Life is like a box of chocolates ...

There was a big traffic jam at breakfast - tons of people staying at this hostel. There was a big lineup to use the toasters - they were the automatic conveyor belt type. It took forever because people didn't realize they could put their bread in immediately after the previous person, but instead waited for them to be completely done first. I would have liked some cereal too but the line for that was too long, and I wanted to get out of the hostel and have a walk before going to the airport. There was some kind of Spanish high school group staying at the hostel - a group to keep an eye on not for their academic abilities, but because it was a big group of future Spanish hotties! Ahhh ... to NOT be so old and decrepit once again! Off to the Thames for a walk - the area that the hostel is located in is quite dead, but it is a Sunday after all. I came across a nice little park along the way. A little further down the road towards the river I encountered a freeway - I didn't feel like being road kill so the river walk wasn't going to happen! Back to the hostel to check out and then I was off to Heathrow. I wasn't paying attention and got onto the wrong metro - oh well, I wasn't in any hurry anyway. Anything that delays my arrival at the airport is a good thing - mentally, it feels like I'm extending my trip. I walked around Heathrow and its myriad stores. I loaded up on the free chocolate and booze samples at the duty-free shops. I needed something to dull the pain of leaving! I was going to buy some duty-free booze but found the prices to be extremely high - a bottle of rum would have cost significantly less in Calgary. Blasted crappy exchange rate!!! I arrived at the gate to find a huge lineup just to get inside the gate's sitting area. I don't understand why - it's a case of hurry up and wait. There's no reason for it! Unless these individuals were sick and twisted enough to be actually looking forward to going home!!! Masochists!!! It's an unusual thing - arriving at the gate is when I usually start running through different scenarios in my head. I always secretly hope that there's a problem with the plane, or a freak storm that will delay my trip home. Sadly nothing happened despite my best efforts - I've started doing a variation of a rain dance but it's never worked! Though the Japanese tourists always seem to get a kick out of it when I break out my geisha outfit ... Another boring plane ride home - the meal was a crappy salad and some kind of chicken. It was served with a strange spaghetti/spaetzle hybrid and is best described as gelatinized shoelaces. They tasted like shoelaces that had come loose and been dragged around a filthy Amsterdam public urinal. Don't ask me how I know what that tastes like ... At least the carrots were surprisingly crisp and fairly decent. Some movies helped pass the time - "A night at the museum", "The Hurricane", and "A Good Year". I could almost imagine myself as Russell Crowe's character in the movie - except that I never would have stopped going to his uncle's vineyard in Provence to become a rich and successful businessman. I would've stayed my whole life there living as a bum, and drinking wine with the French hottie! Time quickly passed on the flight - the next thing you knew I was back home. Sigh ...

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