Dear Africa:

Wow.

Love,
Caitie

At last

We somehow got to Dubai. We had to wait in JFK for 12 hours to be put on standby for an 11.00 pm flight since we missed our 11.30 am flight on account of our flight from Salt Lake being 6 1/2 hours late. Wheee! It's a long story, you don't want to know.

Well ok, here it is: Our flight from SLC kept getting pushed back for some reason, and left after 6.00 am when it was supposed to leave at midnight. So we got to JKF at 12.30 and our flight to Dubai left at 11.30. The Emirates airline lady was kind of a jerk and said the flights that night, as well as for the next 3 days or so, were completely full and good luck getting standby for any of them. We were wondering what to do, or if we'd have to by all new tickets on a different airline or what. We decided to try our luck on the 11.00 or 11.15 one that night.

The lady said this booth would open up at 4 so we could be put on standby. So we went at 3 to be first there in line. When it did open, the computer wasn't working, so we waited 45 minutes for the tech guy to come fix it. Anyway, we eventually learned that we couldn't be put on standby YET because that guy wasn't authorized to do it w/o his supervisor, who was MIA, so we had to come back to this other place that opened up at 7. The guy said to look for him, and he'd take us first and make sure we were put at the top of the list. He was really nice.

So we did more waiting, which was fun, and got there at about 6.15. We were near the front of the check-in line and this other guy that was helping us (our friend wasn't there yet) didn't know how to do it so he said to ask this other lady. Our friend guy came running up and said something to the lady about how we should be put at the top of the list. So we finally got put on the standby list, and I figured we wouldn't get on either flight since they were both so full. But we were told to come back there at 10.15 to see if we were on the flight or not.

After 3 more delightful hours of sitting and waiting, dead tired, in uncomfortable chairs, listening to a noisy Indian family reunion or rally or something, we went back. People kept asking us what we were waiting for, and we'd explain we were on standby, and they'd say "Oh OK" and go off to fix us, and then someone else would ask what we were doing. So then this group of like 7 million Orange Shirt Missionary people came up at like quarter to eleven, so they got swamped checking them in. At this point the lady told us there was no way to get on flight 202 (the 11.00 flight) and we could wait to see if we could get on the 11.15 one that makes a stop in Hamburg. Ok so I'll skip some story and go to the part where all the airline people were looking for us apparently, and we were standing right in front of them, and they didn't realized that WE were the elusive family of three (which, as I mentioned, were standing right in front of them where they told us to wait).

So eventually this guy's like, "oh, you're that family of three? Oh yeah, you've had seats for a while." So he gave us our boarding passes. At this time it's like 10 to 11 and he said, "oh I can guarantee that flight won't leave at 11. You're fine." We couldn't believe it and practically skipped toward the security place. There, this guy was freaking out at someone and saying some -very- colorful things. Right when we were about to go through the door to the security line, an airport person said "Close the doors!" So the door to our freedom was slammed in our faces. (Noooooo!) Anyway, I guess this guy was a security threat but we FINALLY got let in, almost fainting from relief.

So we got on the plane and sat right behind Peter's parents. I watched a movie (there were over 200 to choose from!) and the ceiling, when the lights were off, had little lights in it that looked like stars! So cute! Anyway, my mom gave me this sleeping pill and last time i checked, it said there were 10 hours left of flight. When I woke up, there were 2 hours left. Yesss. So nice.

Then, it turns out, my mom's suitcase made it but they think the other three bags were put on the 11.15 flight that would get in at 8 the next morning (this morning) and they'll deliver our bags to us this afternoon. So. Hopefully that will happen, cause I'm tired of wearing these clothes. Luckily Amy has toothpaste and shampoo and other stuff for me to use.

Ok bye.

K, bye

Um...bye guys. I'm leaving tonight. So enjoy America for me, and celebrate its formation on the fourth.

Is it bad that one of the things I'm most excited for is going to Zanzibar because that's where Freddie Mercury's from? Cause I am. But can you blame me? I guess the other stuff will be cool too.

So if you want a giraffe, put in your order in the next few hours so I can know how many to bring home with me.

TRY to have fun without me, if you can. It'll be tough.

Eh? Eh?

Treasure Hunt

See it?

Ikea

Swedish people are rad. What with their putting dots over all those vowels. Heh. What were they thinking?

No but seriously you should go to your nearest Ikea if one near you exists. If you don't live near one, go cry. Hard.

And also:

Tee hee

A Cold and Broken Hallelujah

Just as an unexpected surprise, I'm writing about Jeff Buckley today, this being the tenth anniversary of his death.

If I were a genius or at least more talented than I am, I would pay him the poetic tribute that he deserves. But I'm not, so I'm just going to tell you that I like--nope--love his music. His lyrics are poetry and his music is perfection.

If you don't know who I'm talking about, shame. Shame on you. Go get whatever albums you can get your hands on and listen to it all day long.

May this demi-god rest in peace.

Yes, the irony has struck me that this was written by a young, idealist moron

I was looking in my black book of wonders for things to post on my blog. I dug up this little number. Enjoy:

You know what's not fair? Ageing. Aging? I looked it up; both are correct. Ageing looks right in handwriting, while Aging looks right in type. Weird.

Your young, vital, relatively attractive years are wasted on half-formed minds and poverty. Then, when you're experienced and sage and above all, rich, you're still the same person except you're not--you're and old person now. So you no longer count. You're discounted, swept off the stage to clear the way for "the future," the young, idealist morons who think they know. They think they know everything you've had to suffer and hurt and struggle to know. And they're wrong. They don't know. They don't know at all. And these are the people were modeling our society after? They set our trends, dominate our media, run our every institution? Whose idea was this?

People should be born with an old body, and get younger as a reward for their lives. Everyone should die at twenty.

cool

i like how some of you guys actually did that

Sending Out an S.O.S.

Hellllp.

The time has come--I have to trick some people into thinking that I'm a good writer.
Everyone pick your favorite blog and tell me which one it is. The only thing is, I have to have written it. Ok. Go.

Seriously, read ALL of my blogs and tell me which you like.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

It's time for a change. Several. Everyone tell me what to change and I'll...well I'll think about it. Ready, go.

Now I have that song stuck in my head.

One more thing: More poetry. There needs to be more poetry in the world, or at least my life. Everyone write no fewer than three (3) poems and send them my way in one form or another. Then I'll do something with them. Or not. Whatever. Ready go.

Maybe I'll Be a Hermit

No one on this planet is normal.

And it's nice to be niced to.

Why I love everyone

People are great. And I say that with no sarcasm whatsoever. Hordes of people are even better.
So Dick Cheney is coming to speak at graduation. Of course, this attracted a mass of protesters outside the JFSB. Fine, whatever. But one sign said: "Who's speaking next year, Osama bin Laden?"

uuummmm....

I don't know everything, and I try not to pretend otherwise.

I often say, don't listen to me when I say things cause I probably don't really know what I'm talking about. I think this can be applied to more people than I usually realize.

Almost like poetry

Care for some poems?

There once was a young girl called Masie
She was famous for being quite lazy
She just lay in bed
And it went to her head
And now, I'm afraid, she's gone crazy
-------------------------

THIS ONE'S FOR MAURY:
On a fine day all warm and sunny
Hopped a young loveable bunny
He heard a soft sound
And when he turned 'round
The hunter got him with his gunny
-------------------------

High up on a hill stood a chapel
And one day there was quite a loud grapple
Preacher rang out a bell
But it was just William Tell
Who'd aimed at his brother, not apple
-------------------------

Now some haikus. The first one's about spam.

The famous dinner
That meat which comes from a can
Why must we eat this
-------------------------

Round, chocolate cookie
What is that in your middle?
I still will eat you
-------------------------

Hero at the sword
First cries out his famous call,
"Freedom! Freedom! Free--"
--------------------------

The first sign of spring
The young buds look toward May
Oh my--how cliche

Lesser of two evils

You know how when you're sad or mad or something, and some clever one's like, "You know, it takes 34 (or however many) muscles to frown and only [17] to smile"? Do you ever think, Well then frowning would burn more calories wouldn't it?
So is frowning good for you? Like how they say shivering burns calories.
I'll try that one out next time someone tells me to smile: "It's my new weight-loss program" I'll say. You should try it too, smiley.

Um...?

Do you realize that in John Denver's song, "Sunshine on my shoulders" there is a line that says "Sunshine almost always makes me high"?

Is anyone else feeling a bit unsettled?

I have a secret....

...a secret called socks.
I love socks, because no one gets to know about them. If I want to throw something into my outfit that no one can no about, I can. I can wear black and pink argyle socks with tan and orange shoes. Sometimes I buy ridiculously colored socks that I'll never be able to wear with anything, just so I can wear them with something. And no one will know. No one ever has to know, because as long as your trousers cover your socks, no one is the wiser.

Just a release for that urge you get to have a secret sometimes.

I've never been disappointed NOT to have strep throat

...but I am right now. The quick test came back negative, and I'll get the overnight results tomorrow, but I don't hold out much hope for having strep throat. If only it were, they could cure me. But alas.

There's got to be a way to sit at home all day sleeping and watching tv, justifiably eating ice cream for dinner, AND getting sympathy without spending at least an hour or two per day lying on the floor crying. My mission is to find that thing, while not being a really broke bum. Any ideas?

Ah, man I'm so hot. Ech.

Today's menu:
2 pieces Sees' molasses chips
1 Lindt dark chocolate truffle ball
1 Bagel, cream cheese
1 Jamba juice
Some V8 splash. Mmm.

Also I'm now thinking of being an English major, for those of you who are keeping track. (Turns out, Accounting is really hard)