Monthly Archives: November 2004
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I have arrived in Jamaica. It took forever to get through customs. It is hot here, but not as overwhelming as I thought it would be. Air conditioning seems ubiquitous. The people at the airport are calling me a virgin because it is my first time at a Hedonism resort.
I got sucked into giving a tip. I guy took my luggage to help me to the bus. Then he wanted payment. He was sneaky with his demand for no coins. $5 for helping with luggage? I have only myself to blame.
The drive to the resort will take an hour and twenty minutes, so let’s see the sights.
As near as I can tell, this plane was mostly empty. So they started letting standbys on. Now half the Jamaican population of Toronto has decided to do the commute. I feel like a minority. Most are carrying expensive electronics. Not portable iPods but fully sized DVD players.
What bothers me is that even though I get here hours before, and paid full price, the standbys have nice window seats, and I’ve got the complete dregs. The light doesn’t work, the forced air is missing, I’ve got a neighbor who marinates in perfume, and the person in front of me doesn’t fully get the upright locked position. I guess I’m tired and cranky.
For my peace of mind, another standby who got on board was one of those caucasians who look like they want to be Taliban. You know, head scarf, poor looking, the pathetic attempt at a beard that only comes out as a wispy thing.
In-flight movie! Score! Wait, I’ve seen “The Bourne Supremacy”. The sound system is having problems. I might not even hear the movie.
I should have grabbed another breakfast.
Still waiting.
I read the instruction manual for my new camera, then pretended to sleep. I think I’m getting hungry.
There are lots of black people here. Well, more than I’m used to. Western Canadians don’t get a lot of access to Negroes. I’m going to be holing up in my resort, so who knows how many I’ll see.
I’m in Toronto now. I didn’t sleep much in the plane, only pretended, but I don’t feel that tired. It will probably kick in when I least want it. There is nothing to do in this airport. My flight isn’t until 10:30, so I still have a long wait. I’ve already eaten a small breakfast. There was food on the flight, but it fit airplane food stereotypes.
I’m trying to find a book, but the bookstores here are small. I don’t even know if it is out yet, but it would have been nicely traditional to have it. It’s the sequel to the great book I had last time I took a caribbean vacation, and it is supposed to come out this month. That said, if I spend time reading, something is seriously wrong with the vacation.
I’m debating spending any time in Toronto on the way back. There is a flight I could possibly catch. I couldn’t reserve it because it’s departing too close to my arrival time from another country. But if I did make it, then I wouldn’t have to expensively overnight here. I could instead spend Sunday recovering. There isn’t that much in Toronto that I want to see. Oh well, I’ll decide when I get back.
Now it’s either sleep or read for the next three hours.
Boy, that last entry looks cranky.
But I’ve tried to put that crushing episode out of my memory and I’m concentrating on my Jamaica trip. I’ve got high hopes for it, which is worrying. It surely can’t live up to expectations. Part of these expectations come from the “Don’t say ‘No'” policy I’m working with. I’m planning to finally imbibe alcohol. And it has taken on a mystical quality in my head. With this magic beverage I’ll loosen up, make friends easily, and have adoring women all over me.
Reality will probably having me throwing up all over myself.
I’m leaving in an hour.
Hope for the best, plan for the worst
Once in my life, I would like to have a date that I’m not ashamed of. I went to the coffee place and waited twenty minutes with no show from Whitney. I tried to phone her, but surprisingly (insert sarcasm) she didn’t answer. I left a message to try and give myself some dignity. (I meant 9:00 in the evening. Maybe you went to the wrong place.) There was a hope that when I got back home there would be a message for me. Nope. In the end, any self esteem I gained from Saturday has been ripped to shreds and stomped on.
This week has just been bad: I have gotten barely any sleep, because the loud dehumidifier has been working on the flood damage; I think I’m getting sick, in time for my vacation; I’m behind in my packing; George Bush won the election; This place is a mess. Based off of my current record, I’m expecting that something will screw up this vacation. (I’m sorry, we have no Mr. Allen on our list. Back to Canada with you.)
Something is wrong when you start envying the eunuchs. I’ve had no good experiences with women. So I’m a little depressed now. I’d cry myself to sleep tonight, but it is so dry in here, the tears would just evaporate. 🙂
This better be an awesome vacation, or I’m going to do something rash.
Dating update
Called Whitney again, apparently at a better time. So we’re getting together for coffee on Wednesday. It’s later in the evening because apparently she has school. I’m hoping she means University, because I really hope I’m not trying to pick up someone significantly younger than me. I’ve never gotten any sort of skill at telling people’s ages.
The pessimist inside of me (well, actually the one that dominates my existence) thinks she just gave me her phone number so she didn’t have to say no. That this entire experience is her just being polite. I guess I’ll find out on Wednesday and see if she even shows up.
The timing of this all isn’t great. I really should be getting ready for my vacation.
Okay, this is what has happened.
Apparently, during the construction of this place, a nail was driven through the pipes that form my infloor heating. It’s only now just rusted out. Hence the major leaking.
So in my living room there is now a big dehumidifier and a fan trying to dry everything out. Rather noisy, limiting enjoyment of the area.
Well this isn’t good
You may notice the time I’m making this entry. I’ve been called back home because the leakage in my below neighbour’s place is getting worse. The management company called me back to let them into my place. The carpet is very wet now, and may be spreading.
In other words, it’s not getting better.
There was no fungus involved. It was just some dried leaves that had probably fallen from a former plant. They think it is the in-floor heating system. I’ve given a spare set of keys to my below neighbour so he can let people in or out. I’m going back to work.
It is fortunate timing for an unfortunate event. With me going on vacation they have free reign to do whatever they want.