What with travelling through Europe and having to deal with Parentals.
I love my parents and my uncle, but they get grating after two weeks. Small doses is fine, but (let's be honest here), they are old people (all over 60) in a foreign country and, before![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sjhw_tolerance shoots me, they behave like old people in a foreign country. Things like not reading signs, not stopping to work things out, making things more complicated (when the ticketing agent doesn't understand English, reduce "we want four tickets for Thursday to Firenze and back" to "quattro, Firenze, there and back", don't explain the background of why we need tickets for Thursday - they don't care), and my stepfather's attempts at Italian are atrocious and he doesn't make any attempt to sound out the cadence of the words.
Also, my stepfather changes gears like he's learning to drive and brakes like death is imminent if he doesn't hit the pedal hard and sharp right this instant. Which meant that, on Monday night, after a day in which we went scene-hunting for photos for my stepfather and uncle instead of going into a church museum with a lovely panorama (which my mother wanted and I would have preferred) and a crappy dinner (it was about as costly as the best dinner we had, dish-wise, but as bad as the stuff we had in Venice), I had to get my stepdad to stop the car so I could throw up in the ditch. (There may be pre-menstruality involved, too - I've been feeling ugh and nauseous the last few days, along with the urge to write porn.
Let's just say it's really awkward trying to write porn with your parents and your uncle around. (Okay, maybe it's not awkward for other people; it is for me!)
Speaking of food (not porn), I have eaten way too much food and put on at least 5kgs (~10lbs). I have muffin-topness happening with my loosest pair of jeans. As in, my loosest, loosest pair of jeans.
Anyway, yesterday was Firenze (Florence) and we walked from around 9:30am in the morning until 6:30pm at night with a brief break for lunch. By the end of it, my back was aching something horrendous.
Today is Lucca (which I only know from Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel's Legacy series, which is fantasy fiction), tomorrow is Firenze again (more walking), and Friday is Siena before the parentals drop me off at the airport for the flight home.
So damn tired.
At least this morning my stepfather is going in to the police to report his phone stolen (iPhone 5, good luck with that). He unfortunately doesn't have a routine for putting things in specific places, and possibly dropped his iPhone somewhere at Monday lunch.
But I go home on Friday - three flights (ugh) - to Zurich, to Singapore, to Sydney, arriving back in Sydney on Sunday 29th at 6am. Did I mention 'ugh'? Because, UGH.
But it will be so nice to get home and snuggle my cats. I've been missing my kitteh.
I love my parents and my uncle, but they get grating after two weeks. Small doses is fine, but (let's be honest here), they are old people (all over 60) in a foreign country and, before
sjhw_tolerance shoots me, they behave like old people in a foreign country. Things like not reading signs, not stopping to work things out, making things more complicated (when the ticketing agent doesn't understand English, reduce "we want four tickets for Thursday to Firenze and back" to "quattro, Firenze, there and back", don't explain the background of why we need tickets for Thursday - they don't care), and my stepfather's attempts at Italian are atrocious and he doesn't make any attempt to sound out the cadence of the words.Also, my stepfather changes gears like he's learning to drive and brakes like death is imminent if he doesn't hit the pedal hard and sharp right this instant. Which meant that, on Monday night, after a day in which we went scene-hunting for photos for my stepfather and uncle instead of going into a church museum with a lovely panorama (which my mother wanted and I would have preferred) and a crappy dinner (it was about as costly as the best dinner we had, dish-wise, but as bad as the stuff we had in Venice), I had to get my stepdad to stop the car so I could throw up in the ditch. (There may be pre-menstruality involved, too - I've been feeling ugh and nauseous the last few days, along with the urge to write porn.
Let's just say it's really awkward trying to write porn with your parents and your uncle around. (Okay, maybe it's not awkward for other people; it is for me!)
Speaking of food (not porn), I have eaten way too much food and put on at least 5kgs (~10lbs). I have muffin-topness happening with my loosest pair of jeans. As in, my loosest, loosest pair of jeans.
Anyway, yesterday was Firenze (Florence) and we walked from around 9:30am in the morning until 6:30pm at night with a brief break for lunch. By the end of it, my back was aching something horrendous.
Today is Lucca (which I only know from Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel's Legacy series, which is fantasy fiction), tomorrow is Firenze again (more walking), and Friday is Siena before the parentals drop me off at the airport for the flight home.
So damn tired.
At least this morning my stepfather is going in to the police to report his phone stolen (iPhone 5, good luck with that). He unfortunately doesn't have a routine for putting things in specific places, and possibly dropped his iPhone somewhere at Monday lunch.
But I go home on Friday - three flights (ugh) - to Zurich, to Singapore, to Sydney, arriving back in Sydney on Sunday 29th at 6am. Did I mention 'ugh'? Because, UGH.
But it will be so nice to get home and snuggle my cats. I've been missing my kitteh.
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Travel is broadening, enriching, and wonderful, but when it is time to go home it is TIME.
Wishing you quiet flights with slight, mousy neighbors, so you can sleep most of the way.