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Wednesday, 28 September 2005

Hello, you're not that tall.

Those were my landlady's first words to me. I think we'll get along fine.

Thanks to everyone who kept their fingers crossed for me. I'm here, I'm well, and I'm freezing.

Virgin Atlantic airlines is cool, just so you know. You have this personal TV with hours of movies and games and tv shows and music and all kinds of stuff. I watched the pilot episode of House, so still managed to get my Tuesday-night Hugh Laurie fix, even though I was on a plane. Isn’t technology keen? The hot meal was very good and included Tillamook cheddar, which is pretty much all it takes to make my day. Then they brought around bags with an eye-mask and earplugs. I had trouble sleeping, though, which made me very sad.

Also, remember my Samsonite Spinner? I officially want to marry it and have its babies. Everyone else ran through the airport pushing around those Smart Carts, careening all over the hallways and running into people. I thought I was going to have to drag my two suitcases behind me while lunging around in the manner of Frankenstein or other ambulatory-challenged individual. But I didn’t account for the beauty and glory that is my sweet Spinner. Because it has the 4 wheels, it doesn’t NEED to be hauled. I just pushed it in front of me and dragged my carry-on bag behind like some brisk, capable, with-it person. It was like a beautiful dance. Everyone was envious, I’m pretty sure. At least that’s what I think they were muttering about as I waltzed by.

Also I love my suitcase because I was able to pack all of my stuff in one half of the case, only then I had a minor panic attack because suddenly I worried that I hadn’t packed enough stuff and maybe I wasn’t bringing enough clothes with me. Some of you are now rolling your eyes and saying, “Well, of course you didn’t bring enough clothes! This is you we’re talking about. You only take two shirts on business trips and then you have to buy more halfway through the week." Yes, you have my number. But I have my precious precious down comforter and Egyptian cotton sheets, which I vacuum-packed and put in the empty other half of my suitcase, along with a winter coat and a flute and a baby rhinoceros. Who’s rolling their eyes now, huh? (It’s probably still you.) And anyway, that was all part of my plan. Now I get to go to H&M and spend all the clothes money I’ve been saving up. I’d better do it fast, too, before my better financial judgment kicks in.

That passport check took about 11 million years, I tell you. It’s a weird thing, those lines. You are doing the switchback thing, so you see the same people over and over again for 45 minutes, but you have to avoid eye contact and pretend that you don’t see them over and over again. Here were some of the people I kept seeing:

Middle-aged black man in a suit, carrying a very girly black & red carrier bag that had words like “groovy girl” and “really glam” and “Posh!” written all over it.

Young Muslim woman wearing a head scarf and long black robes. She was completely covered, but she was wearing black sequined flip flops, lots of rings, and was text-messaging on the flattest coolest cell phone I’ve ever seen.

The iPod people, who made up 1 out of every 5 people in line. One woman was in a completely different line at the other end of the room and I could hear her music. Also she was wearing 4-inch leopard-print porn shoes. Those who have heard me talk about porn shoes will know what I’m talking about. I have no idea how anyone can wear something like that on an international flight and while standing in all those lines. I’m wearing my Chacos today, and am very grateful to them. I was less grateful, though, when I dropped my laptop case on my foot and gave myself some kind of lesion. Or fracture.

Tomorrow I'm going grocery shopping and getting my bearings on campus. I'll also be telling you more about my room and posting some pictures so you can tell me what to do with it. Best to start thinking now about what you would do with a room decorated in pink and green.

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