Friday, April 16, 2010

I am the most depressed man in New York

I have been planning for and looking forward to this trip for three months. No detail's been too insignificant. Still remember annoying the shit out of my friends from back home about which outfit to wear, plans for day activities and how (where) we'd see all the football games (rustic British pubs). I've just been beyond excited. New and different goosebumps discoveries every day.

Don't miss Stockholm that much but am dying to see my friends. This was the perfect opportunity. Molly & Thomas epic 30-year old party in London that everyone was going to. No must-do's (like going home means) just enjoy being guest and spend time with the people you love the most. All while having the best time of your entire life. Funny (not really) how I was texting Erik on my way up Broadway to meet Ludde and Philip for beers yesterday and just contemplated on that exact fact; wonderful night in New York with good friends - but that all I could think of was that I was soon so soon in London with them.

Then fucking Eyjafjallajökull woke up. Big time. Then I. With a clustered inbox. Nothing made sense. Volcano. Ash. Planes. Airport. Fucked. Iceland. WTF!?! First I couldn't even grasp it. Whatthefuckisgoingon. And why. Then I slowly started to understand that the trip would probably be canceled and mentally started preparing for not going (this is the worse part). But I still brought my damn bag to the office - optimism travels with me. Called the airline, who - this is true - two hours before I had to leave the office gave me green light. "Your flight is scheduled to depart. You're good to go, Mr. Beckett." Well thank you very god damn much, I remember thinking before I was absolutely crazily amped up again. Motherfuckingyeshurrah! Started texting, chatting and typing emails quicker than a shagging rabbit - and again true story - seriously thought I was going. I am now mentally already traveling, touched ground and sitting in a shady pub anywhere in London with my friends drinking pints of beer. Just a minor physical transportation was now required.

Five minutes before I should've left the office I called them again - just to verify - not to ask - that all was going OK and that my flight was still departing as miraculously planned.

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