Yesterday I got on a plane to go to London and start a much needed vacation. The plan was to fly Iceland Air to Reykjavik, have a 1 hour layover, and then head to Heathrow. An hour before we were supposed to land, it was announced that we were instead being diverted to Akureyri, Iceland.
First of all, let me tell you about Akureyri, or as my wife keeps calling i,t “Atreyu” (both because it sounds a little like “Atreyu” and because the place looks like The Nothing from Neverending Story had its way with the place). Akureyri is 5 hours northeast of Reykjavik. It’s practically IN the arctic circle. I was half-expecting polar bears to greet us. It appears to have about 5 man-made structures, in addition to the airport. If you want to call it an airport; it’s about the size of a 7-11.
After de-planing in Akureyri we were subjected to a 5-1/2 hour bus ride to Reykjavik. On a bus without heat. Let me tell you right now, “Iceland” is aptly named. It’s fucking cold here. My cranky wife was simultaneously nerdy and creepy when she said she wanted to wear me like a Ton-Ton for warmth. She later decided against that, saying she might need to eat me instead since we hadn’t been fed in over 12 hours. Our sleep-deprived road trip consisted of a death-defying jaunt through a barren wasteland of snow and mountains. We saw the occasional sheep and/or pony farm every hour or so.
An hour outside of Reykjavik our frozen bus broke down. In a tunnel, while I was asleep. So I woke up in a dark cave to an Icelandic woman urging me to get off the bus. I was all “What? Huh, where are we? Are we in a cave? Are you leaving me in a CAVE?!” They wanted us to get on some other bus, without our luggage. Iceland Air people lied to us and said assured us our baggage would be delivered to a hotel and we’d get a flight to our eventual destination.
We spent the rest of our day trying to get Iceland Air to make good on the promise to give us our luggage and trying to find another flight. We also spent much of our time lamenting the fact that our toothbrushes were in said luggage and our teeth felt gross. Also feeling pissy about the hotel demanding $20 for martinis! At this point it’s almost inhumane to not have free martinis. We eventually also paid $20 to get a cab to the bus terminal to retrieve our misplaced luggage out of pure despair for toothpaste and clean undies.
We are starting to wonder if this volcano isn’t some elaborate ploy to trap travelers in Iceland and force us to spend exorbitant sums on booze to stimulate their economy. We are tentatively going to London tomorrow. This gives us only roughly 24 hours of actual vacation time in London before we have to head to Amsterdam for the next leg of vacation. All I can say is 1. Amsterdam better happen and 2. It better be epic to make up for our thus far atrocious vacation. Who needs a drink?
P.S. I don’t really hate Iceland. It’s a neat place and I totally understand that sometimes things happen beyond the airline’s control. I still don’t forgive the frozen bus/lost luggage. I mean, they aren’t flying today. Would it have been sooo hard to get a bus with heat and not separate us from our luggage? Or at the very least pay to reunite us with our luggage and buy us a few rounds at the bar? Being vegetarian, this offer of a free reindeer sausage is not make me feel better about things.
I’m time travel bloggin, y’all. As you are reading this I am on a plane to London for vacation. I didn’t want to leave you guys without some boozy treats in my absence, so I wrote this post on Tuesday. Any way, below is a delectable recipe from The Food Addicts.
Watermelon Champagne:
5 cups seedless watermelon, cubed
2 2/3 cups Champagne
1/2 cup vodka
1/4 cup triple sec
3 Tablespoons lime juice
1/4 cup fresh mint leaves
Blend the watermelon on high until smooth and then strain through a sieve to yield 2 cups of juice. Combine juice with remaining ingredients in a pitcher and refrigerate until ready to serve.
Apparently scientists are working on a “cuddle spray” to make men more affectionate. Normally we’re very solitary creatures slinking off to our caves after sex and sleeping on a pile of rocks, ice water running through our manly veins. When we’re done with that we eat some steaks and wrestle bears. I don’t see why science would want to tamper with any of that.
The image caption that came with this photo (via MSNBC) read, “The bears fought each other in the middle of stunning Alaskan scenery for 15 minutes before wandering off to catch salmon in a nearby river.” I like that they got bored with their fight and just wandered off to eat. If only all fights would end that way. I bet these bears were dudes. Add your photo captions below
Since I don’t get out much, I don’t often run into all the cool people who wear Ex-Boyfriend tees and accessories. Thus I’m virtually meeting some of you here on the blog.
If you want to show off your Ex-Boyfriend look on our blog and answer some interview questions drop me a line. Be sure to send me your mailing address so I can send you a little thank you. In the meantime, meet Matt from Fredericton NB. Our little interview is below
How did you first discover Ex-Boyfriend? I originally found a few shirts from Ex-Boyfriend on a website called ShopIndie.
5 desert island musical artists? I’ll assume this means I’m marooned on a desert island with 5 artists of my choice. And in making an ass out of u and me, I’ll say, Emily Haines, Tim Armstrong, Greg Graffin, Paul McCartney, and Shad. They should keep me from getting bored, and they can help me build a boat!
Tell us about your pop cultural guilty pleasures. I sometimes wake up early when my room mates aren’t home to watch Live with Regis and Kelly.
What kind of tees do you hope we design next? I’ve been looking for a bad ass owl t-shirt lately.
Favorite haunts on the web? The internet is haunted?!
Do you have any pets? What are they, what are their names? I do have pets! I have a chinchilla named Andrea, a lovebird named Faye, and a chameleon named Lemon. And some fish, the don’t have names, just titles (the fat one, the spotty one, etc.)
If you had a time machine, where in history or the future would you go? I’m pretty sure I’d just go ride a dinosaur.
Beer, liquor or wine (be specific)? A year ago I’d have said liquor. I was never big on wine, but lately I’ve gotten a taste for beer. Guiness, and Alexander Keiths are my favorites, but there are still quite a few I haven’t tried.
What’s the first thing you notice about the ladies (or dudes if you prefer them)? Not to sound too bland or cliche, but usually their face. After that it varies, shoes, pants, or skirt, hair, whichever stands out the most from person to person.
Cake, pie or cookies (ice cream and candy are also acceptable, but be specific)? Pie for sure. I like cake and cookies, but I’m pretty old fashioned, so a cup of tea and a piece of Dad’s home made lemon pie is good enough for me.
How is it this is the first time I’ve heard about this. There are cat cafes in Tokyo! OMG! I’ve always wanted to go there and this only further piques my interest. It’s the closest thing we have to modern day cat worship. (Please don’t tell my cats, they’d leave me for a kitty shrine in a heartbeat.)
For 100 Yen (about 11 US dollars) you get one hour in the kitty temple. Cat toys are provided, but you mustn’t wake up any sleeping kitties or insist kitties cuddle with you if they express a disinterest. Also no flash photography or small children. House rules for optimal kitty bliss.
Japanese kitty fans have likened cat-gazing to looking at art and say the cafes are a great way to relieve stress. Amazing!
via Christian Science Monitor
Originally I had planned to meet friends for drinks in Federal Hill last night (a neighborhood that’s about a 30 minute walk from my house). Unfortunately the bar we’d planned to check out was crowded beyond words so we ended up just going back to our own neighborhood to our favorite local spot. This wasn’t a complete loss though, because the walk to Federal Hill was pure amusement.
I present exhibit A. A “no sagging” sign hung in a hookah lounge window in Fed Hill:
If that’s not amusing enough, we also saw the most high-out-of-her-mind woman ambling across a bridge at the inner harbor. This woman was clearly beyond just drunk, illicit substances were definitely involved. She was wearing 6 inch stilettos, skinny jeans and a cropped top. She had a grocery bag from Whole Foods and she was stumbling across this bridge hanging onto the railing as if it was the only thing keeping her upright. She had in earbuds from an ipod and she was singing Bloc Party at the top of her lungs. Well slurring more than singing, but you get the idea.
Were you hoping for boozier news? Today I’m digging this melontini recipe over at The Taste of Oregon. It’s been crazy hot the last few days, and a cold refreshing watermelon martini sounds perfect right now. (Or maybe in a few hours, it is before noon.)
I happened upon these portraits by Holly Norris today and thought they were pretty cool.
From the artists’ statement:
“‘American Able’ intends to, through spoof, reveal the ways in which women with disabilities are invisibilized in advertising and mass media. I chose American Apparel not just for their notable style, but also for their claims that many of their models are just ‘every day’ women who are employees, friends and fans of the company. However, these women fit particular body types. Their campaigns are highly sexualized and feature women who are generally thin, and who appear to be able-bodied. Women with disabilities go unrepresented, not only in American Apparel advertising, but also in most of popular culture. Rarely, if ever, are women with disabilities portrayed in anything other than an asexual manner, for ‘disabled’ bodies are largely perceived as ‘undesirable.’ In a society where sexuality is created and performed over and over within popular culture, the invisibility of women with disabilities in many ways denies them the right to sexuality, particularly within a public context.”
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