The things of love and hate also boarder in my heart with those of luck and no luck. I have been told my many a palm reader, tarrot card reader, etc. that I am extremely lucky. In fact, I went as far as boasting about this luck on my body in the form of a tattoo. I admit, I fall ass backwards into a lot of good shit, and this is what I need to remember when I strike out.
It began with playful text between the BF and I on Wednesday. One idea lead to another and we planned to have him fly out for the weekend and go on a trip with me. I told him that ever star had to line up for this to happen...flights had to be open, I had to work a trip that had seats, one that would let him go to the hotel with us...yadda, yadda, yadda. The stars did line up and hopes jumped right in the que as well. He was booked on the red eye Thursday and would come spend the day with me Friday; he even willing to head to the Chinese Consult with me. Then we would go to Belfast together, since the flight was open up front, I knew the pursor, the city...all was perfect.
Well, you know those thunderstorms I like so much? Well they don't play a good role in stand by travel. Right as the BF was about to leave for the airport, I checked his flight status one more time out of paranoia and there it was...oversold flights. Piss!
I spent the day in NY running my errands thinking how much more fun it would be to stand in the hot sun wanting in line for my passport or picking up my watch from repair, if I had a partner.
The flight to Belfast was booked and we ended up going without a crew member putting me in my beloved galley and out of the aisle. The aisle that much to my distain showed proudly it's one open seat in first class.
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