The Catherinette Chronicles

As promised, here’s a little excerpt from my travel journal…

Next time we go on vacation, mom’s getting a checklist which she must use prior to leaving the house. While her initial idea was to leave at 4pm (4.5 hours before we really needed to get to the airport-the flight left at 9:15), we weren’t on the road until 6pm.  This is the time that I had originally suggested.  First we had to drop the key off at her friend’s house, and then we had to turn the car around because mamacita had forgotten BOTH of her AMEX cards.

After 30 minutes of turning the house upside down and blaming my sister for the cards’ disappearance, we finally called the AMEX office and ordered replacements (which would be waiting for us in London).  Finally, at 6pm we were on our way to Dulles.

We ended up waiting at the checkout counter for half the time, then hiked to the gate for the remainder of our time.  That airport sucks.  Whoever had designed it should be shot, then drawn and quartered, then beaten with sticks.  Seriously now.  That place is an absolute disaster.  You need a map and compass to figure out where the hell to go.

Here’s my tip to you: never take a Benadryl on a plane.  While it helped my sister pass out, my mother and I ended up tired and totally uncomfortable.  All I could did was close my eyes and try to get comfortable. Something close to impossible when the person inf front of you as pushed his seat so far back that he’s practically sitting on your god damned lap.  Yeah, so comfy.

My sister is going to have British Airways cater her wedding.  Boy, did she love that “southwestern chicken.”  Mmm mmm good!  I believe the words she used to describe it were “nauseating” and “texture like wet dog food.”  So appetizing!!  She enjoyed the food so much that she decided to sleep right through breakfast.  I would have too, but the fact that I couldn’t sleep prevented me from doing that.  My mom says that I should have taken a higher dosage of Benadryl.  F that noise.  Id’ rather be awake and uncomfortable than dead tired and unable to sleep.

The arrival and taxi trip to our “apartment” was fairly uneventful. Once we got to the “apartment”, we quickly realized why it the place was so damn cheap. The room had yet to be cleaned, the toilet is in a closet without a sink or any ventilation, and the closet smells nastier than my feet have ever dared to smell. It’s as if something died and rotted in there, and then someone decided to throw some rotten meat in there because the smell wasn’t offensive enough. the second someone opens the door my eyes start to water and I get dizzy. My mom even tried to throw some of my foot powder in there, but that didn’t work at all.

Once we recovered from the smell of the nasty ass closet, we spent much of the day wandering around the area surrounding our “apartment”. We’re staying in Holburn, which is the legal district, so there are a bunch of business folks. Our initial escapade validated our suspiscions that we had chosen a poor location. Super. Stinky ass lodging in a boring part of town. Boo.

We had lunch in a little sandwich shop, and then went back for naps. At 5:30 we showered and then went back out on the town. This time, we headed out to Covent Garden. We alked around the market, and then ended up back by the “apartment”. On the way there, some complete psycho wrapped in an orange blanket came running up to me, screamed in face that he was carrying my child, and then kissed the air in front of my face. I was so scared that i nearly peed myself. Thankfully, he took off running down the street. Hope he doesn’t come find me and try to get me to pay child support. He was a freak and stuff.

For dinner, we had chips and corn nuts. An exciting meal for our first official night in London. Thankfully, my sister and I had snuck food back into our stinky room. Granted, the smell of the closet tainted the food an my pastry tasted like feet. It was pretty bad.

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