This is the blog that doesn't end ...

Every time I say there will be no more blogs, and then I come back for more. Ok - I like blogging, it's not a chore. But why doesn't that work in other situations? Why, Jesus/Santa/Toothfairy are you making me eat those words over and over again, but didn't listen to me when I said 'I don't want to be in Florence any more. I want to go home now.' It stands to reason that I should, therefore, be stuck in Florence forever!

Cos I did actually say that. Once. Probably after I lost a round against Pronomi or something. Which I'm just about to study because I have FIFTEEN HOURS AT THE AIRPORT NOW, WITH NOTHING TO DO!!!!

That is the reason for this blog! I thought I would be on a plane right about now - at exactly about now, actually - possibly nursing my excess baggage - and reading my dictionary because I would now very much like to know how to say the C word :-) I am instead undertaking my second all nighter in only 5 days. I don't think I've done two all nighters in 5 years!!! Not since the days of Nietzsche and the existential uni thesis have I kept so many late hours company. And I've just mentioned Nietzsche twice in almost as many blogs, so I'm either just really nostalgic for syphillitic philosophers and late night musings, or I'm on the verge of a nihilistic crisis!!

I am sooo tired, and I apologise! This will be a very innane post! It's two am, and I'm still waiting for that third espresso to kick in! And it's airport coffee too, so it may never kick in - I'll just die!!

Last Friday I didn't sleep for vodka (and, I have discovered via photos, TEQUILA! EVIL!!!) Tonight, I am keeping vigil at Heathrow. I'm only about 50% confident that I'm getting on a plane tomorrow! Now I'm afraid to leave the airport because NOBODY seems able or willing to reassure me. I think it's going to be a surprise!! Now, I'm a big fan of surprises - I've long wanted a surprise party, a pie in the face at any event bar my wedding, and random flowers are always welcome. This surprise, however, is SHITHOUSE!

This is positively the last time I ever use a travel agent. Amen.

In short, the ticket details I am looking at RIGHT NOW are 11 hours out. The flight I have on it doesn't exist, and for about an hour nobody would tell me if I had a seat on any Emirates flight at all - real, or imaginary. Preferably real.

WTF?

How does this happen? Emirates kepts cutting me off, STA wasn't open and as I began to unravel with a flat battery on my cell phone, Mia Sorella stepped in to become my champion. Grazie mille, bella! Sei straordinaria! Spero vengo a casa presto!
When I missed my plane in San Sebastian (because, admittedly, I am a mental midget) it was an adventure. When I missed my train in Rome, though I was pissed that I might miss class (I am SUCH a nerd!) I got over it. When I thought (still present tense, actually!) I might not be leaving for Australia this year - cos if I don't get this plane I will be spending 2011 begging with the gypsies to pay for another one! - I. Spat. The. Dummy. Non voglio essere un gypsy! Their clothes are rank and they are SCARY! I don't want to be scary! I'm so angry at the travel agent right now, and yet I won't ever say anything to them; I'm nice! And weak as piss! I just want everyone to get along and live happily ever after!! I want my bed. I want my friends. I want Jack Bauer. I want my mum!!!! (I want a surprise that's not cavolo!)

The upside is that I now have time to elaborate on my lovely trip to Cornwall, which went longer than expected because it was just so brilliant to be with friends by the seaside chilling out! I worked with Laura ten years ago, and yet it only felt like ten months since I'd seen her. And now she has a two year old, who is the most enchanting being ever! He stole my heart - and made me more than a little bit maternal :-) (In-joke: Mummy - there's something wrong with your lady!!!) I want one - Laura and James, he is magic!!

I visited the Eden Project, and fell in love with the coastline. I also remembered why it is I love England so much: Black faced sheep and clotted cream!!!! I swear to God, I am the reincarnation of a heroine in a pastoral novel!

Funnily enough, London hasn't had quite the same effect this time around. I am ashamed to admit that I STILL haven't seen Westminster Abbey, and will have to keep that dream fresh for another ten years now! I think I prefer my cities small. With Duomos. And Chianti!

Dear Melbourne: Please get a Duomo. And move to Italy. Amen.

Ok, I'm going to go and study verb conjugations now. It's quite a nice environment for it, actually - I don't know that there are any actual Italians at Heathrow presently, but there are certainly quite a few crackpots, so if I start conversing with myself I will fit RIGHT in :-) And maybe even end up on You-Tube!

Me: Come Stai, Kathryn?
Me: Sto Arrabbiato. E Tu?
Me: Sono annoiato con questa conversazione con me!

I repeat: I am so tired!! Hopefully this really is the last blog from Europe! Time for another killer espresso ...