The Lurch - Nuremberg Pt 2
There's always a lurch.
When the plane leaves the safety of the ground and begins to literally defy gravity as it lifts into the air, there is a lurch. I didn't always feel it bc I was too busy looking at my phone or listening to music, but the more I fly, the more I notice it. For a split second, it's like the plane fights back. This massive hunk of metal has absolutely no business gliding through the air like some sort of futuristic magic carpet, and in that moment, it lets you know. If you do take note of the lurch, the plane's resistance is often mirrored by the turning of your stomach as you wonder for a brief second whether the plane will decide it wants to leave the ground today. It's only a fraction of a moment, but it feels like an eternity. But it always takes off, and you fly to your destination chuckling at yourself internally for ever questioning it in the first place.
The thing is, life is full of lurches. It's unpredictable. And that's what makes it so incredible. If you knew you'd land the job or get the grade or meet your person, it would lose its appeal. You wouldn't want it so bad if you knew for sure it would happen, bc there would be no challenge or anticipation. So accept that there is and always will be a lurch. Let yourself be a little worried. But don't let it overtake you, bc the plane will take off, and that scared feeling in the pit of your stomach will go away as you climb higher into the sky off on a new adventure.
My last few weeks in Germany were wonderful to say the least. Sassy's Finnish friends came to stay with us the weekend after our long weekend in Manchester, and all I can say is this:
In the event that you find yourself hanging out with people from Finland:
All in all, we had a wonderful weekend making fun of each others' languages (namely Finnish bc it doesn't actually sounds like words but rather a collection of guttural sounds reminiscent of some sort of neolithic mating call), showing the boys around the city - if you ever need a tour guide, Sassy's your girl considering she can answer about 1 out of every 10 questions you ask - and teaching the boys what Rage Cage is all about (don't ask if you don't want to know). We refused to let our Sunday hangovers get the best of us and we cooked the boys a traditional Bavarian breakfast (white sausage with mustard accompanied by white beer and pretzels) before their flight back home, and subsequently spent the rest of the day in bed with our BFF, Netflix.
It was around that weekend that I began to realize how severely I had screwed myself in regards to Masters applications. See, I do this thing where I procrastinate.. like, aggressively. So I spent my week prepping for packing and trying to find the motivation to write a CV and cover letter so that I had a preexisting format for my future applications. Thursday was my (ew) 23rd birthday and was like any other day until the roommates (and our friend Jan) came home bearing gluten-free cupcakes with a birthday candle and board games for our enjoyment. We spent the rest of the night collaborating to win a game that was literally called "The Game" before impressing each other with how politically incorrect we could be during a heated game of Cards Against Humanity. It was the perfect end to my birthday and more than I ever expected what with being so far from home.
This past weekend was my last one in Germany for awhile (but not too long if I have anything to say about it). Jakob and Raphael were home for the weekend, so Sassy and I had the apartment to ourselves. Friday was a chill night, which made for a hangover-less Saturday morning - something relatively uncommon for us - so we wandered the city with coffee in hand and got some shopping done while we chatted in our strange way (she speaks English and I speak German and we confuse the hell out of everyone, it's the best). We decided to celebrate our last Saturday together dressed to the nines in some dresses we found in the back of Sassy's closet. It was a wonderful night until we actually got to the club and the men were way too persistent for our taste. We headed home to make some food before she headed to bed and I called my mama for awhile to catch up, bc 5am after several drinks is obviously prime mama-talking time. Sunday was spent - after some solid sleeping in - more or less entirely on the translation of my CV and Motivation Letter for Masters applications. We had a tough time of it purely bc a lot of the academic terms we use in America don't even kind of translate to German and it took us forever and a day to find acceptable substitutes that conveyed the right message. This was a not-so-subtle reminder to me about how much I hate and will never have a job that has to do with translation. Literal translations don't work, people. You have to consider cultural context, anecdotes, phrasing, and about a billion other things. After our brains were sufficiently fried and Sassy told me if I thanked her one more time for her help that she would kill me, we found our way back into the comfort of her lovely bed and went the hell to sleep.
This week was a blur considering I only had two full days in Germany, but my last night was special bc we had friends over for an evening of raclette (a fancy cheese that tastes about 100x better than it smells, thank goodness). It was a night of laughter and pure enjoyment, which was exactly what I needed to distract me from the looming shadow over my life that is Masters applications. We made our way to bed around 12.30am, which was perfect timing for a nap bc I had to be up at 4.45 to get ready to roll out. In all honesty, I wouldn't have wanted to say bye to Sassy any other way than a quick hug and kiss before she rolled over and went back to sleep. We've said goodbye dozens of times at this point and the only way to make it suck less is to make it quick. Like ripping off a band-aid, except we keep putting band-aids back on to rip them off. One day I'll see her on a regular basis, I swear. But until then, I'll cherish every moment we do get together, even if she spends most of her time calling me an idiot - bc I mean, she's not wrong.
This morning didn't exactly go according to plan bc my metro/train tickets app wouldn't work so I rode without a ticket (I wasn't too worried bc it was only two stops but still it's a dangerous game). I sat outside at the bus station for a solid half hour bc last time I took a bus from this stop I missed it (this was when Chrissy and I visited Saskia in August of 2016 and wanted to head to Zurich but missed our bus entirely and had to rebook). Little did I know, my bus had arrived early and did not even kind of look like the company's usual color scheme, so I paid little attention to it. It wasn't until I read on the side of the bus (at the same moment it was supposed to leave) that it was a part of Flixbus' franchise that I realized my mistake. I literally ran to the front and waved in absolute panic at the bus driver who had just lifted his foot off the break. Honestly I probably would have let myself get run over before I missed this damn bus, so thankfully he gave me a sympathetic smile and opened the doors as I asked in particularly rapid and concerned German whether this was the bus to the airport. It was. And my dumba** almost missed it. I WAS THERE HALF AN HOUR EARLY. And I STILL almost missed it. I have been traveling the world for seven years and this kind of thing still happens. Will I ever get it completely right? Probably not. But in the meantime, I'm more than happy to practice.
As my bus got me to the airport at 8.30am and my flight wasn't till 1.05 (and subsequently delayed until 1.55), I had plenty of time to complete and submit my first Masters application. This is a feat I can credit almost entirely to Sassy, bc she had to convert files and send mail and do damn near most of the application bc I'm too unintelligent to use forethought and Microsoft Word refuses to work on my computer. Essentially, if I get into this program, I have her to thank for it. Don't worry though, she won't likely let me forget it. That's okay though bc there will never come a day I'm not grateful for her - just don't tell her that or she'll get a big head... er... bigger head.
But for now, my plane is descending into Moscow and I'm crossing my fingers that I make my flight to Hanoi - my 2h layover was cut in half due to this delay and I'm remotely concerned about whether or not I'll be able to make this happen, but I'm sure you'll hear about that in my next post if things don't go according to plan. After all, while it may not be even remotely funny at the time, it always makes for a good story when things don't quite go according to plan, right?
For now, I couldn't be more excited to see what Southeast Asia has in store - even though the first 8h of it will be me waiting for Kyle's flight to land at the airport... whatever.
So until next time, boys and girls!
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About the Author
Mouth like a sailor, great lacker of empathy, paper cut survivor, avid arguer, harsh critic of people who put clothes on their pets, easily distracte
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