I sit near the window?" It was fine since no one was sitting there, but don't call me brother...ever...
10:55AM: FINALLY AT JFK, my travelling nightmare was finally over!
Morning Dec 21: I wake up at 9:15AM to hear the cleaner speaking jive as usual, get on skype to call Virgin Atlantic again.
9:45 AM: Waiting for 20 minutes now, realize I am hungry and open a container of fig rolls, as soon as I start chewing I am naturally put on the phone with an associate.
10:00AM: Get put on a flight on December 26th from Heathrow to JFK, won't be home for Christmas, but at least know when I am going home so I can plan accordingly. According to the man I spoke with that was the earliest flight I could get to anywhere in the East Coast.
10:15AM: Call Dad, tell him my situation. He makes me realize that the fuckers at Virgin just walked all over me. How can the ONLY flight to the US be no sooner than December 26. I realize he has a point and decide to call back after a shower.
11:15AM: Take a shower and then once again call Virgin. This time I get through in 20 minutes and am greeted by the biggest jerk ever. I tell him that I realize that clearly Virgin just played me into thinking that I would be ok getting on a flight no sooner than December 26th. He tells me that its all the governments fault (like I haven't heard that excuse before) and actually starts yelling at me. I demand that look into other flights on Delta, America, US Airways, and British Airways.
11:47-12:00PM: To protect the names of the innocent "Joe" claims that he has me on hold saying he is looking into other flights. He probably was making note on my file that I am the biggest pain in the ass ever. Comes back on the line to say nothing is available, although he could put me on a flight on December 27th to Orlando. I go CRAZY, telling him to not DARE take me off my flight on December 26th, and then go on this staged emotional rant where I said, and I quote, "You know what this is nothing personal but lets be honest, you don't even know me nor do you care what will happen to me after I hang up this phone. You will forget all about me, yet I will still be here sitting all alone in this room. ALL ALONE. Listen, I have no one, absolutely NO ONE. All my friends are home and my family is thousands of miles away. I am living out of my suitcases, but what do you care? You are just going to go home to your family tonight and have a nice Christmas."
12:05PM: Clearly flattery doesn't work. He tells me he can't do anything and to have a nice day. Decide to drown my sorrows in yet another Tesco 2 pound Meal Deal of a chicken and bacon wrap, prawn cocktail chips, and orange juice. At the register the same moron Apu (no I am not stereotyping that was his name) who told me 12 hours earlier to use the self checkout, told me to do it again. Once again I said "I can't my debit card is a swipe card". And once again he said it will work and once AGAIN I was right and he was wrong but of course I looked like the idiot who could not use a debit card...
12:30PM: Screw this, I'm not waiting another hour to call Virgin back. I try once again and now reach a third man talks to me and this time he claims there is a flight to Orlando on Dec 22nd (tomorrow) from Gatwick at 1pm and then I can take a American Airlines flight from Orlando to JFK. I take it, finally my nightmare is over...so I thought...
After this I start partying it up because in all honesty, my 3 month period of being "21" is about to end in about 24 hours, go out to dinner and drinks with my only remaining friend in London and some of his friends.
11:30PM: This starts the drunken quest to get from London Bridge back to Hampstead then back to Clapham Common before the last tube is running. Thankfully we make it and are back by 1am. While checking out I ask reception for the mail one last time, apparently they had been forgetting to give me a card from my grandmother for a month now...
Day 3
I'll save you the minor details of riding the Gatwick Express but anyways I get to the ticket counter and see my flight is delayed until 2:15 from 1pm...this is where all the fun starts.
me to throw food in my carry on into the suitcase since it weighs less. I am trying to tell her though that there is no physical space left in the suitcase. She then wants to see the contents in my suitcase, at which she says "So what do you like Jaffa Cakes or something? Take them out!" BITCH made me put my jaffa cakes in my suitcase. Fast forward 24 hours later and yes they were squished, I am still morning the loss of them. But now back to Jane... she is now making me take clothing and such out of the bag that is overweight. I take out my film studies books and they were the culprits. So now I am under the maximum but am still going to be charged an overweight fee. She "lets me go" since I am .5kg over on my carry on. I leave but before I go I tell her to learn how to smile. (It was a polite way of telling her F**K YOU! To piss her off I then took off my scarf and sweater in front of her and stuffed it into the bag...
She is getting mentioned in my letter to Richard Branson...
Following so far? At this point it may be best to take a break, grab a cup of coffee or something because this story is only about halfway over...
12:45 PM: My gate number is supposed to appear
1:00PM: Gate number appears, takes about 20 minutes to walk to that gate. Upon arrival at the gate we are all sitting there waiting and the lovely people at Virgin tell us that there are not enough flight attendants to man the plane. After they find ones to work the flight AND clear security we will be able to board. While this is all going on I realize there is no Wi Fi in the terminal so I have to call my family on my phone to tell them I am delayed, by this point I am thinking I may miss my connecting flight. Then the stewardess comes on and says we won't leave until 4pm London time which means we will get in at 8:30PM Orlando time, I am missing my 7:35 connecting flight...
!:00-4:00 PM: While sitting around I realize that I am just about the only American on my flight and that practically everyone on this flight is indeed a British family with what seems 10 kids each. At one point there was a kid sniffing his shoe. Then making a face to the effect that "oh god that smells"..only to sniff it again. Dumb kid...Then closer to 4pm the terminal started turning into a playground for all the kids. PSA to all parents out there: An airport terminal is NOT your kid's play pen!
4:00PM- 1:30AM London time: Flight finally leaves! On the flight I had the honor of sitting next to this mother and her son. They were separated from their other family members and through out the whole flight she was worried about her poor son Charlie who was "sick" (sick as in the British sense of the word meaning puked). The son for EVERYTHING that something did to him said : "CHEERRRRSSSSS". It was quite comical after awhile. If he asked to get up he said "CHEERRRRSSSSSS". Sat down, "CHEERRRSSSSS". Flight attendant gave him food "CHEERRRSSSSS". Getting the picture? Then at the beginning of the flight I forgot to include the part where the mother said to me "so you going to talk or be silent the whole trip?" She was a lovely woman so we got along fine. Then mid-flight the baby puked across from me. Thank god for the TV, it allowed me to watch Despicable Me and the end of "Going the Distance", which I must say was the worst ending ever!
1:30AM London/ 8:30AM Orlando: I put my hands up and I was nodding my head like yeaaaa because I was back in the USA! Customs was a breeze (almost too much of a breeze, but than again I was the only American on the flight!) Got my bags and then had to go to the ticket counter. There was no more flights for the night so they put me on an American Airlines flight at 8:25 AM the next morning and got me a room in the Hyatt for the night, plus a $15 meal voucher. My grandparents were on standby to come get me from Tampa but in the end they didn't have to. I didn't mind being stuck in the hotel though, despite the endless walk with all 4 of my bags because I discovered I was in a king sized suite! Hell I could have spend Christmas there and I would be fine!
Day 4
8:25 AM-10:55AM: Flight to JFK, this part is uneventful but at one point some guy was like "Hey Brother, can I sit near the window?" It was fine since no one was sitting there, but don't call me brother...ever...
10:55AM: FINALLY AT JFK, my travelling nightmare was finally over!
Monday, December 20, 2010
Stranded Abroad
The British Empire once controlled a quarter of the worlds population. That is a whopping 25%, 1 in 4 people were under the crown...and you know what, THEY CAN'T HANDLE 5 INCHES OF SNOW!!!!!!!!!! I thought the US response to Katrina was bad, but hey at least no one really saw that one coming. 5 INCHES....5 INCHES (ok depending on where you live 8) yet still, that wouldn't even be on the "everyone have a french toast party" on Joe Snedeker's Panic Meter during WNEP's morning weather forcast...
This is the ultimate shag... Shagged Abroad has now become, Stranded Abroad...
Day 1/2: Awoke at 7am on December 19th, moving my hips like yeaaaa in anticipation to my triumphant return to the US, only to be told my flight was cancelled. By approximately 9:30AM I had filled out Virgin's online form for requesting a re booking. Received a follow up email saying that I would be notified within 12 hours, well it is currently 11:20 PM on December 20th...like yea...
Panic for quite a bit, then started receiving text messages from Virgin saying don't even come to Heathrow because they are kicking everyone out of the airport. Heathrow received a whopping 5-8 inches of snow, plus they are out of rock salt. I didn't know there was a crisis in the UK over a shortage of Quick Joe.
10:30 AM Dec 19th: Cheer myself with a 2 pound meal deal. Through thick and thin, the 2 pound meal deal is there for me. Decided to go healthy, had a chicken Caesar, salt and vinegar chips, and some OJ
1:00-3:00PM Dec 19th: I hope while you read each entry you have the 24 clock ticking in your head with Kiefer's voice over...decide to nap to take away the pain. No response from Virgin via email or phone. Phone dies. Missed Dad's phone call
4:00PM Dec 19th: Wake up from nap to the chaos of the Boyko's freaking out because they couldn't reach me via phone. Listen to voicemail, apparently I didn't set one up for the past 3 months, needed to do so but couldn't. Phone wasn't recognizing the * key. My Dad's message remains a mystery....
5:00PM -10:00PM Dec 19th: My friend Chris makes me feel better by putting on Fox News, and then Al Jazerra English, which is quite good actually. Then I become addicted to British TV...watch "Come Dine With Me"...now addicted, mad that the picky chick won despite the fact her own food was good...Di so should have won...Thankfully for Sky On Demand, was able to pause before while running to Tesco of a beef and red wine ravioli with a side of veggies and passion fruit yogurt for dessert.
10:30PM (?ish) Dec 19th: Introduced to "Miranda", so dumb of a show it is actually great. LOVE the scene where she is trying to wax her va jay jay in the tub and gets stuck to the bottom of the tub.
11:00PM Dec 19th- Go to bed to take away the pain, still no email response from Virgin, Thanks gorgeous!!!
7:30AM Dec 20th- Wake up to see if any news on the Virgin Atlantic front, nothing...and to make matters worse all flights today are cancelled as well since they were unable to deice the planes and the runway. IT IS CALLED ROCK SALT, maybe it isn't common on the island of GREAT BRITAIN but you know what in America its a staple and it gets us through all our snow storms, from dustings to blizzards just fine.
9:00AM Dec 20th- Heathrow releases a statement saying we need to "reflect on our actions"...See my above argument, reflect??? No pour more rock salt...
11:00AM Dec 20th- It is 2 pound meal deal time again, this time chicken and bacon wrap with cheese and onion chips and more OJ, so bad for you but soooo good
11:15AM Dec 20th- See Cleaner. She is PISSED because she thinks I am the one who left all the plastic bags of recycling in the kitchen. She can't yell at me in English though, only Jive...
12:00AM Dec 20th- Now over 24 hours since I initially emailed Virgin still no response. Decide to "reflect" and take a hajj to Lancaster Gate and see Aunt Victoria's old flat. Beautiful place, but finding High Marylbone Road was too difficult, plus I was tired and cold. Stop for a smoked salmon bagel with creme cheese and some Earl Grey
2:00PM Dec 20th- Mouse on my laptop has not been working for the past few days, tired of using the tab key. Some loser is in the PAWS room, soon as he leaves I "borrow" one of the mouses.
3:00PM Dec 20th- With a mouse in my possession continue calling Virgin, while waiting for that email, thank god I don't have my hand on my ass waiting for it.
7:00PM Dec 20th- Venture out for food, make another trip to Tesco, Sainsbury's too far and too cold. Sidewalks still not shoveled but the roads are just wet, no snow cover. Tonight's meal? Microwaveable Tesco's finest Paella and some vanilla yogurt for dessert.
10:00PM Dec 20th- Re-email Virgin with my info, write on their Facebook wall, AND call them via skype while chatting with STA as well. No response from either, after 40minutes I get cut off by Virgin. Call bastards back, playing the same 5 songs while on hold. Tired of listening to "Carwash" and the Jackson 5...not my type of music really
11:40PM Dec 20th: In an IM from my dad: [from your mother] just get our son home safe. [dad] what am i fuckin chuck norris?
More to follow as the night unfolds, keep tuning in for updates...
This is the ultimate shag... Shagged Abroad has now become, Stranded Abroad...
Day 1/2: Awoke at 7am on December 19th, moving my hips like yeaaaa in anticipation to my triumphant return to the US, only to be told my flight was cancelled. By approximately 9:30AM I had filled out Virgin's online form for requesting a re booking. Received a follow up email saying that I would be notified within 12 hours, well it is currently 11:20 PM on December 20th...like yea...
Panic for quite a bit, then started receiving text messages from Virgin saying don't even come to Heathrow because they are kicking everyone out of the airport. Heathrow received a whopping 5-8 inches of snow, plus they are out of rock salt. I didn't know there was a crisis in the UK over a shortage of Quick Joe.
10:30 AM Dec 19th: Cheer myself with a 2 pound meal deal. Through thick and thin, the 2 pound meal deal is there for me. Decided to go healthy, had a chicken Caesar, salt and vinegar chips, and some OJ
1:00-3:00PM Dec 19th: I hope while you read each entry you have the 24 clock ticking in your head with Kiefer's voice over...decide to nap to take away the pain. No response from Virgin via email or phone. Phone dies. Missed Dad's phone call
4:00PM Dec 19th: Wake up from nap to the chaos of the Boyko's freaking out because they couldn't reach me via phone. Listen to voicemail, apparently I didn't set one up for the past 3 months, needed to do so but couldn't. Phone wasn't recognizing the * key. My Dad's message remains a mystery....
5:00PM -10:00PM Dec 19th: My friend Chris makes me feel better by putting on Fox News, and then Al Jazerra English, which is quite good actually. Then I become addicted to British TV...watch "Come Dine With Me"...now addicted, mad that the picky chick won despite the fact her own food was good...Di so should have won...Thankfully for Sky On Demand, was able to pause before while running to Tesco of a beef and red wine ravioli with a side of veggies and passion fruit yogurt for dessert.
10:30PM (?ish) Dec 19th: Introduced to "Miranda", so dumb of a show it is actually great. LOVE the scene where she is trying to wax her va jay jay in the tub and gets stuck to the bottom of the tub.
11:00PM Dec 19th- Go to bed to take away the pain, still no email response from Virgin, Thanks gorgeous!!!
7:30AM Dec 20th- Wake up to see if any news on the Virgin Atlantic front, nothing...and to make matters worse all flights today are cancelled as well since they were unable to deice the planes and the runway. IT IS CALLED ROCK SALT, maybe it isn't common on the island of GREAT BRITAIN but you know what in America its a staple and it gets us through all our snow storms, from dustings to blizzards just fine.
9:00AM Dec 20th- Heathrow releases a statement saying we need to "reflect on our actions"...See my above argument, reflect??? No pour more rock salt...
11:00AM Dec 20th- It is 2 pound meal deal time again, this time chicken and bacon wrap with cheese and onion chips and more OJ, so bad for you but soooo good
11:15AM Dec 20th- See Cleaner. She is PISSED because she thinks I am the one who left all the plastic bags of recycling in the kitchen. She can't yell at me in English though, only Jive...
12:00AM Dec 20th- Now over 24 hours since I initially emailed Virgin still no response. Decide to "reflect" and take a hajj to Lancaster Gate and see Aunt Victoria's old flat. Beautiful place, but finding High Marylbone Road was too difficult, plus I was tired and cold. Stop for a smoked salmon bagel with creme cheese and some Earl Grey
2:00PM Dec 20th- Mouse on my laptop has not been working for the past few days, tired of using the tab key. Some loser is in the PAWS room, soon as he leaves I "borrow" one of the mouses.
3:00PM Dec 20th- With a mouse in my possession continue calling Virgin, while waiting for that email, thank god I don't have my hand on my ass waiting for it.
7:00PM Dec 20th- Venture out for food, make another trip to Tesco, Sainsbury's too far and too cold. Sidewalks still not shoveled but the roads are just wet, no snow cover. Tonight's meal? Microwaveable Tesco's finest Paella and some vanilla yogurt for dessert.
10:00PM Dec 20th- Re-email Virgin with my info, write on their Facebook wall, AND call them via skype while chatting with STA as well. No response from either, after 40minutes I get cut off by Virgin. Call bastards back, playing the same 5 songs while on hold. Tired of listening to "Carwash" and the Jackson 5...not my type of music really
11:40PM Dec 20th: In an IM from my dad: [from your mother] just get our son home safe. [dad] what am i fuckin chuck norris?
More to follow as the night unfolds, keep tuning in for updates...
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Homeless
It was another typical Thursday morning. I have the day off but I am always awakened to the beautiful voice of the cleaner, Maria, speaking jive with one of her chikas on her cell phone in the hallway. That is actually putting it lightly since the woman practically screams into the phone. Her friend must be deaf and if she wasn't before she is now.
Now the cleaner always comes into my room on Thursday and it usually depends on how slow she is doing her job. I heard her in the hallway and totally forgot it was my day to get my room cleaned so I went to take a shower. The water wasn't the hottest this morning so I was definitely in there ten minutes top. I stroll back down after my shower go to open my door and it won't open...wiggle the handle again...nothing. So now I drop my wet towel and shampoo and go running down the hall to see if the cleaner is in any of the kitchens or the bathrooms. She is nowhere to be found. Somehow this woman was able to clean my room, finish the other rooms and leave in a span of me taking a shower in ten minutes. Thank god at least I had a pair of shorts and a t shirt with me because now I'm thinking SHIT I have to walk all the way to reception in the cold in my Inca Kola t shirt and black gym shorts, with no shoes. Luckily Zoe came out of her room. Apparently there is a phone in our kitchen that has a direct line to security!? Three months here and I failed to notice we have an emergency phone.
Cut to me standing at my door waiting for security. An ambulance almost came also because I gave Sheenagh the biggest heart attack as she walked outside her door. Once her heart stopped racing she left and then comes the security guards. Of all the guards it just had to be the Polish guy who I swear is Vladimir Putin's long lost son. He's pretty jacked ala Putin and shows absolutely no sympathy or emotion. He opens my door and then says, "This is gonna sound stupid, but you should keep your key on you at all times." I felt like saying, "She shouldn't have locked my door, I was gone for ten minutes tops!", but I was afraid he'd go KGB on my ass so I kept my mouth shut. Then I get back into my room. She didn't even vacuum my floor or clean my sink. She just took the garbage out and she used the same bag because the wrapper from my Tesco sandwich the other night was still in there. Obviously she isn't the smartest at covering up her trail because she left a whole lot of evidence. Mrs. Cleaner if you are out there somewhere reading this, I only have one more week with you (holy shit it's only one more week), please clean my floor and sink one last time. It would make me so happy.
I'm gonna start a new segment, the daily Boyko, since apparently the Boyko's have their own cult following with the readers: Apparently my 85 year old grandfather Wasil discovered youtube, and now as a result he is playing polkas all day at Viktoria Richards Chocolates! Oh joy! In his honor here is "Who stole the Kishka?" Look at the highest rated comment under the video!
Now the cleaner always comes into my room on Thursday and it usually depends on how slow she is doing her job. I heard her in the hallway and totally forgot it was my day to get my room cleaned so I went to take a shower. The water wasn't the hottest this morning so I was definitely in there ten minutes top. I stroll back down after my shower go to open my door and it won't open...wiggle the handle again...nothing. So now I drop my wet towel and shampoo and go running down the hall to see if the cleaner is in any of the kitchens or the bathrooms. She is nowhere to be found. Somehow this woman was able to clean my room, finish the other rooms and leave in a span of me taking a shower in ten minutes. Thank god at least I had a pair of shorts and a t shirt with me because now I'm thinking SHIT I have to walk all the way to reception in the cold in my Inca Kola t shirt and black gym shorts, with no shoes. Luckily Zoe came out of her room. Apparently there is a phone in our kitchen that has a direct line to security!? Three months here and I failed to notice we have an emergency phone.
Cut to me standing at my door waiting for security. An ambulance almost came also because I gave Sheenagh the biggest heart attack as she walked outside her door. Once her heart stopped racing she left and then comes the security guards. Of all the guards it just had to be the Polish guy who I swear is Vladimir Putin's long lost son. He's pretty jacked ala Putin and shows absolutely no sympathy or emotion. He opens my door and then says, "This is gonna sound stupid, but you should keep your key on you at all times." I felt like saying, "She shouldn't have locked my door, I was gone for ten minutes tops!", but I was afraid he'd go KGB on my ass so I kept my mouth shut. Then I get back into my room. She didn't even vacuum my floor or clean my sink. She just took the garbage out and she used the same bag because the wrapper from my Tesco sandwich the other night was still in there. Obviously she isn't the smartest at covering up her trail because she left a whole lot of evidence. Mrs. Cleaner if you are out there somewhere reading this, I only have one more week with you (holy shit it's only one more week), please clean my floor and sink one last time. It would make me so happy.
I'm gonna start a new segment, the daily Boyko, since apparently the Boyko's have their own cult following with the readers: Apparently my 85 year old grandfather Wasil discovered youtube, and now as a result he is playing polkas all day at Viktoria Richards Chocolates! Oh joy! In his honor here is "Who stole the Kishka?" Look at the highest rated comment under the video!
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