Roaring 20's
When I was in college I never did the whole study abroad thing because....I had a boyfriend (world's worst reason for not doing something awesome). Hindsight incredible mistake -- as it usually is to base a decision off of a guy. But that was the route I chose in undergrad. When I graduated and realized I'd gotten a degree in a field of which I no intention of working -- I pursued some short-term, random jobs that didn't really lead anywhere. In Spring of 2007, my roommate from college was coaching football in Ireland (actual American football, not soccer) and invited me to come visit. I was single, in between "careers" (drastic exaggeration to describe what I was doing at the time), and in the whole post-graduation "I'm searching for myself and my place in the world" phase -- so I thought, why not? I booked my one-way ticket (frowned upon by most customs officials) to Shannon Airport and left for an indefinite amount of time. I had no idea what I was getting myself into -- but it turned out to be the most life-changing and best decision I ever made (of either well-planned or completely spontaneous ones).
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| Coach Levy |
I'd traveled overseas before -- but never completely alone. It is really different going by yourself (in a good way). It's just really empowering navigating your own way through the airport, customs, etc. And considering nothing else about post-graduation made me feel like a grown-up, it was nice to have that sense of autonomy. I'm one of those weird people that LOVES the airport -- I love people watching, getting lost in the crowd, knowing I have a completely legit excuse to turn my cell phone off, the normalcy that comes with downing a beer in 15 minutes because my flight is boarding, and pretending I'm not American by putting on the best (aka worst to other ears) accent of my choice.
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| Gave the accent the best I had......my best wasn't good enough |
I boarded my flight, completely stoked, until I saw that I was in the window seat of the two-passenger section -- next to an incredibly large, disheveled man who took up his seat as well as a portion of mine.
I awkwardly squeezed by him to my seat as he refused to get completely up and out of the way. As the plane took off, the Russian man (as I discovered later) started to sing Frosty the Snowman -- very slurred, very pitchy, and very alcohol-induced. To make matters better (heavy sarcasm), he removed his shoes only to reveal bare feet, both of which suffered from neglect of toenail trimming for about a decade, and one of which suffered from serious clubbing. The remainder of the flight continued to play out in a similar fashion when I got food poisoning from my airplane-fresh chicken dish (shocker) and had to hurdle over the now passed out Drunk Russian Man in order to sprint to the bathroom and puke about five times. I thought, if this is foreshadowing for the trip to come, God help me. As all good things must come to an end, we finally landed in Ireland. I couldn't get off the plane fast enough -- but of course, as it would happen, I got stuck behind Drunk Russian Man who moved at the pace of a slug and I was the very last person off the plane.
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| Made fresh daily |
I walked as fast as I could to baggage claim, ready to be done with my airport experience. I spotted my bag on the carousel, pushed Russian Drunk Man out of my way, snatched my suitcase and headed for the exit -- when I heard a beeping noise. At first I didn't know what it was, but quickly realized it was coming from my bag. It started off beeping slowly, then faster, faster.....sounding like the countdown just before a bomb is sure to go off. As this is happening, two flight attendants started looking around anxiously. I heard one say, "Who is it? Where is it coming from?" I thought, oh my God -- CATCH PHRASE!!!! I had to pack the damn games, didn't I?! The flight attendants got more and more frantic as the beeping noise sped up and I made myself look even more guilty by trying to sprint out of there before I was spotted.
Apparently a girl running for the exit as she drags her bomb-like beeping suitcase frantically behind her tends to draw too much attention to herself from an airport security standpoint. The ginger flight attendant pointed directly at me, then yelled, "It's HER! It's in HER BAG!" (yet another strike for the ginger population). Other passengers started looking at me, some with fear and some with curiosity. Security was on me in 0.2 seconds and there was no escape. To keep from getting tazed on site or pinned up against the wall, I kept saying, "It's just a game, it's just a game." They pawed through my suitcase in full drug raid fashion, throwing my clothes out until the "bomb" was discovered.
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| TSA's worst nightmare |
The security guy pulled out Catch Phrase and it went off in his hand. I had so many inappropriately timed comments I was tempted to say: "Woops, you didn't pass it in time", "I guess the entertainment category wasn't your thing", or "Team America gets the point!"....but I assumed he wouldn't see the ironical humor in the situation. That assumption was confirmed when his response to my comment of "It's just a game" was, "Miss, it is NEVER just a game." (say in voice of Nicholas Cage during his worst acting moment -- just pick one; and insert slow, dramatic return of Catch Phrase game here). I took the game, half wanting to laugh at the situation but half wanting to cry from the relief that freedom was still mine.
As I walked out of the airport, I was convinced this abroad thing was going to be an absolute disaster from start to finish -- but what happened I've chosen to tell briefly through these next photos....I got to:
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| Make lifelong friends like this....looking at them now it's questionable if this is a "pro" of the trip |
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| Live with fun guys like this....717!! |
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| Embrace spontaneity/bad decisions like this....English Channel bridge jumping |
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| Dated a guy like this.....available in NYC ladies |
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