America, fuck yeah!
A month after the fact I think it's about time I posted about my little trip to the US.
On Sunday the 5th of July I woke up at about 8am, realised I'd packed fuck all for all I'd been dumping things in my brother's room to take for about a week. To take my mind off things, instead of packing I went to watch my brother race at Ellenbrook Speedway, which is about half an hour away from my house. It's a dirt track where quite a few people go. My brother has a new Late Model that my father and his best mate spent about a year building. It was the first time he'd driven it, but he'd been driving cars since he was eight. Little known fact is that I, at one point, raced too. I threw in the towel after a decent crash and annoyance with misogyny amongst the assholes who took over five minutes to get to my car and ended up with my father getting into a fist fight on the track.
Anyway, it was fun times and though I was enjoying myself I realised at 5pm that I did have to fly out in a few hours and I still hand't packed much at all. I drove home, blasting Rammstein all the way, and packed for about three hours. I had no idea what to take other than things I wanted to give out and my laptop. 7pm found me at the airport, having Red Rooster in the terminal with my parents and a decent amount of Valium to calm my nerves.
Let me put this into perspective for you for a second.
In February I gave up on everything. Getting fired for a job I both hated and adored just pushed me over the edge and I attempted suicide. There were numerous things that were weighing me down, but it was that job that was doing my head in the most. Regardless of how I hated killing about 300 mice a day with my bare hands, only occasionally with gas, I still loved being around scientific minds who're considerably less normal than, lets say you're average breeder you'd meet in your supermarket and I've hated working with my entire life. I was unconscious in hospital for two days. Forced coma while I was put on a ventilator because my breathing was odd and my blood-sugar levels were going crazy. When I woke up in ER, only remembering passing out in the wheelchair in a completely different hospital emergency admission room. I have four IV lines in me and a heart monitor pas taped to my left index finger, a catheter, weird ass sticky shit all over me and more than anything I realised I'd even chicken out of suicide.
I was involuntarily admitted to the hospitals psych ward for two weeks. One day I'll tell some stories about the people I met and the stories I heard while I was in there, how different it is, and and friend and I's mind-over matter meditation for something other than sandwiches the day the hospital kitchen staff went on strike that resulted in some freakish results.
Point is, I'd gone from an absolute low and here I was, not even really back on my feet, but getting there, about to go to two other countries on my own. I'd barely had the confidence to put up with a shopping centre let alone another country and what was to be nine airports. That and, guys I love you, but I'd never met you in person and I'm still working to get rid of my crystal-balling and catastrophising thought behaviours. This was one of the main reasons, apart from limit funds, that I went to see only four of you this time.
This thought process continued every time I got on and off a plane, every time I went through customs or looked for my plane's gate. I took another valium, meditated my little heart out on the 26 hour flight (with a three hour stop over) from Australia to Dubai to New York. I'd come back to Dubai on the way home and spent two nights there. I'll get to that later. But, still, by the time I wast standing in the immigration line in New York, with possibly the most amusing single serving friend of the whole trip (I was making up stories as to whom I was to every single serving friend I met, changing my accent on shorter flights to amuse myself) behind me, I was shaking and worried about my bags, anxious to meet blueutopiah and netherminde who'd driving a long ass way to pick me up.
I'd also torn a hole in my pants on the first flight and just about reached over and slapped the bitch who made me crawl over her in the first place. I couldn't believe they let me into the country. I honestly couldn't. I mean, everything had gone just fine. Not a single major hitch. No screaming babies, no cramped planes, no one hitting on me or threatening me or arresting me.
Coming out of those doors and looking for those two lovely goths while my heart beat like crazy in my chest was surreal. Blue's hair stands out. I'd died my hair from purple back to black a few days before, so I knew she'd have a bit of trouble recognizing me. A bit of pointing and grinning later it was like a shojo scene with sparkles and all. Best hug ever. All those worries disappeared right about there. I entered a twilight zone of happiness, a zen state of yaoi AGSGDHJDF. The only thing that bothered me, having come from a desert country with arid weather, was coming to a humid as all fuck tropical area. I packed way to many warm clothes, though I knew Australia was just about hitting winter hardcore and US was coming into summer.
So, the first day after being asked for my ID for smokes the first time ever in another country no less, the biggest can of Red Bull and some amusing accents and present giving, later I eventually passed out. I dreamt I was on fire. Nice brain, I see you're leeching from The Couch and giving me dreams just a little bit more strange than usual.
Anyway, next day was hiking and tennis and free bagels and most importantly nytekit!
Hubba, hubba. This photo is going to go into a photo album and I'll keep it forever. Good teims, my loves, good times. We need to have sleepovers again.
The next day was full of anime and hiking. American milkshakes and a large cow. Also: Naruto.
Abandoned grave yard. Hur hur. Never seen so much green in my life. This was actually the day before but, meh. Pretty.
Then New York City.
Now, I'm from a small town. City. Whatever. Compared to New York, which is like...10 times the size of Perth or someshit in population I was kind of blown over and elated. The culture and scenery was exactly like in movies and games and being in the middle of it was kind of just...guh. Honestly, the end of the night was the most fun, however. Shopping and tattoos. Fun. <3
So much fun I forgot to take photos.
The others took these:
Sex Museum. Yummy. Some nice inspiration for Tricks in there.
Also: WHO'RE YOU CALLING SHORT, BITCH?
Tattoo says "Live Love Hate" which is something a friend and I came up with a month or so after I got out of hospital. I'm also going to get some crows on my neck for every trip I take. This is trip would, for instance, be two crows for America and Dubai.
On day five I said goodbye to blueutopiah, netherminde and nytekit , caught a plane to Detroit, got delayed for six hours and eventually landed in Dallas. Single serving friends weren't nearly as amusing. I probably wasn't either since I spent for most of the flights sleeping or snarling about delays. I really wanted to see my ladies, who were stuck waiting at the airport for me.
Honestly, in the nigh two weeks I spent with my ladies hcolleen and rehd_fawx things blurred together in a whole pile of awesome. A-Kon stood out, and the time I spent just doing menial things with them were the times I cherished the most, even while we did fun things like pottery, explored food, Austin and the trials of driving on the wrong side of the road too.
Here have some photos:
American pancakes, om nom nom. Fucking delicious.
Heh.
Dallas
YYH cosplayers at A-Kon.
Got myself some nice contacts.
Dubai on the way back was full of fail since I forgot my tablets and spent a whole three days not able to feel my tongue and being really faint.
When I got back I went to Supanova and lamented over Perth's shittiness.
Plans for the moment are for me to go over with a working visa some time next year, possibly near the end, so I can spent a bit more time there. I've always planned to move to America at some point, since Perth is the pits, and that'll probably be a six month or so trial. IDK. Like I said pure conjecture at the moment.
ANYWAY. I have a wonderful time. It took me about a month to get over the post trip depression, since my time overseas was just...well, you ladies, and netherminde, blew my mind. I love you all and thank you for your hospitality from the bottom of my heart. I feel like I'm doing so much better now.