Hi there, welcome to the BLOG of my life as a Vagabiker. Beryl calls me a 'Free Spirit' my Grandpa a B.U.M. of no fixed address. Kelly says I'm 'off the wall'. I think that the Toad is closest saying I'm the Cat in the Hat it's fun to have fun—but you have to know how.

These are the stories of my unique, home-and-job-free Natness.

Naturally, quasi-legal events are fictional. Everything else is the unvarnished truth.

Paying the ‘Nat Tax’

expired passportThe whole ‘life unscripted/ unplanned/ non-uneventful’ thing sounds swell on paper, but truth be told, sometimes my ‘carelessness’ (as some close to me may call it)

As I was packing to leave California it was brought to my attention that my passport was expired. It is not a requirement that you have a valid passport for entering Canada, even by plane, so, as it was a Sunday evening, I wasn’t terribly worried. Carley suggested I call Air Canada and see if this would be a problem. They told me it would, but, without other options I was hoping that… maybe they won’t notice it.

So I pack up - throw everything, car, clothes, bikes, subi into Evil’s storage unit, lock the place, jump the fence, and catch the bus for a night sleeping in the airport.

Wake up, the lady runs my passport twice, and enters the information manually before telling me that she’s really sorry I will have to go to the Cdn consulate… here’s their address.

Rent a Car… find the consulate, find parking (this is a business day in LA, 20km took 1h). Pass security, leave a voice message explaining my problem, and wait. Fortunatly the lady is coming in earlier because of myself and 6 other Air Canada (the other airlines don’t have this rule for Canadians). The consular, who was super nice, sends me on a scavenger hunt of getting photo’s and money orders, and then I am back for more waiting. A special stamped letter arrives, and I rent out seats in the enterprise for the trip back to the airport. Convince AC to let me on a plane with out change fees… Arrive Toronto. After the rental car places close.

Sleep in Airport night #2. By ’sleep’ I mean lying in a hallway on benches. Up at 5. In the car, trying to find the highway.

Visit DK, who else at 7am?

Drive to meet Barrie Shelpley to confirm orginization/ structure of 2008. Catching up to a car fast. Woopsie, it’s a cop. Cue lights
Cop: Did you know this was a 40 zone?
Natters: Nope
Cop: do you see the flashing lights with ‘40′ below them back there?
Natters: Nope

don’t not sleep and drive, it’s expensive.

Filed under: really stupid things, time wasting, unplanned events by Nat @ January 17, 2008 | | Top   

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