I left for New Zealand on July 3, and arrived on the 5th. First off, the time difference is slightly strange. I lost an entire day in the flight over the Pacific. This means that I am currently 19 hours ahead of Pacific Standard Time. This makes for interesting iChat conversations, since people are always incredibly amused when they find out that I've torn an extra page off of my daily Far Side calendar.
My journey into the future has served me well on several occasions. I got the last Harry Potter book before everyone else at home, and was able to spoil the living hell out of it. Dumbledore died again on page 762. Who would have thunk it?
I have also been able to warn my friends against unwise action. Oh, if Darren is reading this, don't ask out the Red headed chick at work today. She's going to insist that she's not ready for an office romance and values your friendship too much to ruin it.
But I have also learned about the hazards of time travel. No, this isn't the paradox about crushing a butterfly in the past and changing history. Nor is it like when Marty McFly nearly made out with his own mother at a 1950s prom. Nor is it an ontological paradox like when Marty McFly inspired Chuck Berry with a song that Berry had already recorded (still can't get my head around that one).
In leaving on the 3rd and getting in on the 5th, I entirely missed Independence Day. No fireworks. No Twilight Zone marathon. No overwhelming feeling of patriotism akin to October, 2001. I couldn't celebrate with a fresh batch of America balls (First person to tell me the ingredients gets a Schrute Buck).
When my US-timed watch hit midnight on the fourth, I blasted Toby Keith on my iPod, cursed the Dixie Chicks and built a wall between the Mexican guy sitting next to me, but it wasn't the same*.
-MGD
That's what she said of the day:
(re: My well timed pop culture reference)
You really know when to whip it out.
*So this has brought us up to July 5th. I'll be trying my hardest to catch up to the present...another strange time travel situation.
My journey into the future has served me well on several occasions. I got the last Harry Potter book before everyone else at home, and was able to spoil the living hell out of it. Dumbledore died again on page 762. Who would have thunk it?
I have also been able to warn my friends against unwise action. Oh, if Darren is reading this, don't ask out the Red headed chick at work today. She's going to insist that she's not ready for an office romance and values your friendship too much to ruin it.
But I have also learned about the hazards of time travel. No, this isn't the paradox about crushing a butterfly in the past and changing history. Nor is it like when Marty McFly nearly made out with his own mother at a 1950s prom. Nor is it an ontological paradox like when Marty McFly inspired Chuck Berry with a song that Berry had already recorded (still can't get my head around that one).
In leaving on the 3rd and getting in on the 5th, I entirely missed Independence Day. No fireworks. No Twilight Zone marathon. No overwhelming feeling of patriotism akin to October, 2001. I couldn't celebrate with a fresh batch of America balls (First person to tell me the ingredients gets a Schrute Buck).
When my US-timed watch hit midnight on the fourth, I blasted Toby Keith on my iPod, cursed the Dixie Chicks and built a wall between the Mexican guy sitting next to me, but it wasn't the same*.
-MGD
That's what she said of the day:
(re: My well timed pop culture reference)
You really know when to whip it out.
*So this has brought us up to July 5th. I'll be trying my hardest to catch up to the present...another strange time travel situation.
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"My theory is, Skinner likes dog food."