After the years of dragging the same suitcase across the world, I have rather a decent guess of its weight. Since the limit for luggage was 22 kilos and I guessed rather right that it would be 27-28ish, I was ready to cough up for the overweight; the luggage lady at the counter only attached a screaming orange tag that said Heavy, said That's it and wished me a pleasant journey.
I need to add that the remaining eight kilos of crap was in my messenger bag and in a plastic bag full of books.
On the other hand, when I was leaving Stockholm last time, apart from rather a heavy suitcase (them books), I had one piece of cabin luggage (full of books), one piece of ladies' purse (full of laptop and books) and a reasonable amount of reading matter for the time of flight (large canvas shopping bag full of books)... all in accordance with the airline regulations. The anti-terrorist measures require that I show my laptop and admittedly, the security folks were a little bit baffled when they saw that it was somewhere under a Finnish etymologic dictionary and Linné's collected writings. The look of sheer crazy was topped by my dad's wish to get a plush reindeer, which I bought on the airport.
So, nothing like that this time. I hung around the airport shops, sniffed a few fragrances, mostly said Oh, boring, then knitted for a while, attempted for some real airport blogging like Yarn Harlot, but the wireless LAN worked weird and when I managed to connect, it appeared that it was paid access... and nope, folks. My virtues are not many but supporting this capitalist blackmail is out of the question. Moreover, I had drained my weekly card limit long before.
Seen everything, been everywhere twice, has keys to all the doors
This is a way I and my friends use to describe the unpleasant sort of know-alls. It came to my mind after the security
Life however has its little ways how to deal with one's pride. In Vienna, they chased us out of the plane. I sat rather in the back, I like being behind the wind so that I can see something. I did notice a bunch of people even behind me but, well, no need to hurry, nor did I try to fight my way out of the plane, so I minded my own stuff. Then, the contents of the plane waited in the airport bus, nothing happening, when police got out of the plane with a handcuffed guy. I thought that such stuff happened only in the movies, that criminals were sent by mail.
Easy life of a spoiled capitalist brat
My father came to pick me. I was lazy to go by train and it's only two hours driving, eh. I only called him to pick me at the arrivals terminal when my ancient cellphone went dead so I was standing there, watching for a baby blue BMW. Good colour, easy to spot among those black and dark grey cars.
In the car, dad stuck a folder full of papers in my hands and said Read it. I browsed it, it seemed to be all written in legalese so I said Erm, legal papers, so what? and dad grinned and said I bought you a gym.
The background stories are two. First, dad had a 'readymade' Ltd. in the drawer, the company doing nothing, just being there for a case of urgent need when there would be no time to get all the paperwork for starting one done in time. Second, he rented some space to a gym owner, who, surprisingly enough, ran a gym, with all those machines and courses of various weirdo things like aerobics. The owner repeatedly failed to pay the bills so after a few friendly talks, the final unfriendly talk came and my dad just bought the whole gym, owner not included, since it would be illegal (but practical).
It is my father so I need to deal with this type of crazy pretty often.
How do I build a vault cheaply?
Another current problem that haunts my father. For some reasons I was asked the question. I know a few things about vaults, one being that 'vault' and 'cheap' are mutually exclusive terms. I won't go in the lengths and depths of the story, just mind that buying old and neglected buildings brings unexpected problems.
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