Only a few days after arriving back to Gijon from my German adventure, I was off to the states. Better put, I attempted to get back to the states. The whopping 4 inch "snow storm" in England left all their airports closed for round about a week. (England has one of the biggest and most important international airports in Europe.) France also closed their airports for a couple of days, along with Belgium and who knows who else, all for a few sprinkles of snow. And so the airline industry all over Europe was totally fucked for the holidays. The consequence for me, being a standby passenger, was that other airlines, affiliated or not affiliated with Delta, were sending all their passengers to fly through Madrid on any airline back to the states (instead of through London, Paris, etc. etc.) because it hadn't snowed here.
My fellow standby travelers
During these airport crisis, standby usually end up chatting. "How many days have you been trying to fly?"... "Who do you know that works for Delta?" ... "What's your standby priority?"... Anyway, I met two super nice girls, one from Minneapolis (cause my world is always small) and one from Atlanta. We spent our waiting time getting to know each other. We bought some cheap wine at the duty free store, ate lunch, and enjoyed our nerve-wrecking time together. In the end I got pretty lucky, we all did, and we only had to try for two days. On my second day at the airport I got on with style in business class and accompanied by my two new friends Amanda and Til. Together we enjoyed some cocktails, take-off and landing, and then lost each other between connections. Freezing rain and snow in Minneapolis luckily delayed, but didn't cancel, my flight home. When I arrived I was picked up by my brother, who was just finishing his shift at his new job with Delta. So, home for the holidays. You could say I got lucky. There were paying passengers all over Europe who got stranded on vacation and missed Christmas. =/
A combo of my two homes:
Pouring Asturian sidra in snowy Minnesota
And then I was home for my first "vacation" home. It was quite a strange experience, just stopping by home to say hello, to visit for a couple of weeks... no work, no worries... just time to enjoy my friends and family. I ate, ate, ate. Drank a bit, of course. And ate. Went sledding. Made "ooh" and "aah" sounds at the three feet of snow covering my house. Tried to explain to extended family members that I still have no idea which continent I want to live on, let alone what I want to do with my life. I made "ooh" and "aah" sounds at my friends who have at least figured out something in their lives, like their life partners or their jobs. I had deep conversations in English, my native tongue, which is always fun. And then, before I knew it, it was time to go.
Yes, the ball.
New Years Eve brought me to New York City where I did pretty much what I would have done in any other city on NYE, except without knowing anyone except my dear Rachel. Drink. Eat. House party. Another house party. ("Ahh how do we make this the best NYE ever?!... OMG I just can't decide what we should do!!...Where should we go?? This has to be fab!!") In the end, NYE is always a night like all others but with higher expectations and champagne. But, I did get rites to say I was in NYC for NYE which always gets some good reactions out of people. Oh, and I got to call my mother after midnight because I (to my surprise) wasn't drunk, just to have her ask me, "Did you kiss Rachel?" which my answer was, "Yes, mom, you know us so well!" (AKA she knows neither of us is ever dating anyone, but by default, each other... and that after 13 years of friendship germs are no longer a worry.)
This dog was the best thing I managed to take a picture of on New Years Eve....
Anyway the following days were more exciting. Rachel works in the "music biz" in NYC and so one day we went into a recording studio where one of her friends (name drop here:) Eric Arc Elliott was recording some tunes. Some beats. Some rhymes. And as Rachel and I were (drinking and) talking about "rad hip hop music" in our good old Fargo-style Minnesota accents, Mr. Eric said, "Go in there and record that!" So, we chit chatted in Minnesotan over some rockin' beats and vualaaaa! I was in a song. And I would show you but it's kinda embarrassing so you'll have to come to Spain to hear it. Hah.
Representin' the small cherry in the big apple!
(Get it... Minneapolis in NYC?)
As usual I got lazy and didn't do much sight seeing, because my thought is that I will be there again soon... I did eat a lot. And drink a lot of delicious IPA beers that are impossible to find in this beer-deprived country called Spain. I did go to the Museum of Natural History where I saw an overload of things, so many things that I have no idea what I saw. The only thing I remember was learning about this rockin' fish that changes its sex organs depending on what its society needs from it....! So cool, modern, useful:
In my book, the most interesting fish in the sea.
And then I arrived in Madrid on Reyes (liiiike, "3 wise men day"). And spent a few days out eating and drinking with my cousin Tomas. It seems that now I have traveled so much that the only thing I can stand doing is eating and drinking. Hm. Surprise? Oh, and sometimes shopping. I'm not much of a shopper, but I was on Madrid's biggest shopping street on the biggest shopping day of the year. Love H&M.
Reyes. With mi primo Tomas and his pals
And here I am, back "home." And, of course, sick again. Conclusions: Europe needs a snow plow. Going home on vacation is kinda strange. NYE will always be overrated. Rachel is my BFF. Yes, I said it, best friends forever!!!
Hasta luego, guap@s!
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