Category: Diary (Page 12 of 38)

I wish I was in Wellington

The MUTTONBIRDS

I guess it is given that Muttonbirds songs will be providing the soundtrack.

I’m on the Quantas flight down to Wellington as I write this. Despite many people commenting, “Quantas? They don’t fly around New Zealand,” it seems that yes, they do, and there’s even a sign at the airport saying “Turn Right for the Quantas Terminal”. I figure they used to be Ansett because it’s what I used to know as the Ansett Terminal. Last time I was *there* was when I saw Grandma of as she flew down to Christchurch to see Uncle Kelvin.

Cornerstone had a morning tea thing this morning, and Sue, Dave, and Paula all showed up to see me. Sue is perky as ever; Dave is looking good; and Paula is just the same. No almond croissants from the bakery, but date scones are a good substitute. We sat around and talked shop for an hour or so. Trudy showed up as well!

I reserved maybe 30 minutes to talk to Steve about VFP COM objects and ASP pages – it turns out his current project is very similar to some stuff Lisa and I did recently and I wanted to talk over some of the issues with him, make sure he was making good decisions, etc. (I guess you can’t take the Development Manager out of the Boy.)

Vinessa and Trudy wanted to take me out to lunch before taking me to the airport. I kind of insisted we go to Zarbo’s Delicatessen in Newmarket, which is very much on the way to the airport – except I once again forgot how to get there. There are some one-way streets that make it a little tricky.

Hey, we’re flying over Mt Taranaki and Egmont National Park. I thought at first that it was directly under the plane because I couldn’t see the peak at all, but I just took another look and it’s quite visible, just much further away on the left than I thought.

There’s a good chance that Mum and Dad are going to meet me at the airport, even though I’ve arranged to pick up a rental car. We’ll see if they’re there!

Oops – got to turn off the laptop now, the announcement just came over the intercom.

Later: Mum and Dad did come and meet me at the airport. Dad drove back by himself while I collected the rental car with Mum. It’s a huge Mitsubishi wagon. I’m a bit nervous driving it but it’s got some omph to it so there are compensations.

Today’s my day in town with Walter’s car. First thing after morning coffee I drive down to Browns Bay to visit the local branch of the ASB Bank, where we have an account. I have a very old EFTPOS card – so old that 1) I didn’t even know I had it, Lisa had to find it for me and wave it at me before I believe her that it existed – and 2) I didn’t know the PIN number. So the idea was to check in with the Bank and see what they could do. It turned out that they could do a lot: If I showed photo ID, they’d replace the card with a shiny new one and let me put in a new PIN – so I did.

I tested it in the automatic tellers in the foyer and yes, it worked – delivering to me a shiny new $20 bill that looked kind of different from the ones I had in my wallet – and I’m referring to the NZ ones here, not the US bills…

On the way back to the car I passed the Browns Bay Pet Shop. “Oh! Kittens!” I exclaimed as I noticed the little furry forms running around in the front window. I stopped for a while and admired them, before tearing myself away and back to the car parked round the back of the building.

I was meaning to go and walk on the beach for a minute or two but I forgot.

On the way out of Browns Bay I stopped at the Mobil Petrol Station, the usual one we used regularly to fill our car up at. I had a strange kind of pump that you couldn’t feed your EFTPOS card into. I was quite non-plussed. What was one expected to do? I went in and checked with the clerk behind the desk. “How does this work? Where do I insert the card?”

The clerk laughed and said that Browns Bay was behind the times, and this station had never had pay-at-the-pump systems. What you do is, press “Fill”, select the fuel type, and fill up. Then come inside to pay.

I had no memory of ever doing this before. Yet I must have done, because I used to fill the car up at this station all the time. This was so parallel-universey.

I reminded myself (as I filled up the tank) that this was yet another lesson that my memory simply can not be trusted.

I drove back to Walter & Becky’s house (with the fuel tank indicator ominously reading “E”) and collected Walter and dropped him off at CSL. (It turns out the car petrol indicator says “E” until it’s half empty, at which point it indicates “half empty”.) Then it was off on the motorway heading South to walk around Dominion Road, Mt Eden, and some of my old stomping grounds.

One Tree Hill apparently no longer has a tree on it. It took me a while to notice. I had the camera with me but I never thought of taking a picture of it. Do they call it “No Tree Hill” now?

I sat in Potters Park and enjoyed the lush green grass and big old oak trees.

Dominion Road is bending, under it’s own weight
Shining like a strip cut from a sheet metal plate, ’cause it’s been raining

The MUTTONBIRDS, “DOMINION ROAD”

I walked up and down Dominion Road with Muttonbird songs running through my head. It seemed like every street had memories attached. X lived down that street; that was the road I turned down when I was cycling to see Y; that corner over there was where we had that party; etc. Now the memories are vague and uncertain, and I don’t even remember the people’s names anymore. Just faces, removed from labels and times.

I sat in a cyber-cafe and wrote to Lisa. Cheap at $2/hour. It seemed like there was a cyber-cafe on every block, any flavor you want. I saw two “Indian Restaurant & Cyber Cafe”. At least one “Chinese Takeaway and Internet Access”. And other places were just cyber cafes, without additional condiments.

I had a lengthy lunch (actually a breakfast) at a cafe called “Zest” just down the road from the old Charley Greys picture theatre. It’s now called the “Capitol” and was showing Bollywood movies.

There was a cooking/book store with a sign outside that read, “There is no such thing as a little garlic.”

Then I call in at ArtRageous for my pre-arranged appointment with Paul Peachey.

I have my design all worked out and he does a great job.

*

I drove back into town to meet up with Walter and Matt at Zintel. Zintel were expecting me, and told me to go on upstairs to join them. Matt was heads-down debugging something, but introduced me to Sue S, of whom I’ve heard him mention before. Walter was furiously active in another corner of the office, something to do with an email server or something. Very manic. “Is he always like this?” I asked Sue.

“Yes. As the Warren Zevon song goes, he’s an “excitable boy,” replies Sue.

Walter was ready to leave, so we left Matt to his debugging and took a 15 minute walk over to Queen Street to check out Marbecks Records and pop in to the Bast leather shop in the arcade. I was actually wearing the Jacket we bought from the store 4 years ago (just before leaving the country – I got to pick up the jacket from Duty Free, if I recall correctly). I tell them how great the Jacket is. “The leather is still softening up,” the woman said, copping a feel.

Walter and I talk and walk, back to the car, and drive into the traffic on the harbour bridge. The sun is setting, and at every other curve the traffic slows as the road turns towards the West.

Now we’re back home and I’m cleaning up and packing my knapsack for a visit out with Matt. I’m going out to his place for dinner to see the family, but Matt is still at Zintel in town. I can’t remember how to get to Matt’s house out in the Waitakeres. Lisa and I discovered a route we called the “North West Passage” once but I’ve completely forgotten the middle part. Doesn’t anything stick?

I give Matt a call and we arrange to meet halfway outside Soljans Winery on State Highway 16.

No sooner had I arrived at Soljans, stopped the car on the gravel, and switched the lights off, when Matt (arriving by a different route) pulled up in front and flashed his lights. Perfect timing considering he left from Zintel in the city and I from the North Shore – completely different routes!

Following Matt on the second part of the route, it all slowly comes back to me. I would definitely have been lost without Matt to follow.

Dinner with the Peirses was great, although we all missed Lisa…

Harry is really special. His voice is deepening. He’s really hilarious. He’s totally a fanatic about Lord of the Rings and he has a real Broadsword movie prop. He has a pet rat named “Mischief”.

Harry and George were poking each other on the couch and giggling and wailing and finally Matt had enough and grabbed George and sort of restrained him with his hand over his mouth, and George sort of farted into Matt’s hand for 5 minutes until Matt complained. “Aw George you’ve made my hand all soggy now.”

Harry, in perfect Elrond accent, intoned “The Soggy Hand of Mordor,” while gesturing mythically.

I was supposed to go in to Cornerstone with Walter this morning, but instead we went shopping for a frozen chicken. Also, I was interested in going shoe shopping because I’d only brought one pair of shoes and I didn’t want to wear them out with the kind of treatment they were getting.

I ended up getting the exact same kind of shoe that Walter was wearing, and had bought sometime earlier. LYNX is the brand, kind of hybrid walking/sandshoe. Walter would have bought another identical pair, but instead of fighting over the last size 10 pair in the shop, he suggested putting another pair on order for later. So I have some new shoes, sort of trainer/walker kind of things.

So far everyone who has taken cash from me has commented on the “old bank notes”. Some even express dubiousness over whether they are still legal tender! These were relatively new four years ago. I guess they redesigned them to be harder to counterfeit. Certainly all the notes I’ve been given back since I arrived have been different, with little transparent plastic windows in them.

Now I’m at the Cornerstone office, getting online to check mail and catch up on WonkaTech emails too. I’m getting a terrible sore throat – it’s probably the same thing that Becky, Ryan, and Zoe have got.

Later: Dinner was great. No more jokes about Walter’s cooking. I did insist on more garlic in the chicken though. Early to bed for me, because the way my throat is acting up I really think I’m going to be needing the sleep.

The plane touched done on time, a very gentle landing. I tried to get out ahead of The Man With The Horrible Smell but end up in the exit line just in front of him. I pity the people behind me, who must have been sitting just in front of him.

It’s 4:30 am, everything was shut in the duty free corridor….

Let it be noted: The Customs/Passport man did *not* say, “Welcome Home”.  I collected my bags and got through Customs without any trouble at all, even the little drug-sniffing beagle didn’t bother to sniff my luggage.

Walter and Zoe showed up almost immediately after I sat down with my bags. It’s nice to see them. Walter looks good; trim but not too thin.

It was wet and raining outside. Tragic. Oh, the humidity.

Walter drove us back to the North Shore, taking odd turns mostly by mistake. We get to drive down K’ Road, through Ponsonby, Newmarket, old haunts. Pity it was dark and wet outside, because I couldn’t enjoy it, and Zoe got a little carsick on the way.

We sneaked into the house and I plead to go straight to bed and maybe catch a little z’s before the rest of the house wakes up.

*

I’ve just spent about 2 hours helping Walter run Cat5 network cable around the basement. He really needs a crimping tool, and if things work out I’ll try and get him one tomorrow. (Ryan “helped” also. Mostly by climbing on the ladder to “stablise” it.)

What happened earlier this morning: I didn’t manage to catch any sleep but I made a valiant effort. I think I heard a cat eating kibble at 7:00am. I got up at 8:00 after not sleeping at all, and poked my head around the door of the kitchen. Ryan ran away. Zoe sat in her high-chair covering her face with a bib. Hilarity ensued.

Last night Walter’s car – the one I was hoping to borrow tomorrow – started showing a warning light indicating that the battery wasn’t being charged. So after breakfast, we drove past Cornerstone’s new digs to the nearby mechanics for them to take a look at it. They said they’d call back in about an hour and let him know what they found.

So, we spent the morning at CSL. Vinessa was there – she looks happy. Matt was there – he looks just the same, maybe just a little hairier and greyer around the temples.

CSL have a little balcony out the back of the office that looks over some green area, with Pukekos stalking around (They’re dark blue with black heads and red beaks.) I took some pictures.

Then Steve showed up. I had to rack my brains before I remembered him, sorry Steve. It took only a moment of talking to him and it all came back, and now I can’t think why I would have had a problem…

After that I drank Cornerstone coffee and got online to check email.  CSL’s new offices are great. Basically a rectangle shaped upstairs area, with a balcony out back, filled with half-cubicles nestled together around shelves.

The car mechanic called back and said it was the alternator, and they’d maybe have it ready around 4:30.

Around lunchtime we ran next door in the torrential downpour to get some lunch. The “next door” place was a typical industrial park cafe/bakery, with – PIES! Ah…. Ok. When the others had me upstairs talking about what I missed about NZ I could only admit to missing the people – nothing else really, not the climate or the food or anything. But I forgot to mention the pies. (Strangely it only takes one pie to cure this feeling. I guess I didn’t miss them that much!)

Becky picked us up from CSL, then we dropped her off at Play Center. I got some photos of Ryan jumping around. I swear he looks just like his father at that age.

Walter has just come in to inform me that there’s a pot of coffee ready in the kitchen. He’s making pasta dough (from scratch!) for lasagne. I’m impressed. Walter is singing, “Pasta Machine! pasta machine” in a funny accent in the kitchen.

Tonight we’re going to cousin Stuart & Tasha’s for a pot luck dinner – I guess that’s what the lasagne is for – and to meet up again with much of the Ellis clan, including cousin Mathew who is in Auckland.

Stuart & Tasha’s house is beautiful.

It’s *mumble* o’clock, and we’re somewhere over the Pacific ocean. The flight is not crowded at all. I have a row of seats to myself! I fully intend to stretch out over all three seats later on. I’ll figure out some way to keep my seat-belt on…

Even if I didn’t have the luxury of the extra seats, I’d be pretty comfortable. I don’t remember what the seat spacing was like on the previous trans-Pacific flight I took, but I *think* these are further apart than I remember.

I heard a wide range of accents in the boarding area, some familiar, some not. Many interesting-looking people.

I was planning to write more than this, but I’m kind of tired. I’ve figured out my watch and it is actually 10:10pm PST and I guess that’s my bedtime, although somewhere during this flight I get to add an extra five hours.

Air New Zealand in-flight food rating:
   Dinner: 9 out of 10 (Casserole, yum)
   After-dinner coffee: -1 (it’s dish-water)

I’ve just finished reading the second of three Analog Sci-Fi magazines, and set my watch to local time – which makes it 3:28 am on Monday 12 May. I’m not going to change the time on my laptop, though, and it – like me – actually feels like it is 8:28 am on Sunday.

I guess we’re about an hour out from landing. (Actually, the video display has just finished a movie and is reporting statistics, include time to arrival: 58min. Hah.)

Speaking of movies, according to the schedule in the magazine, one of them should have been “About Schmidt” which I would have made an effort not to sleep through. However, instead, I think we got others that I can’t even remember now.

I used the three pillows and rugs from all three seats in my row to make quite the most comfortable bed I’ve ever had on an aeroplane – which isn’t saying much, I know. But despite that, I ended up with a series of short naps filled with bizzare dreams. It’s also freezing.

Breakfast was, eh, 5 out of 10. I would have liked some coffee, but as you read previously, they don’t really have any on this flight.

I’m sitting against a wall in Terminal 2 in LAX. It’s 5:51pm, and my flight out across the Pacific doesn’t leave until 8:45pm, so I’ve hunted down a power point and I’m huddled down on the floor with my laptop in the lee of a trash can.

True to form, I didn’t get here without a minor upset…. but I’m getting ahead of myself.

When I woke up this morning I still hadn’t packed, although I had a good idea what clothes I wanted to take, and where the presents were going to be stored, and before breakfast I was laying everything out on the bed, figuring out how to stow it all in the most compact fashion. Even though I’ll be away for two weeks, I decided up front that I should be able to pack everything in a regular sized bag acceptable as carry-on. Even though I was planning to put it in as checked baggage for this trip, on later flights I wanted to have the choice of carry-on, if possible.

It all fit. I’m not taking a spare pair of shoes. If something happens, I’ll buy a pair in New Zealand.

During breakfast I made sure my current email files were transferred to Michiba, my laptop (on which I am writing) and ensured that my web diary software – CityDesk – was operational and ship-shape.

I was supposed to give the cats their anti-flea dose this morning but I completely forgot. I even let Kami out the front door, thus removing any possibility of getting that chore done before we had to leave.

We drove to the airport together way ahead of time, planning to have lunch together before I went through security, but there must have been an accident in the 215 tunnel because just before we go into the tunnel under the runway we were narrowed down to one lane and we sat there in a minor traffic jam, wondering if we would have time for lunch.

As it turned out, it was fine – it *was* an accident, but the delay wasn’t long and we parked at 1:00pm with plenty of time to check in, have lunch, before I had to be at the gate by 3:47.

The line at the check-in desks looked forboding but it was a quick check-in, because periodically they would call out the next urgent flight and a bunch of people would leave the queue and get in a separate, priority line.

They no longer take checked-in baggage behind the counter on a conveyor belt. Instead, you take the bags yourself over to an X-ray/Search station where, presumably, they X-ray and search your bags before sending them on their way. I guess there isn’t room for the equipment behind the check-in counters.

We had lunch at Don Alesandro’s upstairs, which was very pleasant. I had a strong craving for Nachos but we agreed that it wasn’t to be recommended. I chose something else. A Taco Ensalada,  No beans.

Eventually I had to leave Lisa behind and go through the security check and on to my gate. Wah!

Security was not crowded at all. They asked that I take my laptop out of its bag and place it in a separate grey tray, along with my jacket, shoes, keys, watch…

I walked through the metal detector feeling very naked. Everyone seems to know how ineffective this rigamarole is – I could have had ceramic knives taped to my thighs, for example – but we still do it. Oh well.

The dumb part was collecting my laptop, bag, shoes, keys, watch, jacket from the rear end of the X-ray machine and trying not to drop something as I hobbled over to a very distant chair to reassemble myself.

The flight to LAX was hot, and there was almost no airconditioning. It was also very turbulent at the beginning, and I was regretting those tacos. I didn’t throw up, but my normally cast-iron stomach was complaining.

The plane arrived at Terminal 7. I had a slip of paper from the checkout clerk that said that in order to get to my connecting flight at Terminal 2, I would need to exit the terminal to the street and take a courtesy shuttle bus to Terminal 2. Instead, I accidently took a courtesy shuttle bus to the airport Car Park (Lot C) instead. It even said “Lot C” on the destination panel, but I only saw “Courtesy Shuttle Bus”.

I was not the only person to have done this. (It seems that you’re either on the bus, or off the bus, or in my case, on the wrong bus.)

Luckily it was only a matter of changing buses at the car park depot and travelling back to the airport, a matter of only 10 minutes lost. (It filled me with confidence for the rest of the journey – Not.)

I had to go through another security check before I could get to the gates at Terminal 2, and this time they asked that I take my belt off as well!  Slippers and elastic pants next time.

Argh, I hate travelling without Lisa. I miss her terribly. Even though it is wonderfully cool in the air-conditioning of the airport terminal, the humidity in LA is killing me  – I’m sweating all over the laptop keys.

Time to stop writing – looks like they’ll be calling the flight soon.

Lisa was busy working on a WonkaTech project, so I took the opportunity to take a drive in the gorgeous Spring weather and call in to a local Wolf Camera Store and buy a new one – camera that is.

It’s a model I’ve had my eye on for a while now – a Fuji FinePix S602Z. Check it out here:
http://www.steves-digicams.com/2002_reviews/fuji_s602z.html .

On the way back to the car I noticed our car had a flat tyre! Darn it. I drove carefully up Rancho to the closest-to-home Discount Tyres location (where we purchased the tyres, in fact) and they fixed the flat tyre for free, in that way that they do. It’s great, so long as you don’t mind waiting a little while if they’re busy.

I had my laptop with me, so I did some work in the waiting room while they worked.

Then on the way home, I got a haircut.

Friday – our usual day not commuting down the other end of the valley to WonkaTech.

Lisa had previously arranged for all our annual service visits to happen today: The TV, Exercycle, Fridge, Dryer, and Airconditioning.

They didn’t all arrive at once, but within a period of about 3 hours they had all been and given our appliances the once-over and declared them all to be in good health.

After the last one had departed, we were going to go and post some packages at the new Post Office that had just opened on Jones Blvd, a couple of blocks away from our house. We’d received a card in the mail announcing that it was opening.

We were in the car, ready to back out of the garage, when Lisa looked at the card and said, “We’re complete idiots! The small print on the card says it doesn’t actually open until next week!”

Which meant that our nearest Post Office was actually still a long way away on Tenaya Blvd, and we didn’t feel like driving all that way.

“Why the heck didn’t they send the card so that it’d arrive when the Post Office was actually open?” I griped. “Oh well, I guess they can’t predict how long it takes for things to get through the mail…”

“Dear,” replied Lisa, “They *are* the Post Office…”

Our futon mattress hasn’t seemed as comfortable as usual lately. Both Lisa and I agreed that it was enough with the stiffness and uncomfortable sleeping: it was time for a change.

After some research, Lisa suggested trying a mattress topper, something that you can strap over an underperforming mattress to make it more comfortable – rather than replacing the whole thing. One brand in particular caught our fancy: one made with isotonic foam, apparently designed for NASA G-force couches, which conforms to the body and provides even support, eliminating pressure points etc etc.

The other day it arrived, and we followed the instructions, unfolding it and laying it out on the spare bed, letting it regain its natural shape.

It felt exactly like pizza dough.

A couple of days later – this evening – we remade our bed, installing our new super-science layer over our tired, retired futon.

Result: Extreme comfort! It’s the closest I’m ever going to be to being an astronaut, anyway.

Friday Night! After a short day at work we again meet Randy at his room at the Luxor, this time to talk shop and to meet up with some more old friends from Microsoft: Yag, Beth, and a new guy, Richard.

Afterwards we all go out to dinner at Nobu at the Hard Rock Hotel.

Eating at Nobu gave me flashbacks to the movie “American Psycho”. Everyone there (except us) were physically beautiful or exotic or otherwise very interesting-looking. I was expecting to have to compare business cards and to come up wanting.

The decor was pretty cool, actually, but marred somewhat by the dim lighting and the noise! Everyone was yelling, it seemed, and there was no way to have a conversation. I couldn’t hear the waiterbot unless he was bending down to talk in my ear. I think his name was Kurt. All the waiters were sharply dressed in black slacks and black t-shirts. They were also buff and pretty.

The food, however, was rather excellent. Nobu is kind of Japanese fusion, neo-sushi or something. There were some very unique tastes and combinations, brought to the table family style in successive waves. To accompany this we had some elitist unfiltered saki which tasted like fermented milk (but in a good way).

It didn’t quite make up for the total weirdness of the (once in a lifetime, I suspect) experience. I won’t forget that dinner for a while.

The other guys in our party dredged up some vestiges of teenage-level energy and went clubbing. Lisa and I went home.