Emma led me behind the red partition and into the galley. “Hey guys, this is Hilary. She’s a travel blogger from the States. She’s going to be the next Bear Grylls and she’s going to write all sorts of cool things about us.”

I gave a meek smile to the gaggle of flight attendants. We shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. God help me if there’s a test on their names, I thought.

“The next Bear Grylls, eh?” One of the guys asked in between bites of his dinner. “That’s pretty cool.”

I blushed at the thought. “That’s quite the compliment, thanks.” And while I certainly didn’t think myself deserving of the accolade, my mind took off and ran with the thought. Could I be the next great adventurer? What would my reality show be called? Who would want to watch that? Would I finally get to fulfill my lifelong dream and play harmonicas with Craig Ferguson on his Late Late Show?

So I finally had time to catch-up on writing my Qantas adventure over to Australia. Whoohoo!

Yes, I know I am obscenely late in posting this. I was kind of hoping the cuddly koalas would distract you from realizing I completely glossed over that section of my trip. But don’t worry; the post is extra witty so hopefully you will find that reason enough to forgive me. And if it’s not, remember all the kangaroo cuteness. Studies show that looking at fuzzy animals makes you happier. So if you’re still angry after you finish reading, just go back a post. Psychology says you’ll feel better. =)

**********

Holy. Crap.

I had never seen a vehicle so massive.

“Marvin, you don’t understand. These are my hopes, my dreams, my only future plans hanging in the balance here!” I made some indiscernible whining noise in the hopes of emphasizing my exasperation. “You know I’m good for it, and you know this isn’t my fault.” I looked at my clock and winced at the time. “Marvin, I’m tired, it’s five in the morning here and I don’t know what to doooooo.” I surprised myself with how I howled through the o’s. Clearly I was desperate. Coyote desperate.

The Aussie on the other line chuckled warmly and said in his sexy-but-slightly-indistinguishable-accent, “I understand Miss Billings, but until you manage to get your bank on board there’s not much that I can do for you except assure you that we will not cancel your booking at the moment.”

I rolled over on my bed, staring at the plaques and medals dangling on my wall. It had been awhile since I’d spent a night in my childhood room. I was reminded of the late night phone calls I’d had with my girlfriends in high school. And reminiscent of those days, I was once again up all hours of the night.