I'm Back!

I flew over the centre of Australia at sun up. The earth was black as black, the horizon was blood red and the sky the palest shade of blue, just getting light. I thought, Ah the great southern land and promptly burst into tears.

I left Hanoi at 17.30, ½ an hour late, got into Ho chi Min at 18.30. My plane was supposed to leave at 22.00 and left @ 22.30, ½ an hour late. Got into Melbourne at 8.30. Customs was a night mare, as I said I had been near rural animals. Get in line B, please. Why I didn't lie, I have no idea? 

I didn't realise how cranky I was until I got to the immigration woman.

The immigration woman said, You haven’t given us the address you intend to stay at in Australia?

Christian's reply, I don’t intend to stay at any address, I’m going home. What kind of question is that?

The immigration woman. You have to give us an address!

Christian's reply. My home address is on the other side. (Very sour Xtian look was cast her way!)

The immigration woman. You haven’t answered the next question either?

Christian's reply. Do I intend to stay in Australia for the next twelve months? (incredulous look) I am coming home! (full sarcasm switched on) I am Australian.

The immigration woman no longer wanted to speak to me.

I decided to take myself in hand, after that. I decided to behave myself for Customs. They are Johnny Howard’s political trolls, after all. I wondered if they had the incident going over, recorded on the computer against my name. I had to give my passport number, after all.

I had half an hour to think about it, while I waited for my fucking bag.

There was a handsome islander boy who, I swear, had such a big lump in his pants, you couldn't help but look. He caught me straight off and smiled. Then he sat on the carousel with his parted legs pointing at me, trying not to look at me. Every time we caught each other peeking, his face broke into the most gorgeous smile. He had the best bulge in his pants, big balls, you could see them.

Line three please, said the customs man, once I'd got my bag. I quietly day dreamed about who ever came into my view, the beautiful, the ugly, semi-stasis. The jet-lag made me feel stoned. You wouldn't believe what I got them to do to each other. That kept me amused until the customs man said, You can go, an hour later. I shook my head and walked.

I waited in line for an hour, because I answered yes to one of their questions, on their silly little card – the farm animal one. If you say yes to any question, they make you wait in the longest line – because, of course, nearly everyone says yes - for an hour before you get to explain yourself. Then they x-rayed my bag and said I could go. Next time I’m just saying no to all their questions on their silly little white card. They were asking everyone if they had bamboo or cane or wood or food stuffs, at the other end of the hour. So if you don’t have any of those things, say no to all the questions on the customs card.

And then you will be sent to the fastest line.

The customs officers had rubber gloves on and took themselves very seriously. We waited in line until 10am, when they x-rayed my bag and said I could go. I was dark!!

Spent the day with LouLou, in the country. Where I left my car. 

Two joints. Welcome home baby!

When Eliza and the devastatingly good looking Sam (friend's of LouLou's) arrived I went to my mum’s for a cup of tea. As I drove down the Calder I suddenly realised how tired I was and had to get out of the car and run around a bit. Managed to cut off a Winnebago, of all things. Oops, I thought, as I watched is swerve, top-heavy back into the other lane... as I accelerated away. (Guilty face).

That DVD, onto which I copied my photos, is so filthy that my computer won’t read it. DO NOT WIPE THE PHOTOS, was my SOS to Mark and Luke. Cross your fingers. I Will ask Shane when he comes home, see what we can do with the DVD, I have. It’s covered in crap, it bombed my lap-top the first time ran it.

Bracks has resigned as Premier, well how about that? He said it is partly to do with what happened to his son and he is giving up politics to be a better father. Thwaites resigned four hours later. John Brumby is now the Premier. Now there's a thing.

The news is now reporting that they fear the Westgate Bridge could fall down, after what happened in America, due to excess capacity. They love a good story, huh?

Missy is purring on my foot.