But lets not linger on the hang-overs from my childhood.
I'm sitting on my brothers enormous couch - it is so big that sitting with my back up against the actual back of the couch means that just my feet peek over the end of the seat. I am like a little kid again. I'm glad it's so large as I'm sleeping on it tonight.
I got in this morning after a fairly lengthy 26 hours getting here. WHY is Australia so far away and full of minerals. I DON'T understand. Anyway it's best not to dwell on what can't be changed. Here are my musings from the last day or so.
There are so many flights that leave from Bangkok airport that you aren’t allowed into the gate lounge until an appointed time. There are simply too many flights and too many people. I am sitting on a very comfortable metal chair in a vast corridor. I don’t think that I can exaggerate enough to convey how large this corridor is, or how big the airport is. I am leaving from Gate D6 and even finding it was arduous.
|the view from D6|
It was lucky that it took a while though as I have a while. I have already flown 9 hours and watched 4 films and now I am waiting three hours in Bangkok to catch a flight at 11.15pm. Which is 2.15am for me. I haven’t yet begun to feel worse for wear, but I expect that to kick in about an hour into the Zurich leg of the trip. Eight hours to Zurich and then an hour there and then an hour to Berlin and then.. who knows. Collapse?
I am going to Berlin though and I don’t have a five year old with me. Frankly this would be nightmarish with a child in tow. Gabe is not the voice of reason and generally doesn’t react well to being trapped in a small space for longer than three hours. That’s the most I’ve done with him on the plane. So whenever I wish that I was down in the gate lounge on one of those soft looking white seats and not up here looking at the lounge I enjoy a few moments of silence – a chance to suffer on my own and not with a child too. It makes things feel nicer.
Rhonda finished. Did I mention that? Did I mention that I wrote a play and it is called Rhonda is in Therapy and that it had a season and now it’s over? To quote my publicist but one week later “It feels like a lifetime ago”. And it was very good folks, we had very good reviews, great houses and wonderful audience feedback. Ben Grant who played Lief said that it was a “crowd pleaser” which seems odd given the subject matter and that people came out occasionally sobbing. But it did resonate, this I was glad of. After the years, months, weeks and then days of hard work it was strange to be on the other side, It’s a lot like making an enormous jump over a canyon and then looking back and not quite believing that you made it. But feeling grateful that you did. It’s a good play, I’m proud of it and also the actors and director and crew that worked on it. They deserved a standing ovation – oh wait they got one.... on the last night.
And then it was done and then we put the finishing touches on the Mad Women Monologues: to whit – we selected the shortlist, had the director’s night and then had the auditions. Now we are just waiting on the last confirmation of actors and then it’s set. And then the next part comes.. the marketing. And I’m going on holiday. More precisely I am going to Berlin to see my brother, who came up with this madcap idea and then to San Diego to see the people that I work with and also like a decent amount. I’ll see a few other sundry lovely folk whilst in LA too. That is all very exciting.
But not this bit. Not the actual flying. When did I stop loving flying? Probably round 20. Then I tolerated it for another 10 years and then I actively disliked it for about 4, and then I was scared of it for about 5 and now I am aggressively diffident. I don’t like being stuck next to people, and I don’t enjoy takeoff. I don’t like my backside being sore and I hate not being able to sleep. I am hoping that only wacky rich people go to Zurich at 11pm on a Weds night and that I will have a row to myself. To lie down. And sleep. Also I have melatonin with me. A hormone. For sleeping. It regulates something, or deregulates it... God, I don’t know, look it up!
So far it’s me and about 50 of the wacky rich folk I was mentioning. I don’t want there to be too many more or we aren’t all going to have our own rows. As it turns out if my thoughtful travel agent had booked me at the back of the plane I would have had a row to myself, as it was I was in a two seat next to a nice but flatulent Thai lady. So that was that. It could have been better.
Zurich airport is a model of efficiency – I knew exactly where I was going as the information on my little telly had told me which flights were leaving next and which gate and how I could get there. Trust the Swiss, always so thoughtfully prescient. And tall.
|The exceptionally lovely view from the window of the aeroplane - over Switzerland,|
My only real beef with Zurich is that they charged me 4.20 twice for one bottle of water. And it was average water. I spent a fairly standard night trying to sleep in an airplane chair, toss, turn, wriggle. Move from one buttock to the other, prop head on blow up neck cushion, jam a second cushion under that. Lean slightly on it. Fall asleep. Rinse and repeat about 40 times. Then watch “What to Expect When you are Expecting”. I was expecting a laugh, not to be.
|Jade's apartment building|
But Jadey picked me up at the airport and now I’m on his enormous couch. We walked across a bit of Berlin and will do it again tomorrow!
I know this isn’t strictly about writing. I will post soon about more specific writing goings on. The further travails of projection mapping and what to expect when you aren’t expecting. :)