Again

There have been bomb blasts in my home city of Mumbai. Again.

Two years ago, we all watched in horror and disbelief as gunmen took over various points in the city taking people hostage for several days. The reports that come through on the TV seemed more like a video game than a real life situation. Before that, there was train bombings. Several of them over a few years. Before that, there were riots, burnings, looting, mass killings and more bomb blasts.

Each time, both local and international media sprung into action. Around the world, expats frantically punched in telephone numbers trying to get in touch with loved ones. We watched the news reports and read every article about the event. There was much discussion, lamenting, anger.

This time, nothing.

My dad texted me with the news. I went onto the BBC website and read the report, then read it again later in the day when there were more details. There was a sense of apathy as I read. Like I've heard all of this before and been through the motions. It wasn't much talked about when I got him and in fact we spent more time discussing the fall out from the phone hacking scandal in the UK.

There was a point where I felt a twinge of guilt. Was I supposed to be sadder? And it wasn't just me I realised. Mumbai, and by extension India as a whole seemed to have shrugged off the incident and moved on. Did that mean people were carelessly indifferent? And, does indifference necessarily have to be a bad thing? The cowards behind attacks like these are looking to cause chaos and fear. But, they are also looking to milk the aftermath of the media attention for their own cause. Taking their cues from the Hollywood A-listers, they know that the more people talk about them the more power they have to cause fear.

What would happen if no one paid any attention? I wonder.

Voodoo Cleansing

There is some funky magic happening right now. My past lives are being investigated. Somewhere in some previous existence I must have done something very very naughty. There must have been something so horrible that I have done either in this, or another life that I am paying paying paying dearly for right now.

Like the fact that exactly a month ago, Boss Man called to assure me that although he had dissolved the company it would only be a matter of a week before he had the new office up and running and I would be back at work.

A week passed, and then another. I went to Paris and returned. In between, I made a fair few calls to Boss Man, sent along a few text messages and emails as well. I finally got a text message back saying that the new office would be up and running by the end of week. When I hadn't heard back by Thursday afternoon, I sent along another text message and email asking if we could meet so that I could collect February's pay.

Since then, its been regular phone calls, text messages and emails to him asking the same question - When am I to be paid? No reply.

By my calculations, he owes me around £700 for a combination of work hours and expenses. That works out to 2 months rent... and then some. Groceries. Real food for a change. Don't get me wrong, the yogurt and raisins diet is making me very regular, but I'm kind of craving actual meals again.

And then there's all those pesky bills from the Paris trip. Which was only booked in the first place as I figured that I would be working for a few weeks and I'd be able to afford it all right.

Right now, I'm just hoping that the witch doctor soon runs out of pins to poke into the Pixy doll and that the fires of the strange magic are extinguished soon. Very soon!

The Shortest Holiday Ever Taken

I took the 5:45am train from Bombay to Goa on the 19th and arrived into Mapusa at around 2:15 that afternoon. The next day, I left Goa at 2:20pm making it a grand total of 25 hours "on vacation".

In between, there was a large amount of running around and general chaos thanks to my little cousin having fallen ill with the stomach flu. Add in the complications of a door that would not lock thus forcing us to find alternate accommodation, a very anxious and easily alarmed pair of rellies and a cousin who persisted in treating me like a child causing me to have a meltdown of my own ... well, let's just say that those 25 hours were highly stress inducing.

Not the kind of vacation I would recommend!

How to Put on a Brave Face amidst Inner Turmoil

Readers, I am a royal mess right now. Beans' 30th birthday party celebrations are tonight, and I'm all in a dither. To go or not to go; the very worrisome question.

Not going just doesn't seem like an option even. It would be too much like admitting a level of defeat. But if I DO go, then I simply HAVE to shine tonight. Anything less, and it would be another kind of defeat.

To that effect, every single item of clothing I own is strewn around my bedroom in my attempt to put together an outfit for tonight that I'm hoping with be-dazzle the guests and keep them from seeing just how frightening and anxious and nervous I actually am!

The plan is to make a fashionable late entrance, 9:30 -10ish, do the rounds, make polite conversation with all of his friends and co workers (all of whom know EXACTLY who I am), have at least one conversation with his mother and brothers and then make a graceful exit around 1am.

Must run dahlings! A long bubble bath awaits to calm my frazzled nerves.


Update:
Finally have an outfit packed out. Hair under control and looking FAB-u-lous. Ass-in-jeans also fab. (but, of course!)
Grabbing a bite to eat before I head out and flip on the TV. Buffy's on. And its the episode where Anya first makes an appearance. Coincidence? I think NOT!

I am so going to ROCK this party tonight!!!

What Lies Beneath

Last night I was invited out to a friend's post Hallowe'en party. The theme was Steam Punk fashions, something that I had no clue about. Not wanting to spend anything on an elaborate costume, I dug deep into my very limited wardrobe and came up with:

• One pair of army fatigues
  
• One pink corset
• Matching jewellery

Jellycake was nice enough to help me with doing my makeup and hair for the night; I'm totally miserable at that kind of thing. I cannot even begin to count the number of times I have stabbed myself in the eye while trying to put on eyeliner or mascara. Nothing about a red, watery, twitchy eye is remotely appealing! Under Jellycake's masterful expertise however, the results were much much better and sans any eye piercing drama.

Little did I know just how grateful I would be for a face full of makeup later on when I saw Beans snuggled up on the couch with one of the girls at the party. I wish I could report that I got my own back in the same manner, but I just wasn't up to playing vixen that night. Instead, I took my bottle of vino and crept away to the stairwell where I spent most of the night listening to the sounds of the party knowing that somewhere in there, the love of my life was making small talking with Bambie MacSlutty.

Its a good thing that I listened to Jellycake and had worn the waterproof mascara. I can attest to the fact that it really works.

Likes and Dislikes

After 13 days in G Town, I like:

• Living the heart of a city. Everything is incredibly close and walkable
• Living in the same city as my boyfriend. Its incredible not having to calculate forward or back in time before dialing his phone number, and wondering if I can afford the call in the first place!
• Living in the same city as my oldest friend. We are discovering our friendship all over again.
  

After 13 days in G Town, I do not like:

• The feeling of isolation each day as I am home alone looking up endless jobs online.
• The fact that a lot of my day is now taken up doing mindless chores like dish washing and laundry.
  
• The fact that planning the dinner menu is now the high point of my day.
  

If there is a job out there, please let me find it!

Teenage Angst Revisited

As if the stressors described in the last post weren't enough, today my entire family descended on our house for a Canada Day/Farewell to Me party. Thankfully although we had rain clouds that moved in and out all afternoon, the actual rain held off and we could enjoy the day out in the back yard.

Apparently my body is not liking all of these recent stressors any more than I am. I woke up this morning with 3 strategically placed pimples on my mug. Terrific.

All of my family took pics with me today. Me and my 3 new pals. What a great remembrance!

This *could* be terrible

Why is it that the closer you are to life altering events, the more the potential for things to do drastically wrong? Is there some sort of warped timing fairy that decides to send along stress to ADD to existing stress? Why can't she just space it all out? As if its not enough that in a mere 15 days I leave my home, family, friends and most importantly steady employment to head off into the literal unknown. Now, add a slowly imploding Maternal Unit, stir in ambiguity around a bank statement that tells me I have $10,000 LESS than what I should have in my bank account and a garnish with a potential life altering injury to that mix, and you have the perfect cocktail a la Murphy's Law.

Although I'm (fairly) sure that the bank thingy is just an error and will sort itself out, I'm not that confident about the injury. Right now, it hurts too much and I'm petrified that its going to affect my departure AND my dancing. Both are equally important.

It all began a few weeks ago when I left dance class feeling that things were not quite OK with the big toe on my right foot. It felt like it needed to "crack" but try as I may, I couldn't get it to do so and that meant that every step I took caused a sharp pain in my foot.

I hobbled around for a day bemoaning my fate, but positive that it would "crack" and all would be well. Sure enough, 2 days later I was flexing my feet and felt the toe release and then there wasn't any pain as I walked.

Perfect!

Then, yesterday at dance class I did a routine spin turn and felt a sharp stabbing pain shoot through my entire foot like a white hot iron had been pushed against my toe. The pain was just too much and I had to leave class. Somehow I got home.

It was slightly better this morning, but again, I thought it would just sort itself out, so I headed out to work. By the time I got off the subway downtown, my foot was throbbing so much that I could feel the vibrations in my neck! The closest chiropractor was luckily across the road from my office and I headed over.

He poked. He prodded. He asked me a hundred questions.
He moved my foot right, and then left.
He made me flex up. And then down.
He took a tuning fork and held it to my toe. I was tempted to sing in the key of C sharp.

He looked up. I held my breath.

Its a strained tendon, maybe even torn. You'll be in pain for a while, but it will heal and then everything should be ok.

I beamed, and started to breathe normally again.

Rest it as much as possible, ice it regularly and no dancing for at least 2 months.

There goes my performance dance next week. 3 months of practice down the crapper. And that's barely enough time for me to recover before the trip to Israel - that guarantees a lot of walking around. And HOW am I going to get all of my packing and last minute preps done if I'm supposed to not walk around at all?

There's just too much cloud right now. I can't find the silver lining.

A Cinderella Story

Once upon a time, there lived a little brown girl with beautiful hair called Pixy. She was a smart and sassy little thing, always ready to laugh and loved - just loved - to dance.

Pixy's cousin was about to be married. It was going to be a big family affair. She really really really wanted to look half decent at this wedding and so she asked her friend - the brilliant and talented Niffer - to help her out. She showed Niffer an old sari that belonged to her grandmother and Niffer agreed to make her something wedding worthy out of it.

Last week, Pixy dropped by Niffer's place to try on the creation. It was BEAUTIFUL. A simple pattern that was brought to life by the rich vibrant colours of the sari and the intricate gold embroidery. Pixy tired it on and felt like a princess; Niffer had waved her magic over the cloth and turned it into a living wonder. The result was almost overwhelming for the Pixy girl who usually stumbled around in ratty jeans and T-shirts. She couldn't wait for the wedding next week.

But this would not be a fairy tale without a horrid twist - would it? And here's that twist.

Pixy came home yesterday and was informed by her mother that the skirt came back from the dry cleaners - but was absolutely ruined. The entire bottom embroidery had disintegrated and some of the seams had ripped as well. There was no way she was wearing that. Ever.

She surveyed the disaster.

And then, fled to her room where stormy tears flowed freely. Pixy had set her heart on "looking nice" and now, that was all ruined. She cried for seemed like hours. For the lost chance, for the wasted material, for the lost effort on Niffer's part.

Perhaps she was over reacting. After all, it was just a dress.... and in the whole scheme of things not important. But it didn't feel like so to Pixy.

And so, she went to bed that night thinking about how she almost had the chance to live the fairy tale, but now there would not be a happily ever after.

Yards and Yards of Red Tape

It's only been 2 days since I submitted by visa application, but what a 2 days it has been. All day yesterday I was literally too nervous to work, constantly thinking about the visa and that dreadful "what-if-I-don't-get-it" thought hung over me like a big shadow of Doom. Logically, I know that I meet all of the criteria outlined by the British High Commission and I know that I had supplied all of the correct documentation etc. Still, anything that involves an interaction with a bureaucratic authority is a painful and nerve wracking process fraught with nail chewing and hair pulling along the way - mainly because of their overall lack of clear instruction around processes and ambiguous wording on documentation. Here is my evidence of the same:

I went over to the visa agent's offices on Wednesday to drop off my application and supporting documents and have my biometric scans taken. I had read and re read the instructions on the website and had every document they asked for neatly in a folder. The lady at the counter asked me what was my intended date of travel. Early July I told her. She made a disapproving clicking sound. "You're applying too early. They only issue visas 3 months in advance of the travel dates." Now readers, I'd read that website backwards and forwards. There was no mention AT ALL of this "rule". What it DOES mention is that there is a specific per annum quota allocated for this type of visa and no exceptions are made once the numbers have been met. I asked her about this and said that I could wait another 3-4 weeks to apply, but what if I am too late to meet the quota?

She looked doubtful.

She then told me I'd have to write a letter stating that I'd like to postpone the visa start to end June, for travel in early July. That way I could meet the 3 month criteria and the visa officers would know not to issue the visa right away so that I don't "waste" 3 months of it. I pointed out that Q1 on the application asks for intended date of travel. "Do I have to write a letter even after I've answered that question right on the form itself?"

She looked doubtful.

"Write the letter" she repeated and added "Don't worry, we have a lot of people who apply too early and they all have to write this letter." So I asked her if she had a template that I could follow that would tell me who to address the letter to, and what the subject line should be etc etc.

She looked confused.

Turns out, even though they have encountered "a lot of people" in the past who've needed this letter, they didn't once think to have a standard document prepared, or a sample template that one could copy from. But what am I saying? That would require forward thinking - and this was a government agent.

I wrote the letter.

That settled, we moved on to proof of funds. I said that I had a letter from my bank stating my current balance in all accounts as well as a letter from my investment company stating the total value of my current portfolio. "Where is your bank statement?" she asked. I explained that because I do online banking, I don't get a monthly statement in the mail. It is emailed to me instead. And because the website clearly stated that all documentation must be original and must be on the bank's letterhead I cannot include an emailed version. I assured her that the letter from the bank clearly states my current bank balance.

She looked doubtful.

I asked her to have a look at the letter and tell me it was acceptable. She declined saying that as agents, they were not in a position to give advice to the applicants. "But you have a helpline listed on the website that says one can call for clarification on documents or the process." She agreed, but apparently SHE couldn't advise me. If I wanted clarification, I would have to step back outside, call in to the office (the same office I was currently standing in), ask my questions.... and (here's the kicker) be billed $3.50 per minute for the call!!!!!!

That was when I knew I was in a loosing battle. It simply didn't matter how well I read the website, or how well I'd complied my documents or how well my supporting letters were written. I was going to experience application anxiety regardless for this is how all government processes work. So there was nothing else for me to do but hand over my file and leave...... and then spend the next 5-15 days with a large Cloud of Doom hanging over my every move.

Terrific.

Overdose

Day 1
My mum was admitted into the hospital last week on Wednesday. Her surgery (Werthers' Hysterectomy) was scheduled for 8am, which meant that she need to check in at 6am. So, accordingly the entire family woke up at some ungodly hour and trotted off the the hospital. After getting her settled into the room and prepped for surgery I left and hastened downtown to work. Got there just in time to set my phone/email to "out of office" grab my files and head over to Union station to catch a train out to Waterloo which is about 2 hours west of the T Dot. Got there, attended my meetings, gave my presentations, met the people I needed to meet, shook the hands I needed to shake and then it was right back to TO. Went over to the hospital that night to stay with my mum. Thankfully she was loopy on morphine and snored most of the night away. Didn't get too much sleep myself as the room was freezing (but mum was hot), the floor was icy cold (even through the sleeping bag) and it seemed like my mum and the dude next door were competing for who has the loudest post-operative snore.

Day 2
My dad relieved me the next morning and I trooped off home to catch some much needed zzzzzzs. Woke up at 11am and worked from home for the rest of the day. Back to the hospital for the night shift. Mum was moving around now, and so this night was filled with trips back and forth to the washroom.

Day 3
9 am the next morning. Where the HELL is my brother? He was supposed to relieve me at 8 am. 9:54 - Brother finally shows up. Sans coffee. Grrrrrrrrrr. Run back home. No time for a nap as have to sit in on conference call at 10:30. Continued working right through the afternoon. Trippy* and the Beer Baron rescued me that evening and I headed off with them to oogle at Daniel Craig's ass. (ok, just Trippy and I were doing the oogling) Back to the hospital after the movie, that's when the fun REALLY began.
Woke up at around 1 am coz my entire body felt like it was on FIRE. Apparently I had been itching in my sleep and my arms and tummy and legs were all red and there were some weird-ass looking welts all over me. Realizing that I hadn't had too much of sleep over the past 2 days, there was the distinct possibility that I was dreaming up this entire episode. A quick check in at the nurse's station confirmed that I was indeed awake and in need to medical attention. Well, good thing I was in a hospital! So, after making sure my mum knew where I would be, off I went to the ER.

It was easy enough to check in and get my "wait-in-line" number. The hard part was trying to find a seat in the waiting room where I could avoid catching another disease! It was truly hard to avoid all the coughers and sneezy and feverish folk who had strategically placed themselves all over the waiting area so that no matter which way you faced, you were in direct line with one (or more) of them. I spied a seat that SEEMED to be angled just right. As I settled in, I at once realized WHY that seat was empty. The girl across from me looked like she was going to hurl at any minute. Eesh! Well, it was too late to move; All the other "good" spots were taken. And besides, I was already drawing curious looks as I was in PJs and bedroom slippers with a big shawl wrapped around me. So it was sit tight and hope for the best!

About 1.5 hours and 20 songs on my mp3 player later, my name is called and I'm told to "....follow the green dots to room 9." Feeling a little like Indy Jones on a treasure quest, I comply with direction only to find myself in another little waiting area; what a let down! I guess they sort out patients by their symptoms/illness so I was with a group of fellow symptomizers.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) by the time I actually saw a doctor, the hives/rash had subsided so I actually didn't have anything to show him. He looked at me most suspiciously (well, who could blame him? I was wearing cheeky monkey PJs and fuzzy blue bedroom slippers) as I tried to explain what exactly the rash looked liked. Anyway, without any current symptoms there was little he could do so he told me to get some Benadryl and come back if it got worse. Great, 3 hours later he tells me to do what I wanted to do in the first place. We did figure out however what DIDN'T cause the hives!
- Not food: symptoms would have manifested with 15 mins to half hour of eating.
- Not a bite: symptoms would be localized to one area of the body.
- Not medication: I wasn't on any (though I could see he doubted that)

So back I went to my mum's room to try and catch whatever sleep I could sitting upright in a very uncomfortable hospital chair.**

Day 4As soon as it was possible (i.e 6 am) I called my brother and told him to come pick me up - and bring some Benadryl! Went home and crashed and was thrilled that the hives had all disappeared when I woke up. Thinking that everything was peachy once more, I headed off to get my hair cut. By the time I got back, my mum had been discharged from the hospital and we had a whole load of people over at our place all supposedly trying to "help" but in reality they were just all in way! Finally got them all out and my mum settled in, just in time for the hives to flare up again! Great!

A quick call to Telehealth Ontario assured me that I didn't need to run back to the ER, instead keep up the regular doses of Benadryl and apply lots of cooling lotions on affected areas. This time around, it was all over my back which of course meant that I couldn't sit down or lie down very comfortably and that meant that I had to sleep on my belly all night long.

Day 5 (today)Woke up this morning and the rash on my back is all gone - only to be replaced by a rash all over my neck and upper chest and around my shoulders. So its been regular guzzling of Benadryl all day long and constant lathering in lotion and here I am!

Wonder what tomorrow will bring???


*The artist formerly known as Menace will henceforth be referred to as Trippy. Why? 1. She didn't like Menace and threatened to withdraw breakfast pancakes until I made the change (that sounds menacing to me!) and 2. She trips and falls down rather a lot. There is a funny story about Trippy, a road in south India and a local bus; but that's for another day.

**Just why ARE hospital chairs so bloody uncomfortable? I mean, surely they know that there will be some very concern (and very tired) relatives and friends visiting and/or spending the night. At the very least the hospital administration can say - Let's give them some nice chairs so that they in turn don't have to show up in the hospital with a strained back!

*Thwak*

That's the sound of me slapping my hand against my forehead.


Why, you ask?



Well some weeks ago, I was chatting with a dance acquaintance about my upcoming trip to AUS. Said acquaintance is a pilot with Air Canada and often flies to Sydney. As we were chatting, she mentioned that it would nice if she could join me in Sydney and hang out for a bit. "Sure," I said. "That sounds great." Then she asked what I'm doing after Sydney, and I said that I was thinking of heading off to the Northern Territory to do some camping/hiking in the outback. "That sounds great," said she. "I've always wanted to do that. Perhaps I can take a few days off and tag along." Once again, I agreed thinking that it would be nice to have company on this rather desolate of adventures. It was agreed that she would check with the airline about getting time off and get back to me by the end of the week. 


Two weeks, two phone calls and three emails later, I still haven't heard from her and I'm getting antsy as I want to go ahead and finalize my internal travel plans. Logic (and the Irishman) tells me to go ahead anyway. If she was really interested, she'd connect with me. Anyway, I finally manage to touch base with her last Thursday and as I'm telling her about my plan to hike/camp out in the East MacDonnell Ranges, she's suddenly asking me about new year's eve plans in Melbourne. A bit confused, I say that I don't have a set plan but I'm sure my cousins will come up with something. She then proceeds to tell me all her ideas for new year's eve in Melbourne. Still a little confused, I clarify - XX, are you planning to going to Melbourne as well? "Well yes", she replies. "Melbourne for New Year's just sounds great, and so I've decided to go there as well." "But XX," I say with much trepidation, "I'm going to be spending most of my time in Melbourne with my family. In fact, I'm not even going to be IN Melbourne for Christmas as my cousin lives on a ranch in the country and the entire family is heading over there for a few days. But, hey, I'll be back on the 27th and we can hang out again - if you want."


"Oh" says XX. "You're going to be with your family. Hummm, I forgot about Christmas. Well, I guess I can come along to your cousins ranch and then we can come back to Melbourne together."


Totally panicking now, I mumble something about not being sure if my cousin has room for any more people seeing as how he's already hosting about 20 people at his place. Her reply; "Pixy, I don't do alone. I'm not like you. Christmas in the country is not exactly what I'd planned, but under the circumstances, it will just have to do."


Eh? Did I even INVITE you.... you spazzy self centered c*nt???? And what moron can't see that if I want to spend Christmas with my family, well then that's my prerogative??? This is MY holiday that you've just hijacked and now YOU want to make the rules???? GAH!!!!

Heroically maintaining my self composure, I tell her that I'm afraid I cannot impose on my family any more and that if she wants to join me in Melbourne, she will have to amuse herself for the 4 days I'm away, whether or not its what she DOES. If she is still interested in joining me, I will wait another 2 days and then go ahead and book my internal travel tickets.


Yesterday, I get an email from her and I quote:
"I forgot that i had already booked a ski trip with my club from Dec 12-14. So I'm not sure about this whole Australia thing. Why don't' you just go ahead and book your tickets, and I'll book my own if I still want to go."


Hence, *THWAK*

Why did I have a 2 day headache, you ask?

Not just yet, Miss!
In an effort to speed up the process of getting me a refund on the purchase of my Zoom tickets, Amex had asked me to fill out some paperwork and send it to them. There were 2 purchases - one for $704, the other for $148. I filled out all the paperwork and sent it back.
Yesterday, I get a letter to confirm that $148 will be shortly credited to my account. When I called to ask about the other $704 I was told that I have to fill out a whole other set of forms.
Gah!


Say WHAT??!!!
Got an email from a gym that I used to be a member at telling me that I owe them $701 in unpaid dues. Apparently they never filed the paperwork from when I cancelled my membership last April. I'll be damned if I have to pay for someone else's mistake.

Sweet Baby Jesus, give me strength
My colleague was on vacation and I had to man the general info email. Copy of actual email trail.

Email 1:
Dear Sir,
I forgot my password. I cannot login to the website. Could you please email me a new password.
Thanks,

My response: Your password has been reset to XXXX.

Email 2:
Hi, Even with the new password I cannot log in to the website. It's appeared that I am not registered with the program. Kindly resolve this
Thanks,

My response: Are you sure you went to the correct website? You are registered with program ABC. If you go to the website for program XYZ, it will not let you in. You need to go to http://www.abc.ca/
Regards etc.

Email 3: Yes. I went to the website for program XYZ. Then I clicked on log on. And I put my email address as user name and XXXX as the password. (Which you sent right now.)But it's not working. I cannot log in.

Me: Repeated thumping of head against cubicle wall. Did not help the headache.

GAH to the nth degree

We got onto the flight in Glasgow and taxied onto the runway. Waited on the runway for 45 mins. Got called back to the gate. Got held at the gate for 2.5 hrs (with everyone still inside in their seats)

Left Glasgow at 7pm local time

Got into Philly at about 11pm

Had to clear customs and immigration get baggage. (1 hr)

Got shuttled to hotel + information from US Airlines staff (1.5 hrs)

Had to wait in line (again) to check in (1 hr)

Got to sleep (2 hrs)

Back to the airport

Caught 8:30 am flight to Toronto

Dada picked me up from airport and took my bags home

I went downtown to work

Got to work 11am

Went straight into a meeting

Just got out of meeting.

F*cked. So Very F.*.C.K.E.D

Found out this morning that all Zoom flights have been grounded due to outstanding fees. Although the airline has not *yet* filed for bankruptcy, it's just a matter of time.


My ticket to Glasgow for Very Best Friend's wedding was booked on Zoom. As soon as I found out what was happening, I called the travel agent.


The travel agent said to call the credit card company.

The credit card company says their waiting for further information from the airline.

My backup travel agent says that all flights for that period are sold out.

The flights that are not sold out are priced at over $2000.


I am utterly and miserably - F*CKED. 

Mountain out of a Molehill

On Tuesday evening, as I was stepping off the Ellis Island ferry I felt a little sting on my right hand. I gave it an absent minded swat and continued on my way. Overnight on the bus, I could feel my right hand itching, and my left as well, but didn't pay too much attention to it. By yesterday afternoon, as I was typing at my desk at work, I began to feel my right hand cramp up. There was a huge red bump on my arm just below my wrist and I was experiencing sharp shooting pain in my arm and in my elbow, wrist and fingers. My left hand was also rapidly swelling below my little finger and the rash was spreading to the back of my hand as well.

Going to a hospital emergency room was no good. I'd be there until midnight - unless I went into shock before that - and I really didn't want to resort to that! So I decided to head off to my GP's clinic near my house. An hour later, as I walked into the clinic, my forearm was 3 times its normal size with a huge red welt running from my wrist to mid way up my arm. The rest of the arm had cramped up and I could barely move my fingers. When I approached the check in desk, and indicated that I was experiencing some sort of allergic reaction and showed them my arm, the nurse looked a little worried. She asked me, "Are you experiencing any trouble breathing?" to which I replied "no". BIG mistake. I was waiting for the next 45 minutes, all the while my hand getting more numb and the itching driving me to near craziness!

Finally when I got to see the Doctor, she prescribed a bunch of pills to get the inflammation down, deal with any possible infection and a cream for the rash. And oh yeah, because I have a preexisting gastric condition, she then has to prescribe another pill so counter the effects that all the first pills will have on my stomach!

Woke up this morning after a night of tossing and turning (thanks to the rash) only to find that the arm is just as swollen as the night before. Back to the clinic it is; this time I'm looked at right away and given a shot. Thankfully that works and in about half an hour I see a vast improvement.

And now, just about 24 hours after all the drama began my arm seems to be back to its normal size with most of the rash gone as well.

Moral of the story: The next time something bites me, I'm going to bite back. And if that's not possible, always mention "trouble breathing" at the clinic - you'll get seen to quicker!

Very Vexing!

No matter how much I try, I CANNOT get Flickr back onto my blog.

Terribly troublesome as I have a whole new lot of lovely pics to display and no means to do so!

Can someone out there in bloggerland help me?

Sincerely,
Nix the technically defunked Pix

Fu*@ing Bureaucrats!

One of the very last things I had to do in preparation for my trip was to apply for my Indian visa. The rules of the Consulate state that one cannot apply too much in advance of the travel date so as per my calculations; this was the week to apply. Accordingly, I went onto their website last week, downloaded the application forms, got my pics taken, put together all the documents listed as needed and decided that I'd go down there first thing Monday morning and get it done.


Monday, November 27th

9:42 am - I arrive at 1895 Yonge St. very happy that I was able to get there just 12 mins after the Consulate opened for visa apps.


9:43 am - I see a notice in the lobby stating that the Indian Consulate is no longer located there. The new address is 365 Bloor St. E


9:44 am - Thoroughly confused, I scramble for my visa application (that I had printed out just the previous week) and check the address printed on there. Yup, 1895 Yonge St.


9:45 am - Place a call to Jiblett to find out for me just where is 365 Bloor St.


10:14 am - Arrive at 365 Bloor St. Suite 700. See about 100 people crowding the reception of the Consulate and apparently no system/ order anywhere. Join the nearest "line" and cross my fingers.


10:22 am - Have to move to new line as things start to get "organized".


10:54 am - I move up 4 paces. There are approx 70 people in front of me and another 40 behind. The end of the line has moved into the stairwell.


11:17 am - The line starts to move much faster. Within a few minutes, I'm at the front where one of the Consulate Officials is checking documents. The first question I'm asked -Where is your ticket? - Note: that is NOT one of the documents mentioned in the list!
I say, I have an eticket... he looks at me most suspiciously. Then asks - What is your date of travel? I reply - Dec 14 and he snaps back - Come back on Dec 12.

By now, I am thoroughly confused and try to ask why I need to come back two days before my travel and have to pay the higher "emergency fee" when I have plenty of time to get the visa the regular way now. - No reply... he has moved on to someone else.


I move out of line and back towards the reception. I see a young lady who appears to work there and repeat my question to her. The answer - You can always mail it in. That way you're still paying the same fee.


Well! That was simple enough! Why wouldn't A**hole there have said that??? Oh... wait... that would mean that he would have had to actually LISTEN to what I was saying, and want to HELP.


11:55 am - I find the closest Post Office and send off my documents.

Now comes the long and tedious wait. Will I get my passport back on time? Will it contain the correct visa? For the correct time frame?

Stay tuned for the results.