Airplanes

My suspicions lie with the pressurised cabins, the high altitude, the overly nice cabin crew and my appetite for aeroplane food. Whether it is specifically, or a combination of the afore mentioned, there's something about long haul flights that causes my penis to detach and become replaced with a massive vagina. It's only a theory, but the more I fly, the more I subscribe to the idea that airlines are pumping some kind of hormone-laced sedative into the cabins. My perceived estrogen levels sky rocket and I'm reduced to what can only be described as a Spider Woman experiencing her periods (I can only imagine). Spider senses tingle!

There's something about flying that makes me react to the following scenarios in the same manner. A young infant with no desire to sleep but to make as much racket as humanly possible. An elderly couple sitting together holding hands on take off. Or even the simple smile of a stewardess. It makes me smile and think. So with this hypothesis, I decided to test this out. I sat through the following: How I Met Your Mother, Date Night and She's Out of My League just to see how I would react to each. Sure enough, each and every one managed to make me tear up; much to my own resistance. The conjecture being, that two of the three were Rom-Coms, but How I Met Your Mother? C'mon now!

The sample space is hardly warranted and you could easily argue that this is far from conclusive. It could have benefited with perhaps a different genre of movie. Unfortunately, I don't have the attention span or the willingness to concentrate on anything more than a comedy. Especially when an action or thriller would only be dealt an injustice on the 6 inch entertainment unit. Perhaps it's a coincidence - business trips, my initial flight out from Sydney, my flight to Singapore, my flight back to London. One thing for sure, I can honestly say I've welled up at some point in time to something insignificant and probably less stimulating on the ground.

It must be noted, this is not a symptom exhibited by short flights through Europe. The early morning starts, the group of familiar faces and the excitement of a new country coupled with the sheer fatigue of traveling weekends overwhelms all emotions. Invariably, it is the trips between home, family and old friends. Perhaps it's not the actual flight, but the transient nature of flying from point A to Point B. Where at some point there is an emotional attachment to the destination. It reminds us of who we will see, or alternatively, who we are leaving behind.

"Can we pretend that air planes in the night sky, are like shooting stars, I could really use a wish right now." - Hayley Williams

Long weekend: Flame on!

Departing London with the 4 day weather forecast of:



To hopefully, something a little toastier:



Screen shots courtesy of BBC Weather (source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/weather/).

Wee!

Continuing with the theme of things to do in London, I finally decided to register with an NHS doctor. First things first, I need to fill this cup with urine. This is not as easy as it sounds.

I tried to get a photo of the finished result, but somebody had walked into the bathroom and I didn't want to look like a weirdo. The good news, there's no sign of diabetes or kidney failure (yet).

Is that it?

After 2 and a half years, I've decided to go a head and complete my London bucket list. First thing's first, Green Park, Buckingham Palace and the traditional Changing of Guard.

This also marks two years of working in London.

Same, same but different

The artificial glow emanating from the TV blankets the front of my face. Slouched, I reach for another Mint Slice. Crunch. The biscuit breaks, crumbs falling from my mouth onto my belly. Blindly my left hand pats the couch like the Adam family's Thing. The movements can best be described as haphazard as I desperately search for the remote. My eyes fixed on the TV. Crunch. Still my hand searches, it passes a half eaten packet of Oreos, through a litter of Caramello Koala wrappers before my fingers jam unexpectedly into the missing remote control. Crunch. I flick through the channels. Friends, Big Bang Theory, Holly Oaks. I feel an itch on my toe, but the laze overwhelms me. I sit, with an itchy toe, and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm a slob, at least I feel like a slob. Crunch.

Ok, perhaps that was somewhat melodramatic. It's been an entire 3 weeks free of physical activity. Physically induced elevated heart rates are but a distant memory although the mere act of climbing three steps leaves me short of breathe. The last three weeks have been spent eating out, I must have consumed 90% of all Chinese dishes known to man. It's time to break this unhealthy lifestyle. First thing's first, it's time to re-vamp the diet.

I am a Weetbix kid and have been consuming this cereal since I was just that, a kid. I still remember the day Brett Lee came out and advertised the Australian Public with his 7 Weetbix a day. "How many do you do?" he queried. I accepted this has a challenge and immediately set out to beat him. 10 Weetbix in one sitting is still my record, eaten with almost 1 litre of milk and out of a punch bowl. I remember, I skipped lunch that day and only regained my apetite come late afternoon. That's besides the point, suffice to say, Weetbix has been a staple breakfast fixture in my life for the best part of 20 years. That was until I got to the UK. You see, the English don't have Weetbix, they have something similiar. Weet-a-bix. Crazy, I know!

To the untrained eye, it's the same thing. However, you come to realise that Weetabix is nothing but an inferior imitation of Weetbix.

The consistency and texture in milk is different, the taste is different, it's not the same!

If only Brett Lee would challenge me to eat Weetabix. Currently reading: The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay