Jetlag is the new heroin*

* I lifted that line directly from Andy. Deal with it.

I'm back! I know, I know. It's been too long. The trip to Orange County was awesome. The trip to Sydney was legendary.

I’m only gonna talk briefly about the trip for now, because I don’t want to spoil anything in the slideshows. But I felt like one thing deserved its own post: the flight.

Yes, everybody knows the flight to Australia is unimaginably long -- fourteen and a half hours from Los Angeles to Sydney and twelve and a half hours from Sydney to Los Angeles. I don’t know about you, but I get antsy after four hours in an airplane. So fourteen and a half was bound to be a challenge.

However. I think I prepared myself pretty well for the flight out there. I was scheduled to leave at 11:45 pm, which meant I could spend the day wearing myself out. Which, in turn, would mean (hopefully) that I could sleep during the flight. Anyway, I woke up Wednesday morning (the 18th) at around 8:00 am. I was still in Orange County at the resort (see video below for awesome details). I rented a car and made my way up the coast. The plan was this: drive to Malibu to have lunch with my friend Barry. Return to his apartment in LA to do some laundry, see some sights, take a shower, go to the airport, fly to Sydney.

First off, Barry might have the coolest job on the planet. The guy designs toys for a living. In Malibu. His office has a view of the ocean on one side and mountains on the other. The sun was shining. The birds were singing. There were toys everywhere. It was incredible. We had lunch at a park near his office (and spotted Rob Lowe at the table next to us), then had a little afternoon coffee. I went back to his apartment and started my laundry. Then I decided to just “drive around” the neighborhood to see what I could find. Probably not the best idea, since I got lost and was lucky to find my way back to his place. Anyway, he got home and we hung out for a bit. I showered and before I knew it, it was time to return the rental car and head to the airport. So, sadly, my trip to LA included little more than one b-list celebrity sighting and a slightly obstructed view of the Hollywood sign.

There are plenty of details I could add here (LAX is a godforsaken dump, California is a dreamworld, the beach is awesome), but let’s get right to it. The flight. Earlier in the day, I had begun telling my brain it was actually seven hours earlier. So anytime I would check my watch, I would say, “oh, it’s 5:00 in the afternoon. No it isn’t. It’s 10:00 in the morning. It’s 10:00 in the morning. It’s 10:00 in the morning.” I had booked a window seat for myself, but worried that maybe I should have gotten an aisle seat. I get up more than most people and feel bad about squeezing in and out. No matter. I got on the plane and sat down. Each seat had a pillow and blanket, as well as a little travel kit with a toothbrush, some socks and an eye mask. The plane boarded surprisingly fast, and before I knew it, the doors were closed. And before I knew it, we were backing out. And before I knew it…waitaminute. I looked to my right. And a very, very wide smile crept across my face. I had the entire row to myself. Let me say that again. I had the entire row. To myself. Now then. There aren’t bolds bold enough or italics italicky enough to fully express just how fucking awesome that is. I get giddy when I have my own row on a 45-minute Southwest flight from Houston to Dallas. This, however, was a fourteen hour flight. I think I’ve made my point.

Anyway, they fed us about an hour into the flight. I was pretty tired from my day (it was well after midnight at this point), so I flipped through a couple channels, listened to some music, then decided to just call it a night. I popped a Xanax, made a little nest out of my three pillows and three blankets and went to sleep. And slept surprisingly well. I mean, having your own row helps with that.

When I woke up, the cabin was still dark. But I was awake (and well-rested!). I hesitated to check my watch, but did anyway. 4:00 am. Sydney time. Score! I’d somehow managed to be asleep or half-asleep for almost eight hours of this flight. An hour later, they served us breakfast. A couple hours after that, we landed. And the fun in Australia began. I won’t say I was completely okay that first day, because I did get a little foggy in the late afternoon. But overall, I think I handled the trip out there very well.

I’m gonna leave this part blank, because I’d feel ridiculous transitioning from the flight to Australia directly into the flight back from Australia. So…a moment of reflection for the week in Sydney…

Now then. The trip back was a different story. We’d been talking all week about the fabled A380, the biggest plane in the Qantas fleet. I was a little puzzled as to why it was such a big deal, because I figured the plane I rode over on was big enough. Well, lucky me, I was flying on an A380 back to LA. This….is the A380.


Nevermind the biggest airplane I’d ever ridden on…this was this biggest goddamned vehicle I’d ever seen. It was huge!! That picture doesn’t even do it justice!

My favorite part was the “sky cam.” They installed a camera in the very top of the tail, so you could flip to the “sky cam” channel on your TV and look down on the plane at any time during the flight. This was especially thrilling during takeoff (though it did freak me out a bit) and also gave a surreal “Dr. Strangelove”ish feel to the landing. Like we were riding a bomb into the ground.

I did get an aisle seat this time. The far right seat in the middle row. There was a huge Hawaiian to my left (who, not so subtly, annexed pieces of my seat as the flight wore on) and a very shrieky kid on my right. I’ve never heard a little kid cry so much. I almost stuffed him into an overhead compartment.

Anyway, my Friday (the 27th) looked like this:
8:00 am – woke up in Sydney.
10:00 am – had breakfast with Andy at a café by Bondi Beach.
11:00 am – off to the airport.
2:00 pm – boarded the behemoth of an airplane.
2:15(ish) pm – took off.
10:00 am – landed in LA.
1:00 pm (seriously? Three hours?) – sat at my Southwest gate awaiting the flight home.
3:00 pm – Spotted Bridget from Girls Next Door. Good LORD that girl does not look okay without makeup.
3:30 pm – the flight home…
8:00 pm – …but first a stop in San Antonio (groan).
9:30 pm – home!

With all the time changes, adding hours, losing hours….I was awake for something like 32+ hours, spending the bulk of those in either airports or airplanes.

Naturally, I crashed when I got home. I slept like a rock. Didn't budge.

I thought my 11:30 Friday night to 12:30 Saturday afternoon marathon would bring me up to speed. In fact, I was so confident that I was back to normal, that I spent the afternoon at West Alabama Ice House. Mistake #1. Then I went to dinner and had a margarita. Mistake #2. Then I went to a karaoke bar with a bunch of 23 year olds and drank twelve sake bombs! Mistake #3. By the time the night was over, I was blackout drunk. I fell asleep in my friend Emily’s bed, and that’s where it gets weird.

So, I woke up in the middle of the night. I was still drunk, but more than that, something was off. The jetlag (sleep deprivation, altitude, whatever) had shaken up the jelly jar that is my head and the chemicals were all sloshed around. I looked around. I was confused. Where the hell am I? Who the hell is this?! I stared intently and tried like hell to remember how I’d gotten there or what I’d done up to that point. Nothing. I couldn’t remember anything. And then (this is where it gets strange) I was convinced I’d been kidnapped and taken aboard a spaceship. Yes. These were the thoughts that actually ran through my fatigued and poisoned brain. Then finally, finally I saw something I recognized in her room and snapped back to reality. And then I laughed. And laughed. And kinda got scared. A note to anyone flying for 30 hours in a row – do NOT drink twelve sake bombs the day after you get back. I’m sure your doctor will tell you the same thing.

And now…

Part one…