Crucial Bits & Dummy spits

So Here I sit in the International departure lounge in Auckland and what a couple of days I've had.

In the last 48 hours I've had 4 hours sleep. Yep - sum total 4 hours. There was always going to be too much to do and not enough time to do it in so something had to give and sleep was optional.

There seriously is something amiss when you are still working on the bikini wax at 2am which you are doing in between hanging washing that is not yet the last load and that compounds when you forget - due to exhaustion -to use the pre-waxing oil provided so that the wax doesn't stick so tight that wax and skin become one. And thank the Lord for delerium cos without it the pain of rectifying that mess should have made me pass out. :)

It was pretty soon after that debarcle that I stopped fighting the blur and gave in and threw myself on the bed and set the alarm for two whole hours of blissful slumber.
It felt like 2 minutes.

But knowing that the 'must do' list was now getting culled, I had no option but to hoist my carcass off the queen size and soldier on - I can sleep on the plane right?
hmmmm... yeah right!

The last hour prior to departure has simply vanished from my memory. And from the flashes I get, thats probably fortunate.
Saying goodbye to no.1 son was too fast and everybit as traumatic as the same scene the day before when his baby sister walked across the tarmac without me South Australia bound. I really hadn't prepared myself for the wrench that turned out to be.
I'd been so focused on being ready, that I had blocked that emotional stuff and when it hit - it thumped.

Alas, I didn't have time to dwell on the 'what if's ' and threw the last few things into my suitcases, zipped them up adn hurled them out the door for the now late airport shuttle.
That sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach decended about 10 minutes away from home - realising that I'd left my 4 favourite T shirts and best jeans in the dryer in my haste.
So I have 2 t shirts in my possession now and am one hot pair of jeans down before I've even left the Sunshine Coast. Great start huh?

Reaching the check in, I sweated all the way through the line, not having time to weight my cases, only to be pleasantly surprised by the fact that I had a combined 8 kg up my sleeve for on the way home. YAY!

Customs was a breeze and now that I have one of those zappy things in my passport I get no stamp. That was disappointing.

Through security was lengthy but uneventful, thanks to having to take off my buckled up boots and all the essential electrical equipment that I cannot live without having to go through the x-rays unpacked.
And lucky me.... I got picked out for the pat down and explosives test - really, I must do something about that unibomber look. Must have been the black leather boots and long black jacket, and with the the potential snap of rubber gloves ringing in my imagination, I stepped behind the screen andreliquished my personal space to a burly woman who's name must surely be Bertha.

My only moment of panic was when I was asked to put my bulging carry on wheelie on the scales - knowing full well that it had to be over the allotted 7 kgs and I almost passed out when up on that little LCD numbers screen came 12 kg's.
With visions of having to leave behind some of my beloved electrical and photographic stuff with the brusque Kiwi woman I gulped and explained that there wasn't much in there but it was weighty.
I lucked out and was allowed to continue on. In hindsight I could have left behind my brand new and at this point useless ipod with her because, thanks to a glitch in my computer the night before, I couldn't load a single song onto it before leaving. I still live in hope that I will be able to when I have a moment. With the lenghtiest part of the trip still ahead, it will be touch and go in the boredom stakes.
And for those who know me well, you will know the bitter tears I'd have had over not having my beloved music pounding in my ears for possibly the duration of the trip. Its the worst case scenario possible.

So despite having the tray on the back of my seat repeatedlt slammed shut and whacked open again by a tantrum chucking 3 year old behind me all the way between Brisbane and NZ, I enjoyed the flight and throughly enjoyed the meat pie and triple choc Kapiti ice-cream for lunch. Even the NZ spring water tasted better.

Oh my gosh, Auckland is just beauiful. Definitely a place I want to return to.
Flying in, in the early evening was just breathtaking.
The top part of the North Island was spread out before me like a great big slab of misshapen hedgehog, all the lumps liberally iced rich green icing clinging to the peaks and valleys. So So Beautiful with the light catching all the edges of the ridges and the little cars looking like those silver balls that you decorate cakes with sprinkled everywhere.
And how appropriate that the Land of the Long White Cloud had those fluffy which whipped cream clouds suspended in its stratosphere.
Such rich colours mustsurely alude to the wonderland that it would be to explore. Definitely doing that one day.
And the shops in the departure area alone made my eyes goggle. I was sorely tempted by the manuka honey pots adn white chocolate sheep. But I draw the line at the bungy jumping kiwi toy that will forever be suspended up the wrong way - thats too much even for me.

And the entire place was drowning in the All Blacks gear. Lucky I don't have a clue which end of rugby union is which - all those silver ferns beckoned even me. Like I said - lucky I follow the 'real' foot ball..... :)