The whole problem with the world
is that fools and fanatics
are always so certain of themselves,
but wiser people so full of doubts.
- Bertrand Russell
Yeah, so anyway, I just discovered that instead of the much-touted Air China, I am in fact travelling with China Airlines - yep, the World's Most Dangerous Airline. Hmm, I wonder if they counted the planes involved in 9/11 (which, incidentally, is my arrival date back home) in the tallying that gave them that reputation? Anyway, too late now, I'll take my chances. I did, however, look up their website and it would seem that I can expect my meals to be something like this: " Freshly scrambled eggs and delicious side oders" Hmm again. Gotta love them delicious side oders.. also, I'm not allowed to take "Animals, planets and products thereof" into Taiwan. Oh noes! Whatever shall I do with that Jupiter I bought for Miki?
Apparently Freedom Air, who I'm flying to Australia with, make you pay $2 for a headset if you want to listen to the movies that they may or may not show - or you can provide your own if they'll let you on with them. The $2 ones, you get to keep. Yay quality, says Tats. I just hope they let me take a book, because 12 hours with one in-flight magazine in Chinese probably won't be all that entertaining. I've yet to master the art of sleeping on planes. Charades or Shadow Puppets might get mistaken for terrorist activity.. what to do to entertain oneself?
I got asked to make another pair of hot pants. This time, for a guy. Now, I've only ever made clothes for myself. I only have patterns that fit girls. And, being the experienced woman of the world that I am, I know that things that fit girls make boys talk in very high voices and walk funny. There has to be a ballroom downstairs, so to speak.
What to do, what to do? Well, I'm nothing if not intrepid. So, I borrowed a pair of undies off another male friend of mine (who shall remain nameless but is free to reveal himself should he feel so inclined when he discovers the horror that is What Tats Did With His Smalls). I also borrowed a pattern for men's tight pants. The problem with the pattern was it was designed for two-way stretch lycra, and my fabric is about as stretchy as suiting.
Then, using a combination of both patterns and my friend's delicates, I cut out some pieces and set to work. I pinned it all together, and called in to visit the recipient of said hotpants for a trial to see if I was within the ballpark *cough* - on the offchance he might be home. He wasn't. Not wanting to permanently stitch anything that might not fit, I had to adopt a slightly different approach.
So. I put on the borrowed undies (yes I can feel you cringing), and taking a pair of socks, I fashioned myself a 'package' of sorts. I used bobby socks rolled into a sausage, and a thick woolly one into two reasonably sized lumps. At this point I know most people will be headdesking, or laughing to avoid crying, or something. So anyway, I became a pseudo-man. And a very strange feeling it was. How do you lads walk without hurting yourselves? Honestly. Um, yeah. I then put on my pinned-together hotpants, and rearranged the pins until they fit reasonably well and (I hope) comfortably. I'm sure my pant-receiving friend is thankful that the pin-rearranging happened to socks rather than sensitive flesh. And if I were to be completely honest, I'd rather be standing there fiddling with a pair of socks shoved down a pair of borrowed boyshorts on my own body, than kneeling in front of someone else's husband with my hands in his pants and manoeuvring pins around his tender bits. You know?
I have discovered that darts are necessary for the correct fitting-not-gaping-or-dangling of hotpants on men (not the kind of darts they use in pubs, certain people wil be thankful to know). In fact, it was a fairly impressive journey of dicovery all round, really. I have learned Things about Stuff. *nods* The sort of things they don't teach you in anatomy, that's for sure.
So anyway, I expect photographs of these pants on their person once they're done, mmmmk? I perverted myself for them *assumes tragic pose* and my other friend's undies may never be the same again. Or at least, he may decide to have a sacrificial burning of them..
Today I will be phoning the airlines I'll be travelling with to try and find out what the deal is regarding wire and power packs and books and mp3 players and water. If they don't let me take my camelbak on the plane, they'd better be ready to fetch me water constantly throughout the 12 hours. Delicious oders or not.