I'm pretty jacked. Usually the word is used by a jock wearing a SnapBack, or a lacrosse player, or the type of person who yells loudly at a bar when their team scores a winning goal. I used to be up with the lingo, but I've since fallen away from a dedicated following of sports, and am now the one that yells, "YEAH, SPORTS" when others cheer. Now back to my original point. Jacked. A term of prolific excitement. I'm jacked to go back to Amsterdam.
Some of my most fond memories, as well as nightmares began there. Spending the day on an elaborate date with a breathtaking girl from Milan, as we traversed the canals and kissed on a ferry: Fond Memory. Having nearly $5000 of camera equipment stolen, as well as purchasing my first and only pack of cigarettes (I still have it, and one remains.): nightmare. So many emotions are wrapped up in one city, so many friends I had to leave that felt as if I had known them for years. These are the joys of traveling alone. You are forced to create new experiences, and you're drawn so far out of your comfort zone that it terrifies even the most extroverted of travelers.
Im on my flight to Minneapolis from Fargo. There's about 25 of us evenly spread throughout a 50 seater Delta CRJ-200. The flight attendant both poorly imitated a British accent, and occasionally sung the words to his air safety spiel. I like writing in the air. It's something about the combination of sleep deprevstion and looking out the window that brings better adjectives to mind.
I'll soon be boarding the A330 for what my Delta App says will be a 10hr20min flight. I'm stocked with a bottle of sleeping pills, a few granola bars, and some mandarin oranges...courtesy of the Delra IROP cart, with the exception of the pills. This is the third flight I've tried boarding today, and apparently it is a 'charm'. The other two filled up with passengers who actually pay for flights, so they certainly are prioritized. I woke up this morning whole-heartedly planning on going to Santiago, Chile. But not getting out of Fargo early meant not making it to MSP, and then Atlanta.
I really don't care where I end up. I have 4 days off, and even my outgoing self needs a break from Fargo occasionally, as much as I adore the city. To twist up this adventure from the last, I hope to take a train a couple hours South to a city on the coast of Belgium. I saw gorgeous pictures on the interwebs, and I really hope I can find two trees in a park to lounge in my new hammock. Literally, that's a main goal of this trip. If I can lay in my hammock and read, it will have been successful for me.
Also, if you like blogs like this, please, please tell me so. It's a creative outlet for me whether you enjoy it or not, but I would write more if anyone cares for my musings.