Evening!
The more eagle eyed amongst you might notice this blog's been looking a touch malnourished lately. It's been technical difficulties mostly. My laptop coped over about two or three weeks ago and I'd to send it away to get the fans replaced. Then, when I got it back, the cable that connected my phone to my laptop was in the other room or something. And I was tired. The next day I was drunk. Then the Avengers was one. Okay, it wasn't exclusively technical difficulties.
But sur' anyway, let's get started. Back on March 22nd I took a trip across to America. My brother's been there since June of last year. He came home for my sister's wedding in October so I figured it'd be nice to return the favour. So I pulled on my socks, loaded up my MP3 player with EXCELLENT TRAVELING MUSIC, left my MP3 player with EXCELLENT TRAVELING MUSIC charging beside my bed and tipped off towards Edinburgh Airport with an MP3 player with EXCELLENT TRAVELING MUSIC back home, charging away. It charged for two weeks, you could run a fucking small town off it.
Here we go.
Oh no, wait, that's Heathrow. I've no pictures of Edinburgh Airport. Do you? That's great. Well done, you.
I've no huge issues with air travel. The flight itself, all eleven hours of it, was pretty smooth. Food was okay. And the girl beside me asked to be moved to another seat (her telly wasn't working, I smelled fantastic by the way.) The only problem was the eleven hours side of things. A little known fact about me is that I cannot sleep A WINK when I'm moving. Buses, trains, boats and planes, every hour, every MINUTE I've spent on one I've spent awake. Airlines, obviously, take this into account. They provide you with entertainment. I remember ten years ago having the time of my life on a Virgin flight playing F-Zero with a SNES controller. Excellent. Not so much with British Airways. They've films, yeah, but it's usually stuff that's there to please your average family. TinTin and Journey 2. Two films about penguins. Bah. And they're shown on a screen that makes you think your head's been bubble wrapped. So I stared at this for what felt like a lifetime:
(Look closely and you'll see I flew across a town called Aberdeen in the Midwest somewhere.)
Though it felt slightly less like a lifetime with the help of this:
Anyway, I got off the plane at about 7.00 in Los Angeles and phoned the folks. Y'see, us Finegans had a plan. My parents had arrived in the US five or six days earlier. They did San Francisco, then Vegas and then, about an hour before me, they flew into LAX. So I met 'em and retired to the hotel. Oh, whisht, I've just seen that photo I took of the soap. Let's take a wee detour for a second.
The most interesting thing about the hotel, besides my parents (who'd lots of stories about Vegas, San Fran and Monaghan), was the soap.Yes, the soap. Here, have a look:
"No added parabens or phtalates."
Could just be me, but I've no idea in the slightest what a paraben or phtalate is.I'm happy not knowing. And these pricks making soap (or soap packaging) have now given me two more things to worry about. MSG, saturated fat, skynet, gypsies and now I've to avoid parabens and phthalates.
They could've wrote "Now with extra parabens and phtalates" and I would've went to bed happy, knowing my skins was now all parabenny.
Anyway, not a big deal. The next day we woke up, met my brother and hit the road. This was going to be in part one (this part), but an unplanned rant about soap marketing has made me a bit tired. Not enough parabens in my diet, I'm guessing. You'll get part two when I'm good and ready.
(Oh, the cold face reference in the title is down to the fact that I shaved my beard on day one of the trip. You can see my razor above. I took regular photos of my beard as it came back but I'm not sure it's blog material. I might whack 'em all together when I've the whole trip written out.)
The more eagle eyed amongst you might notice this blog's been looking a touch malnourished lately. It's been technical difficulties mostly. My laptop coped over about two or three weeks ago and I'd to send it away to get the fans replaced. Then, when I got it back, the cable that connected my phone to my laptop was in the other room or something. And I was tired. The next day I was drunk. Then the Avengers was one. Okay, it wasn't exclusively technical difficulties.
But sur' anyway, let's get started. Back on March 22nd I took a trip across to America. My brother's been there since June of last year. He came home for my sister's wedding in October so I figured it'd be nice to return the favour. So I pulled on my socks, loaded up my MP3 player with EXCELLENT TRAVELING MUSIC, left my MP3 player with EXCELLENT TRAVELING MUSIC charging beside my bed and tipped off towards Edinburgh Airport with an MP3 player with EXCELLENT TRAVELING MUSIC back home, charging away. It charged for two weeks, you could run a fucking small town off it.
Here we go.
Oh no, wait, that's Heathrow. I've no pictures of Edinburgh Airport. Do you? That's great. Well done, you.
I've no huge issues with air travel. The flight itself, all eleven hours of it, was pretty smooth. Food was okay. And the girl beside me asked to be moved to another seat (her telly wasn't working, I smelled fantastic by the way.) The only problem was the eleven hours side of things. A little known fact about me is that I cannot sleep A WINK when I'm moving. Buses, trains, boats and planes, every hour, every MINUTE I've spent on one I've spent awake. Airlines, obviously, take this into account. They provide you with entertainment. I remember ten years ago having the time of my life on a Virgin flight playing F-Zero with a SNES controller. Excellent. Not so much with British Airways. They've films, yeah, but it's usually stuff that's there to please your average family. TinTin and Journey 2. Two films about penguins. Bah. And they're shown on a screen that makes you think your head's been bubble wrapped. So I stared at this for what felt like a lifetime:
Though it felt slightly less like a lifetime with the help of this:
Anyway, I got off the plane at about 7.00 in Los Angeles and phoned the folks. Y'see, us Finegans had a plan. My parents had arrived in the US five or six days earlier. They did San Francisco, then Vegas and then, about an hour before me, they flew into LAX. So I met 'em and retired to the hotel. Oh, whisht, I've just seen that photo I took of the soap. Let's take a wee detour for a second.
The most interesting thing about the hotel, besides my parents (who'd lots of stories about Vegas, San Fran and Monaghan), was the soap.Yes, the soap. Here, have a look:
Could just be me, but I've no idea in the slightest what a paraben or phtalate is.I'm happy not knowing. And these pricks making soap (or soap packaging) have now given me two more things to worry about. MSG, saturated fat, skynet, gypsies and now I've to avoid parabens and phthalates.
They could've wrote "Now with extra parabens and phtalates" and I would've went to bed happy, knowing my skins was now all parabenny.
Anyway, not a big deal. The next day we woke up, met my brother and hit the road. This was going to be in part one (this part), but an unplanned rant about soap marketing has made me a bit tired. Not enough parabens in my diet, I'm guessing. You'll get part two when I'm good and ready.
(Oh, the cold face reference in the title is down to the fact that I shaved my beard on day one of the trip. You can see my razor above. I took regular photos of my beard as it came back but I'm not sure it's blog material. I might whack 'em all together when I've the whole trip written out.)
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