June 28th: exit China
[ posted by mcdeviltoast ]
Day 285
Woke at 6, readied everything, hugged Rhys and Jeni goodbye. I think it was too early for tearducts to function but I'm vertain all of us felt the the urge to cry. I told them that the blog torch was now passed to them and that detailed Chinese adventures with all my favorite characters were to be documented thoroughly. Rhys gave me a small box, the contents of which were to be "played with in the airport." Another round of hugs and a brinking tideswell of emotion, then we strolled down the hall in the company of our luggage, the Haimen fellowship splintering for the last as elevator doors curtained closed.
Next: What's the best way to kill an emotional buoyancy? By replacing it with the very justified urge to strangle. The front desk girl, the very one whom the day before said "I know, I know" to our shuttle request said there wasn't one. A gulp of dread. Why? She claimed that although we had talked about it, we had never actually reserved it. THE NERVE. She dropped the ball and now due to a stupid face-save culture she was insisting it was OUR fault we had no shuttle. Had the bellhop guy not gone out and flagged down a cab at that moment, had that cab not been less expensive then the shuttle anyway, and had we not been in a stressful rush to catch our plane, I'm certain that Heather and I would have played a game of "rock scissors paper" to determine exactly who got the pleasure of wrapping our may guo ren claws around this girl's throat and throttling her like an ostrich.
Stress and murder urges abated as the cab worked its way up the highway. The buildings and skyline streamed by in the morning sun, a last look, a look shared by Lindsey, by Mike, by Matt and Erin. What had they felt? What was going through their mind? Excitement? Sadness? That inexplicable "home" feeling in the pit of your stomach that feels like a fishing line beginning to reel?
These thoughts were shattered as I sipped my coffee and an inopportune cab jostle spilled it down my shirt. Great. The day was going to over 30 hours long and I'd have to endure it with a stained shirt. But who was I to tempt fate with a white shirt while trying to drink something in a Chinese cab?
I bought some souvenirs just to try and get rid of my extra kuai they wouldn't exchange despite my paperwork being in order and having the crucial red stamp. Fuckers. We boarded and I passed out right before takeoff, fell "asleep against the window pane" as Thom Yorke sang. The roar of the engines and the rattling of the cabin shook me awake, we tipped upward like a box of crackers, shed the ground below like a garment and soon only water was visible, the China chapter finished.
Woke at 6, readied everything, hugged Rhys and Jeni goodbye. I think it was too early for tearducts to function but I'm vertain all of us felt the the urge to cry. I told them that the blog torch was now passed to them and that detailed Chinese adventures with all my favorite characters were to be documented thoroughly. Rhys gave me a small box, the contents of which were to be "played with in the airport." Another round of hugs and a brinking tideswell of emotion, then we strolled down the hall in the company of our luggage, the Haimen fellowship splintering for the last as elevator doors curtained closed.
Next: What's the best way to kill an emotional buoyancy? By replacing it with the very justified urge to strangle. The front desk girl, the very one whom the day before said "I know, I know" to our shuttle request said there wasn't one. A gulp of dread. Why? She claimed that although we had talked about it, we had never actually reserved it. THE NERVE. She dropped the ball and now due to a stupid face-save culture she was insisting it was OUR fault we had no shuttle. Had the bellhop guy not gone out and flagged down a cab at that moment, had that cab not been less expensive then the shuttle anyway, and had we not been in a stressful rush to catch our plane, I'm certain that Heather and I would have played a game of "rock scissors paper" to determine exactly who got the pleasure of wrapping our may guo ren claws around this girl's throat and throttling her like an ostrich.
Stress and murder urges abated as the cab worked its way up the highway. The buildings and skyline streamed by in the morning sun, a last look, a look shared by Lindsey, by Mike, by Matt and Erin. What had they felt? What was going through their mind? Excitement? Sadness? That inexplicable "home" feeling in the pit of your stomach that feels like a fishing line beginning to reel?
These thoughts were shattered as I sipped my coffee and an inopportune cab jostle spilled it down my shirt. Great. The day was going to over 30 hours long and I'd have to endure it with a stained shirt. But who was I to tempt fate with a white shirt while trying to drink something in a Chinese cab?
I bought some souvenirs just to try and get rid of my extra kuai they wouldn't exchange despite my paperwork being in order and having the crucial red stamp. Fuckers. We boarded and I passed out right before takeoff, fell "asleep against the window pane" as Thom Yorke sang. The roar of the engines and the rattling of the cabin shook me awake, we tipped upward like a box of crackers, shed the ground below like a garment and soon only water was visible, the China chapter finished.
---
[ posted by mcdeviltoast @ 6/28/2005 01:14:00 PM ]
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The dumbtronica act Montana & McDeviltoast, along with their friends, keep each other updated on their activities. Much fun having by all, and Pockys fear for their lives!