'She would have to be!' [addled, yet, in unison]

This often happens when I am home, but the need to update seems more urgent when I am back in Newfoundland.

Yup, you read that right. I am back on the island that holds my heart and perches on one or more of my DNA strands.

It is strange coming home. I don't know why that surprises me so, as it seems to happen everytime I get here. The trip is always marked by four distinct themes. And I feel the need to share.

1) Waiting at the airport gate to board the plane, I am always amazed by the number of moustachioed gentlemen that fly to this rock. I know, culturally, the moustache never went out of style in Newfoundland, but it is a little frightening. I counted 23 men waiting for the plane that were sporting upper lip hair, and only upper lip hair. No goatees, full beards, van dykes or any of that fancy crap. If you have the good fortune of visiting this wondrous place, please, try and beat my 23. I dare you. At the least you will be less bored.

2) Flying to Newfoundland on a discount carrier (the only way to go, I might add) you will always be faced with having some sort of sex trade worker on your plane. This is a non-negotiable. There will be some sort of peeler, prosie or some such waiting for the plane. This time I had two strippers who were travelling together. Blonde as the sky is blue and tanned like you could buy it 5 gallon jugs, one of them was wearing an old school hip-hop knuckle ring. Fun, fun, fun.

3) Half the plane will clap when you land, while the other half will complain that that landing was nothing to clap about.

4) As a returning newf, the departure lounge is a uncomfortable place. Standing, waiting for the boarding, you have to eye every other passenger, but like a ninja. You see, every person there is checking you out and you have to check them out, but nonchalantly. Every person could be someone you know, but they could also be someone you don't want to talk to. That is the risk of the departure lounge. Ironically, i caught the eye of a woman I went to high school with. We had been friendly enough back then and early on in university, but it was obvious that she didn't want to see me and I probably conveyed the same message. It was quite a shock when we were seated together. Until she asked her travelling companion to seat between us. Small talk was made, but then for the rest of the flight ignorance was bliss.